~ Spent most of the day at MusicalGal's, chatting with her, playing with her puppy/dog, and cooking eggs

~While there, asked her to talk me through setting up a Facebook account. I am tired of hearing about people's engagements/babies/lifechanging career moments thirdhand, four weeks later. Heaven only knows how likely I am to check it, but there. Facebook. I has it. *pokes it suspiciously*

~Also while there, FELT THE BABY KICK ME HELLO. Hi, Chord! You exist!

~Took MiddleBro out for dinner/movie, as arranged (I am bribing him to come help me move Talkative tomorrow because we have only one person with actual muscle tone.)

~In a fenderbender. Completely not my fault--the guy slammed his breaks, it was slick. However, A) I got ticketed, which will hurt my insurance rates and seriously damage my prospects of getting a good nanny job (damndamndamndamndamndamnDAMN) and B) I think I bruised a kidney. Seriously.

~Chile's has severely downsized their glutenfree menu, including removing my comfort soup. Grrr.

~Saw Percy Jackson. I've never read the books, but I WILL NOW. That was much, MUCH more awesome than it had any right to be. The satyr made the whole film.
I hate how adapting my resume to appeal to offices and retail places means CUTTING MORE THAN HALF OF IT OUT.

I have a very specialized skill set. It's not that part of that skill set isn't transferable--multitasking, organization, communication, etc.--it's just that I have so much MORE to offer a childcare position. There's no point in telling somebody who wants a secretary that I aced my Teaching Art and Music class, for example.

BAH, HUMBUG.
Tonight, I stepped on a two-inch piece of steel and drove it entirely under the surface of my skin so that there was nothing for my tweezers to grab. I couldn't walk--I could barely limp completely on the other side of my foot without going all dizzy and falling over.

There was nowhere to go but the E.R. because nowhere else was OPEN at ten o'clock on a Sunday night (idiocy). I would gladly have gone to anybody with a needle, some basic drugs, a tetanus inoculation, and a scalpel, but to the E.R. I went because, well, I needed to walk and sleep, what with the exam I can't miss tomorrow.

So I drove to the hospital with my left foot, and spent considerable time trying to find the E. R. entrance (mental note: along with needing to find a grocery store, post office, bank when you move to a new town, find the E.R., just to avoid having to search for it through a haze of pain. You idiot.) I am covered in Band-Aids (exaggeration: 2) and wearing a hospital bracelet (not an exaggeration, but an idiocy) and very weary of healthcare in the United States, where there was apparently one doctor in the E.R. for the entire night shift. Which means that the guy ahead of me with a serious injury getting treated first--which is TOTALLY OKAY WITH ME, please do the serious injuries first!--meant I sat in a cold room for four hours in order to have a procedure that took ten minutes, tops, including waiting for the local to kick in.

If I can't walk tomorrow morning I am going to be extremely cranky about it.
See, the plan was: almost-finish packing on Friday, drive down with a carload to babysit younger sibs while parents/oldest younger sib are out of town for a wedding, then come back down and finish packing today. Tonight, my dad was supposed to come up with a borrowed trailer and haul all my crap down the mountain. (Doing this twice a year is, unbelievably, cheaper and less hassle than renting a storage unit, because I live in a tiny college town that knows their principles of supply and demand.)

BUT my dad called on Saturday and was all, "So, business trip. Can't be there till Thursday."


  • The things I took down on my own were clothes, because I could lift them on my own; I still had about half the dresser left to pack. Which means that I currently have available to me: four pairs of pants, six bras, all of my pajamas, and the silk Brazilian things I don't dare wear in public without a) being covered in plastic wrap to protect them and b) the strapless bra that is not among the bras I still have here. And the one shirt I drove back in last night. I'M NOT SMART, OKAY, I FORGOT I WOULD NEED TO WEAR THINGS.

  • OMG. All the classes I want to take are taught in alternate years, and ALL OF THEM are not being taught until the year AFTER next. I ran to my advisor in a panic and I THINK I am going to be okay, but O.M.G. fr srs, IS COLLEGE NEVER GOING TO END???? I was hoping to GRADUATE next spring!!! (That hope is now dead, FYI.)

  • I have no web at home and no real desire to sit here pretending that I am not talking about how adorable Brendon Urie is in the school computer labs, so I will be checking in once a day and probably only commenting v.v.v. occasionally. Most posts that I would jump in and say something encouraging or ask a silly question or whatever I am skipping over--and I'm kind of skimming anyway, may miss something important, so PLEASE e-mail me if you seriously need my attention. I do get e-mail on my phone, so it will be more immediate.

