you know what I think of? the Monopoly man.
Yeah, I can see that, too.
Willow ,'Empty Places'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
you know what I think of? the Monopoly man.
Yeah, I can see that, too.
Theo,
why get rid of any of the eggs? Let the birds hatch, right?
Damn, I forgot flowers from the garden for Mom.
Ah, well. She was talking, well listening on the phone to my niece when I got back, but she had no idea who she was. So sad.
{{Consuela}} It is good that you are able to be there for her.
I don't got no tumblr, but I do have a blog.
That works! I added it to my iGoogle thing.
I have a blog, but I haven't done anything with it. I can't think of anything to say that I think anyone wants to read.
That's what I like so much about Tumblr. So little impetus to say anything at all. I always like showing pictures.
Yeah, to go buzzword-y, I like being a curator more than a creator.
Yeah, to go buzzword-y, I like being a curator more than a creator.
I read some comment once about someone curating their apartment. And I thought, FINALLY! A descriptor for my piles of books and comics and other crap. It's not "crap," it's "curated items from my life."
Damn, people compare and contrast those two verbs a lot talking about Tumblr, don't they? I ask because I used 'em both yesterday.
My manager has just told me if I don't like the new gig, she will insist she needs me back. Which is one of the nicest things anyone here has said to me. My boss wants to talk to me too, before the week is out, and it seems to be because he wants to announce on Tuesday that I don't work for him anymore.
Does anyone consense on what that means? No. My manager says I can keep doing as much of my old job as I want (there are bits I don't want to let go of, and bits I will projectile vomit up). The new guy surely wants me to work 80 hours a week on his plans for world domination (it will settle down eventually), so we'll see what the middle ground is.
Hell, my manager says I don't even have to move where I sit.
I wonder how cranky co-worker will react. He's been weirdly pissy at all the attention New Director pays me (New D came down to talk to my manager, and cranky said "ooh! he didn't stop at your desk!" Uh, we have our second meeting of the day in five minutes?). I'm not sure how to parse him all the time. It will be weirder when we don't report to the same director, no doubt.
I think I'll take an extra jaunt down the stairs.
Step 1A, go to the mechanic, accomplished.
Step 1B, yell at NTB (the place that did the inspection) for trying to pass off FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS of bullshit repairs on me, none of which the Honda mechanic says I need.
I am so pissed. "Your master cylinder is leaking! Your power steering pump is leaking! You need four new tires!"