Your Evil Spleen: Oooooo.. I had a bad case of issaquah once, it was really gross until I took care of it with some antibiotics.

The boy will be driving me to a doctor's appointment in Issaquah early Saturday. I managed to get a quick weekend appointment for my hand/wrist/arm pain.

Health clubs are scary and I've never even been inside of one. I've been getting fliers for a cheap deal from one so I called for more information, since I can read the fine print and see things like one-time processing fee. Ideally I'd like to join an all-women's gym because I expect to be intimidated by large muscular men.

Anyway, the next thing I know I have an appointment to see the club and talk about "options". Andrew warns me,

"just make sure you have a clear head when you go... don't do what I ended up doing at the car place ;)"
"right, don't buy a car.."
"yep"

I've been in a bad mood today and have this image of myself as a fluffy-style black cat, perched on top of a bookshelf growling at anyone who walks by.

Computer Solitaire will exist as long as people need to be distracted from whatever it is they're really supposed to be doing.

It may be a sign of predictability when I can walk into a restaurant and be told the price without bothering to order.

One of my favorite parts of reading any book is the Discovery of the Title. Not every book gives any significance to the title, but often it's a line in the book and when I reach that point I feel as if I've made a discovery.

"Sometimes during the summer, I have this dream about Edythe Spevey and me. We're on the swing that hangs from the pecan tree in our back yard. [...] Somehow the whole world looks like little altars everywhere."

"This time I read the title of the painting: Girl Interrupted at Her Music."

With the way I've gone through books lately I've started reading two or three at a time. Woman: An Intimate Geography. The Poisonwood Bible. Understanding Comics. I'm rereading The Poisonwood Bible because I remember it as such an amazing, intense story. Now the book taunts me because I can't finish it in a day or two even as I give it more and more of my attention.

My entire Bitch/Slut/Cunt collection is gone again since Paul is reading Bitch.

The pictures of Jake's apartment during the Blogathon gave me nightmares. Some things never change...

"Sleep is a poor substitute for caffeine" – Brett

This might appeal to the design geeks out there. (I hope I'm not the only one.) Buzzword greeking.

It shouldn't surprise me that the close men in my life aren't "breast men". Being small comes with an automatic filter. Shallow 'big boobs or nothing' type men would never bother to approach me when size is pretty clear from the start. I take this as a good thing.

The guys around me seem to be pretty nipple oriented though...

It's funny how seeing Sanrio toys in a store can stop me in my tracks, even as I'm stepping on an escalator.

I'm sure if Monday was real I would have had something today, but I'm now convinced that Monday was only a mental time-filler so the week wouldn't have to start on Tuesday.

A more reasonable explanation is that Monday's updating energy went behind the scenes.

I just got spam of, "Subject: Notification: Your Computer is Too Slow!"

F-16s Pursue Unknown Craft Over Region

I gave new meaning to "not tonight honey, I have a headache," when I banged my head on the back bar of my bed this afternoon.

The Blogathon is going on today. I didn't join, not wanting to spend an entire day at my computer updating my 'blog, not to mention how bad I am at fundraising, but I did sponsor Jake who's Blogging For a Cause.

I'm waiting to see how Insane Social Week ends up. Completely unplanned I've had someone different come by this week, along with rollerblading with Izzy Sunday.

Monday, Jeremy. Tuesday, David. Wednesday is Andrew night. Thursday Mara brought back my Slut book, so my set was complete again—Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women, Slut: Growing Up Female with a Bad Reputation, and Cunt: A Declaration of Independence. Friday Shannon dropped by to pick up velvety clothes, and took Slut and Cunt.

I'm suddenly understanding why people have trouble sleeping in as they get older. The alarm was set early because Andrew and I are going to see the Powerpuff Girl movie in Tukwila, the day's only showing, but I'm out of bed because my hands hurting wouldn't let me sleep.

Who would have thought? Fast food can make you fat! Now a guy is trying to sue four major fast food chains for his health problems after eating their food 5 or 6 times a week.

