Just got back from seeing I Chinatown at a local film group screening. It was still amazingly brilliant, but the best part was my friends' 15-year-old, who was seeing it for the first time (and quite unwillingly, i have to say), who was blown away by it.

Totally want a gold star for NOT dumping my rotten curbside compost on top of the two hideous trucks who decided to park directly in front of my house when there were three open spaces in front of their house half a block away, on the other side of the street. Forcing me to park 4 houses away from my own, on the other side of the street, in front of a really cranky neighbor who will likely park me in tomorrow out of spite. I hate these new folks on the block, they have like seven vehicles in the one house (can't be more than 900 sq ft) and apparently are all stoners judging from the reek from the front porch butt bin. I was soooooo tempted to just, ya know, dribble a wee little rotten egg yolk inside the open truck beds. Apparently a week at work has made me hate humanity just a little today. I took notes today and in 9 hours of actual work I received 136 calls, set up 57 police calls, 4 fires, 7 medical calls, and more than one institutionalized mentally unstable person. And that was on a slow sunday. I'm really not looking forward to the summer.

Grrrrrrrrrah. I hate everything today. Haaaaaaaaaaaaate. Pain in my pelvic area, OB/GYN closed. (I'm hoping they open at 9 and their recording ["Hello. We are closed today. Please leave a message."] is just leftover from the weekend. I mean, what doctor isn't open on Monday? Everyone has problems on Monday morning, right?)

Work is ridiculous and stupid and people keep giving me vague answers that don't actually work. (What's the cutoff $ amount that we're willing to pay to change an aesthetic issue on a page at blueline stage? Boss: Well, not too much. Me: I actually need a dollar amount so I can give [printer] an answer. Boss: Well, not hundreds. Me: CAN YOU GIVE ME *A* NUMBER? 30? 50? 100? Boss: Well, not too much.)

Today needs to fuck right off.

And I'm having lunch with my dad, and if he continues his Dadzilla wedding crap I am going to lose my fucking mind. Which is not what I want to do. I want to be gracious but maintain my boundaries, but I am so fucking tired of him bringing up the same issues every time we talk about it.

Well, problem 1 takes care of problem 3: The OB/GYN can see me at 11:35, which means I can't have lunch with Dad.

Woo.

Teppy, sorry about the crappy day. I hope your doctor has an answer for you.

When I called Dad to cancel, he asked if I was pregnant (not for cancelling, but for going to the ladyparts doctor). I declined to explain how an IUD works, but assured him that would be impossible.

I gotta write down every single symptom, so I have the best chance of getting this figured out.

I hope you get it figured out between you and the doctor, Steph. And general day get betterness.

Rain and traffic. Is it just that people are being more cautious? My eight minut drive took almost thirty this morning. I should know to just leave earlier when it's raining, but it's like that knowledge about rain=slower goes right out of my brain until I turn onto the road where it is ALWAYS backed up in the rain. Maybe from years of taking subways.

Tep, in lieu of being able to do any damn thing about your ladyparts miseries, I offer possible, slight help with the Dadzilla problem. My dad showed strong 'zilla tendencies, and it helped a lot to pick some aspect of the wedding about which I gave not one tiny crap and tell him it was actually really important to me but I knew nothing about it, trusted him utterly and handed it over to him with my promise not to interfere at all. So then he had a project to fuss over all on his own without pestering me.

It may be tougher to find a project you can peel off for him when you're dealing with a smaller wedding, but there's got to be something. Drawing up maps and directions from every direction, with traffic and weather predictions, might keep him good and busy for a couple of weeks.

He did this with my brother's wedding too -- he kept telling me that he was "left out" and "not a part of the wedding," until I finally told my brother about it (because of course he wouldn't tell my brother). And then my brother asked Dad to give the first toast at the reception, and Dad had a project to noodle on.

I think he probably feels left out again, but he's not. I just need to give him his project. I should probably ask him to give a toast, so he can work on it.

(We asked Tim's dad last night to say grace before the meal -- most of my family is Catholic, so it won't strike them as odd -- and he said, "Oh, this isn't just an ordinary Tuesday-night frozen dinner grace. I'd better think about what to say!" So he has a job now. He's also doing a reading, and wants to do a Scripture reading, which is fine by us, so we asked him to give us suggestions. So really he has 2 jobs. Hopefully they are Jesus-y enough that he'll be okay with our heathen ceremony presided over by my brother the Magus.)

My attempt at being productive today is not going well. So far, while trying to do laundry I dropped half a container of oxyclean on the floor, realized that when I sent Mom down the laundry aisle last week to get the woolite, she bought a different version of it that I cannot use because one sniff of it freaked out my sinuses, and the laundry bag I use to help me carry the laundry back and forth is missing. The ducks are nibbling on my spoons. I'm hoping my attempt at exercise goes a little smoother.