I've taken a bunch of pictures, and put them on the web. They're just for me, to use as references even when I'm not connected to my NAS. They are foldered by major divisions Supernatural vs. Other TV, key stuff like that.

And then I tag them. There are thousands out there. Who's in the pic? What is their weapon? Which direction are they facing? What are they wearing? So I can find the exact right angle for the pictures in my head.

But...the tags I put in recently are gone. Where can I lose a tag? So I have a bunch of that to re do

Woe is me.

Today I bought a pie, got hit with the genderstick (men's underwear and sleepwear are not intimates at Macy's) and just my search for a pair of silk or similar fabric in muted tones...I have a small men's PJ bottom with grey stripes. Everything eles was not worth trying on. Mens stuff: blue green plaid. Womens: bright pink, green, blue with flowers and ruffles and lace.

I ripped the but out of a par of CK forest green PJ pants. That's what I want to replace. And not have the salesperson walk around in circles while we both know there ain't shit there.

I gotta hit the website instead.

Then, oddly, the vitamin store had these "specific" packs. The pack for the guy was to make him successful, the woman's to make her sassy. The first adjective she got for what it could do for her was "beautiful." For him, masterful.

You know, it probably works. But I didn't buy any.

I am so dead for the day. I think I heard that last spoon drop just as I tried to work out where to buy weekend groceries. Instead, lie down. I'm gonna lie down.

Shit, all the clothes that were messy around the room are now sorted for laundry or storage. It's been a while.

Right, lying down. leaving today's drawing for a little.

Finally got my car to the garage to fix my flat tire (I had stupidly bought a tire patch kit, and then realized that I don't have access to a lift anymore). My mechanic? A beautiful Latina with a forearm tattoo and red hair. I felt like an ass because I probably looked like I was ogling her like all the other guys that come in, but it was so awesome! She was my very first woman mechanic, she even had that dead-eye mechanic expression that refuses to make any eye contact (seriously, I've had mechanics ignore me until I had to ask "hey, you guys want my money? If not, I'll just take the car, then!".

God knows I love talking with M, but I really don't love listening to him play over the phone; I lack the right gene or something. I like to play or talk WITH him, but I am bored to distraction just watching/listening to him play on Skype or via phone. I can do it for a few minutes, but I believe if one is calling people, one should talk with those people.

The kids were insistent that DH played games with over Skype but he just can't handle it. He doesn't game and it's frustrating for him. The kids get distracted too easily from the conversation. So they either need to talk to him via Skype or telephone and THEN play.

Yes, ITA! Now, I can happily listen to him read from his latest book, but...

My son and my dad are both working my last nerve witha combo of not listening and asking question they do not really want answer to. Do not ask me where I want to sit if you already have a preference and will suggest and argue for it over what I say.

Do not pitch a fit because I raise my voice when you ask me something I have answered twice or more already.

And finally, if I say I do not know, stop asking me. My knowledge is not going to change without an influx of information and I have no source for information.

I have an appointment to donate blood on Wednesday. There's something I haven't done in a while. I hope they take it, I used to like donating regularly.

I've decided that my excuse to be out of work Tuesday morning for my court date is that I'm getting no hot water in my electric water tank and have to wait for the plumber first thing Tuesday morning. The lime and calcium corroded the heating element and needs to be replaced. yeah...

Then, oddly, the vitamin store had these "specific" packs. The pack for the guy was to make him successful, the woman's to make her sassy. The first adjective she got for what it could do for her was "beautiful." For him, masterful.

OK, I can't decide if I think that's more or less bad than when they do that to kids.

Got my hairs cut, can't stop eating hummus. These are unrelated.

It's happening again. My sister's in town with her boyfriend, staying over at my niece's place. We were going to have breakfast together this morning, time unspecified. We've been pushing forward the time of our meal all day. It's now 6:15 and I haven't eaten anything but soup all day, waiting for them to decide when to have a meal. Of course, they went and got breakfast and lunch without me because they were busy. Now we're going to grill steaks, and I still don't know when. I swear. From now on I'm going to proceed as if they don't exist.

Got my hairs cut, am not sure I like it, but my styling regimen is leaving the car window open on the way to work, so I can't complain (more sleep for MEEEEEEE!). I'll be wearing a sunhat or my Polish widows rag (I have a hair accessory that is a shiny lacy tube that I fold almost in half, and a coworker declared that when wearing it not only was I Polish (incidentally I am a quarter), but had a dead husband. Which was hilarious because I was leading a group of special needs volunteers, and one complimented my headwear, then immediately asked if I was Polish).