Ever needed the sign language for "Soon I'll be Darth Vader," The delicate mechanisms of my sanity are precariously balanced," or "I work at Wal-Mart"? Fudtz Sign Language.

Mara brought back my 'Slut' book last night and I got back Cunt which was being passed around a while, so now my set is complete.

Slut – Growing Up Female With a Bad Reputation
Bitch – In Praise of Difficult Women
Cunt – A Declaration of Independence

If there are any more in this theme, feel free to pass them on!

My mom scared me with an email tonight. "Okay I admit it. I read your web site. Now do we have to talk." In those kind of moments every bit of TMI I've posted goes through my head. Was it the brass nipples? The 'trendy bi-girl wannabe' part? Naked boys walking around the apartment? Then she tells me, "There is nothing wrong with men without shirts as long as they look like men and not air brushed toys."

Pete is trying so hard to get quoted on my site again, but when everything he says is so insanely random and odd I don't know where to begin.

Add to my list of drives I hate: the ones who don't even slow down for a crosswalk.

BookCrossing is sort of like the Where's George? of books. It looks fun but I don't want to give up my books to release them into the wild, except for the bad ones.

I started playing a bit of Civ again to pass some time, planning on a quick small game, but the games haven't understood that I want to have fun and win. The Americans are guaranteed to declare war on me each time. Well today I saw that the game somehow got set to the third level up, instead of the nice easy one I like to play.

Walking around the industrial area I work in lets me examples of nearly every bad driver I hate as a pedestrian:

There are the SUVs (they're always SUVs anymore) who stop a minimum of halfway into the crosswalk making me walk into the street to get around, and if it's big and tall enough, not be able to see over it to the crossing light at all.

There are the long trucks that turn right before I step out, so that by the time they're past the light is no longer green for me.

There will always be cars turning left in front of me after their light has turned red and I'm already crossing the street. Yesterday there was an SUV that was impatient enough with the guy stopping in front of him at the yellow turn light, that when honking didn't make the car run the light, he turned off into a parking lot and went around that way.

A train was going by so cars were backed up to the previous intersection. The ones behind were honking at the ones in front during the green light, even though the cars couldn't move without blocking the intersection, another driving sin.

David kept me up past my bedtime so I didn't make it to updating for another night.

It was incredibly hot inside so I had been wearing just a sarong while washing clothes. He, reluctantly I'm sure, let me get dressed and lead him to the park to see if the swings are back. We laid in new grass and looked at the sky. He pointed out a point of light and I saw my first satellite hurrying across a triangle of stars.

This seems like a good time to start screaming, "We're all gonna die!!!" if you're into that kind of thing. An asteroid is on a collision path with the Earth for 2019.

I may have finally reached the 'give in and go to a doctor' point for my hand/arm pain, but the irony is I don't feel I can miss anymore work. It's all been legitimate, but over the past month and a half, I've taken my two vacation days to go to Montreal, my birthday holiday making a four day weekend, and the very next week had jury duty.

With all the time I put into reading this story Izzy sent me to, I feel obligated to link to it now: She Hates My Futon

Things are a bit late again because I nearly lost all of Thursday's posts in the laptop to floppy exchange.

I heard about this fish with sharp teeth able to walk across land a little while ago, but I just couldn't take something like that seriously when seen in an email.

I no longer have trouble buying a box of tampons by itself if that's all I happen to need at the time. I'm comfortable enough in my Modern Womanness not burry them underneath a box of cookies and bottle of shampoo that I don't really need.

I went to Barnes & Noble today to pick up the book I had looked at a while back, A Bright Red Scream, which I hadn't bought because I wanted another book to balance. I didn't want to ask where to find the book in the store so I wandered the floor and finally found it on my own on the bottom shelf of the psychology section. I didn't want to buy this book by itself either. I was looking for Understanding Comics as well, which I had no idea was classified "hard to find". (Should have bought that one years ago when I meant to.) I had wanted to walk up the counter with it just incidentally placed between a graphic design book and some random fiction, or a box of cookies and a bottle of shampoo.

