Buffy ,'Lessons'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Thanks Steph. My birthday is the 16Th. So in 2 weeks. And I will be in Florida celebrating with my family.
I think I may insist we go into town (from the beach) and find Cuban food, because I had yet another "Cuban" sandwich here in VT and I just need to admit there will never been a proper Cuban sandwich. The filling was right and tasted yummy, but it wasn't pressed and crispy that's key.
Clearly, omnis, you were trying to lure her to the stairs for nefarious purposes!Clearly! I mean, if I hadn't hit the rear door open button, who knows what would have happened in that box. Two of us all alone.
Ugg, can't even joke about that. Too young. Far too young. I think my prospects of being a dirty old man are going down.
Just spent the last hour on Facebook chat with a young man that hangs out around the house. He wanted girl advice, and I'm the only adult woman he feels comfortable talking to. I told him it was OK if he and the girl ended up friends, because girls like guys they feel safe with. "Don't be the guy she remembers uneasily." He said that was new advice and that girls his age haven't learned to appreciate guys they feel safe with. But the conversation goes on. I feel so maternal.
Also, I need to check the thrift stores in big(ish) cities more often. The Goodwill in Salt Lake has provided me with a Liz Claiborne bag for 3 dollars. It's actually got room for stuff.
Dear Bosslady:
The house manager at this house handles the schedule. That means she handles the PTO requests. You know this. I know this. You know I know this. I know you know this. Don't tell me that you found my PTO request fallen down behind your mailbox. I put it in the house manager's box. You decided to rearrange the office area and dismantle the mailboxes and move them while the house manager was on vacation. That means you took shit out of her mailbox and didn't put it back. When I asked you about it two weeks ago, you bullshitted something about having an idea of some kind of experiment to try to get my shifts covered so I could have my PTO. You then proceeded to ... what? Put my PTO in the control group so I get the placebo instead of the experimental whatthefuckever time off? Look. I get it. Summer is a wacky time - lots of people want to take vacations, a couple of people have had deaths in their families, and someone has back surgery coming up at the end of the month. If you had flat out said to me, "Sorry, this is not going to work at this time, I have to say no to your PTO request," I would have understood. I can't say I'd be happy about it. But it would be a straightforward, clean disappointment at circumstances. Now I'm just plain pissed off, rather specifically at you. So yes, I will be showing up at that staff meeting that's in the middle of my vacation. I shall pointedly announce to everyone that I am on vacation. I shall also pointedly ask in front of both the house manager and the training specialist along with all the other staff precisely what the procedure is at this location for getting PTO requests approved and whether or not it is a procedure just for little ol' me or if it is for everyone. I may also develop the habit of asking these questions frequently on the grounds that rules seem to change when I'm not paying attention and that I wish to keep up with all the changes instead of having them sprung on me at inconvenient times such as three weeks after I turn in a PTO request and one week before my vacation is due to start.
With all the respect you are due, Me.
And, to stir up a hornet's nest...NPR!
From Lunch (n.) To Balding (adj.), Some Words Are Just 'Bad English'
Bosslady wants you to come in from your vacation for a staff meeting? WTF? She can't just leave the minutes in your email?
From Lunch (n.) To Balding (adj.), Some Words Are Just 'Bad English'
This part:
"I don't think anybody in their right mind is arguing doing away with the rules. However, one of the things that I think is frequently overlooked is that we can more or less refer to it as code-switch: You know, we can speak in a number of different registers. When we're talking with friends, we speak one way, and that is markedly different than when we're writing a term paper. And most people have the ability to switch back and forth between these internal dialects, so to speak."
Is the part that governs my stupefaction when I write on FB something like "I haz a sad" and people (NOT Buffistas) jump all over my shit for poor grammar. These are people who know what I do for a living, and who have also read many of my previous posts, which display, if not scintillating deftness with the language, a basic knowledge of grammar, spelling, and syntax. And yet they think I suddenly forgot all that and became Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel. OR MAYBE I'M FUCKING AROUND WITH LANGUAGE FOR FUNSIES, Sweet Italian Jesus you dorks.
(The person who, when I posted "I pwn technology," replied "Too bad you can't spell" just makes me sad. I didn't reply "All your slang are belong to me," but I should have.)
"'Pwn' is regional (i.e. Teh Intertubes) dialect, dear. Look it up."
At work, people thought I created LOLspeak. So I would say out loud 'I can haz a pen?' and they thought that was just how I spoke! I was very embarrassed, and they must have thought I was VERY strange.
Oh, usual, dear. I cringe when I post and run and later see hideous misspellings or grammatical errors. But then give myself a virtual pat on the head because, human here.
Good grief, Andi! Apparently the powers that be do not understand the definition of vacation.
see how she cleverly ties together conversations