  • I ate all my groceries on purpose, and am now trying to figure out whether I can live on the dry goods I intended to take down and maybe half a gallon of milk. WITHOUT cooking anything, because it was the roommate-who-already-left's job to do the kitchen, and I do not want to have to redo the sparkling job she did.

  • Greta is hanging out w/ Panic in L.A. and I am going to die of joy. HI PRETTY GIRL, I SEE YOU THERE.
Dear Powers That Be:

HOW MANY ARTICLES ON MUSIC AND TODDLERS CAN THERE POSSIBLY BE IN THIS DATABASE?

BETTER QUESTION: WHY DO I HAVE TO LOOK OVER 830 SEARCH RESULTS TO FIND, MAXIMUM, TWENTY. DAMN. RELEVANT RESULTS????????

Seriously. I have clicked and re-clicked the "AND" option, yet it still insists on showing me a zillion articles that contain ONLY "music" or "toddlers." Moreover, there is no "NOT" option, and I am really, really, REALLY sick of getting excited and clicking something only to discover that it is YET ANOTHER article about music for toddlers at risk for autism, deafness, or other disabilities. Not that it's not awesome that music can help them, but SERIOUSLY, NOT WHAT I PERSONALLY AM LOOKING FOR AT THE MOMENT.

Also, this library is creepy. And freezing cold.

And I am whiny and petty and can't even feel ashamed of it. WHY DID I DECIDE TO GET MY EDUCATION, WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?????????????????


Yrs in crankiness,
Lu

P.S. Why do all the promising articles cost money to read?

P.P.S. What the hell does that MEAN, "culturally deaf"??
Why can't YouTube just MAGICALLY CONTAIN the bits of the Live in Denver DVD that I want to watch? I must have heard Brendon tell me about high school like seventeen times, but I have only found two tiny bits of what Shane shot. Is that ALL THERE IS on the whole DVD?

I mean, not that I can't sufficiently extrapolate from that, but I really want to watch more of it if there is more! THIS IS WHEN THEY MET!! I WANT ALL THE INFO I CAN GET! INTERNETS, WHY ARE YOU FAILING ME?

*cries a little*



ETA: On the other hand, how inspiring is that Open Happiness video, fr srs? HI SHANE IN THE BACKGROUND, DO YOU TWO NEVER SEPARATE FROM EACH OTHER?
The Apple support forums consider the abbreviation WTF to be obscene enough to be replaced with asterisks.

It's almost amusing enough to save me from being murderously irritated by iTunes.

Not quite, but almost.
Boooooooored.

I was meant to finish ripping audiobooks this morning so that I could take them back to the library (they have to go back today), but I got distracted by [livejournal.com profile] harriet_vane informing me that Brendon is the youngest of nine and also that Panic performed for Brendon's church when they were still the Summer League. (WHAT?? SERIOUSLY. WHAT COULD THEY POSSIBLY HAVE PLAYED? DID HE TEACH THEM THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC FOR ELECTRIC GUITAR???...okay, fine, realistically it was probably, like, a talent show where they just had to find a church-appropriate cover they could do. But still. The mind boggles) and [livejournal.com profile] sunset_mog informing me that the disturbingly Haley-like woman who accompanied Ryan to the VMAs years ago was not Ginger, but in fact a publicist or something like that.

In between this we discussed things like what Brendon's ward must have thought of Ryan and his weird ear-plug thing, baby!fic, and what music Zack is likely to be disgusted by. It was all very, very fun, but I should have been ripping while I e-mailed because now I have nothing to do while I wait for the stupid CDs to finish. I even finished my last Heyer, dammitall, and have nothing to read.


Boooooooored.
P.S. Someone remind me it is bad manners to correct the grammar of this person's paper when it's not my job to peer-review it and she's already turned it in.

I won't, not really, but, seriously--when we're writing academic papers, we use complete sentences. No, really.
It's really amazing how much you can want to kill somebody you hardly know.

Admittedly, this is the judgemental obnoxious homophobe having loud conversations with my roommate in the middle of the night on the other side of an extremely thin wall, in the home where technically we're contractually obliged not to have overnight guests. When I have an early class tomorrow morning.

Admittedly, I require that my home be a sanctuary and I feel that she shreds the very peace of the universe.

Still. It's really amazing how much I want her dead just at this moment.
Frustrating: intriguing summary, bad sentence structure.

It doesn't matter if it's a good story if I have to stop every three sentences to parse what the author thinks she's saying. *grumpy* Get a beta, for heaven's sake.
AND THEN THEY SENT ME HOME WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING.


Seriously.

So mad I could spit.

I missed a class I really can't afford to miss, took time off work, dealt with five insane phone calls yesterday as they tried to get some kind of idea what the hell they were doing (at which they clearly failed), waited FOUR HOURS to be taken into the procedure room, and was told:

Oh. Right. You had incorrect information on preparing for this test, which it was our job to inform you about. We can't do it on you.



NOT ONLY that--which would have been plenty--the doctor was ill-informed and patronizing. His information was based on a disease he still called sprew, which had no connection to the nervous system. His information on the accuracy of the blood test was supremely out of date. He told me it was placebo effect. (Hello? Like we haven't tried three other methods, each of them FAR MORE likely to have a placebo effect, if that was all it was.) He was all, you're depressed because you're stressed. This leads to sleep loss which leads to IBS. Decrease the stress in your life and you'll be fine!

My mother suggested we egg his office.

Anybody want to come to the grocery store with me?
My head is too fuzzy to concentrate on a book or the podfics I have on my ipod, but I am SO BORED.

I have been waiting three hours for them to come do my procedure.

It took two to get into the prep room, five minutes to get me prepped, and it was to be ten minutes til they were ready for me.
Hah.

But the meds are dripping into me from an IV and I can't quite foucs on narrative...this has taken me--yeesh fiftteen minutes to type.

Stupid backward planet.

Stupid hospital

Stupid drugs

No really I feel stupider

For this I missed the class I actually like?
GRAH.

WHERE IN GOD'S NAME ARE MY RESTORATION DISKS???


I AM GOING TO SPANK THE PEOPLE WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO MAIL THEM TO ME.

SPANK.



NOT IN THE FUN WAY.

PAIN.

AGONY.

POSSIBLE DISMEMBERMENT.



GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.



(p.s. sorry bout the capslock but seriously I need a computer)
QUESTION: Why does GTalk MAKE NO SENSE?

Why can I not tell the chat thingummy that I want to know when someone is online so as to initiate conversation with them? Why do I have to send them a chat invite in order to have them on my "like to talk to them" list? They're in my address book, but they don't show up in my--whatever you call it, the equivalent of a Buddy List. Why NOT? I do not want to send them ten million chat invites when they are offline. I want to KNOW when they COME online.



GRRRRR.



ETA: Lord only knows what I've done to any or all of the people I was trying to figure out GTalk with. So, if I accidentally sent you a nuclear missile...sorry?
For the past week, my computer has been randomly bluescreening. Fifteen minutes to an hour of running, CRASH.

Because each of the five troubleshooting options offered by Windows Help takes anywhere between eight and twenty-four hours to complete, and I need my computer, what with being a college student, I haven't taken it in yet, despite the fact that I was fairly sure it was a hardware issue, and anyway I need to because the adaptor cord died and it's still under warranty.

Last night I finally finished the last of the suggested checks, and it died on me again.

I threw up my hands. All right! All right! You're going in!

I just turned it on this morning to get done what I could by way of backing things up and some homework I'd rather not be doing in the library.

...it hasn't crashed once in four hours.


*h2k*
THE ************* DIZZINESS IS BACK.

I just...I cannot even COPE, okay? I was FINE. I haven't had one in TWO AND A HALF MONTHS. The medication was WORKING.

I have hopes that it is merely the flu being passed around my house and workplace...dizziness is one of the symptoms...but I have a horrible feeling it isn't.

WTF???
In news for the RL folks, the video game concert is not offering student tickets. Our lowest price on offer is $48.

...does anybody still want to go...?

Cause, really? I'm out, pretty much.
WHY IS IT that every time I edit a filtered entry it changes to PUBLIC VIEWING, despite the fact that the little boxes are still checked? WHY, OH GODS OF LJ, WHY???
SO BORED

My nanny job asked me to come in today because their Tuesday regular is out of town.

Thing is? The kid left three hours ago. On the school bus. Mom asked me not to leave because I couldn't lock the door behind me, but I found a door that'll let me...but I didn't tell her I'd be leaving and I don't like to without her knowing I won't be here, although I wish she'd hurry up and get back, she's half an hour late.

If I'd known I was just going to be hanging I'd have at least brought a book--

*dog barks*
*Lu goes to check if there's a package being delivered*

O. M. G.

SO THE KID CAME BACK

It's a good thing I didn't just lock the door and skip--if mom were this late and I had?

I'm kind of more than a little tired of parents treating me this way

She was all I GUESS you can wait here, like it was a huge imposition, all I wish I didn't have to leave you alone in my house, but I suppose I have no CHOICE...and omg the 4-yo coming home to an empty house.

Also she is now an hour late and work called three hours ago and asked me to come in early and I said I could...wth?

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