The cashier was very meek sounding. While I try to think she's always that way, I can't help thinking it was my fault and that I caught her off guard unable to make small talk about my reading choices.

If girl-nipples are offensive in public, then why is there nothing wrong with the giant picture of Shirtless Guy to be looking out at me as I walk by Acrombie & Finch?

The weather finally gave in today and decided to be 'mostly sunny' instead of 'party cloudy', as well as in the 90s! Eeek!

I consider myself mostly good at the bellydance festival yesterday since I got out of there only buying two things—a purple velvet skirt, much like the previous one that was too small, and a burgundy velvet hip scarf.

Doug made me into Vampire-Kitty with electrical tape last night!

If I'm not around to update this weekend, it's because of a housewarming party, birthday party, the Bite of Seattle, Seagoth rollerblading, a bellydancing festival, and the Vogue.

"A computer games firm has been accused of pushing back the frontiers of bad taste after it announced that it was seeking to advertise its latest title on gravestones."

Really.

Let's ignore the insensitivity issue and think about this logically for a minute. Who would be viewing these ads? Game players? How about people close to someone who just died, hardly the target market. Game players close to someone who just died? A very small market I'd hope... And here I thought it was getting bad to not be able to look down at the floor in the grocery store without being persuaded to buy.

I can't say I've never won anything now that I've gone to pick up my free fish dinner at Ivars.

I had the strangest craving last night for cheap root beer in a plastic bottle.

Andrew and I were at Northgate for food last week. I think it was the kitty ears causing my inner-cat to crave fish. I threw one of my business cards in the "win a free something-or-other" bowl because I have to make use of them somehow. Well, Jason tells me Ivars called and I won free food!

I've noticed a lot of couples seem to have a "date night," a night of the week they spend together. Andrew and I have never made one official, but Wednesday night is Vogue night and it's been Andrew night as long as I can really remember us getting together. I know at least I'd feel weird about making plans for a Wednesday without that don't involve him. Lately it's feeling more like our night, where going to the Vogue or Aurafice just happens to be something we can do.

So we started watching the X-Files DVDs again last night. I've forgotten how weak Scully's character used to be! This can't be the same person who decided to order a pizza while doing an autopsy, unable to handle a few mutilated dead bodies last night. I'm looking forward to the strong Scully I admire.

I'm working up editing old posts again. This time I've decided to leave everything except the HTML and spelling mistakes intact, excessive comma and '....' use and all.

"Can't get too red for me, though that's probably getting close." – Paul on my hair.

I just finished reading All We Know Of Heaven, the first fiction I've read in a while, so there's no page of commentary to go along. I've also started reading Woman an Intimate Geography though, and already in the first chapter I've started marking off places.

As she washed her hands before performing a vaginal procedure, she repeated a smirking remark that she'd heard from one of her instructors years earlier. "He told me, 'Washing your hands before doing vaginal surgery is like taking a shower before taking a crap,'" Bustillo said. The vagina is quite dirty, she continued, so there is nothing you could introduce into it with your hands that would be worse than what's already there. (This bit of official wisdom, by the way, is an old husband's tale, a load of crap, as we will discuss in Chapter 4.)

I'm wearing my Bad Kitty shirt at work and no one's said a thing.

I'm getting used to wearing a normal watch again, since my Hello Kitty hot pink one died going down a water slide when I forgot to take it off.

I've had one web calculator tell me I burn about 1600 calories a day just existing, basal metabolic rate. I have another one recommending I eat less than 1500 calories a day, no matter how high I tell it my activity level is. It seems to be a British site—maybe they eat less over there. I've heard the food is horrible.

There are freckles on my forehead! I'm quite sure those weren't there before.

I'm afraid I know how to manipulate my dad too well. When he asked what I wanted for my birthday I gave a short list: more pictures of my cat, shiny things, a GeForce 4 video card, a Miata.

He never sends pictures even when promised. "Shiny things" is too vague for him to interpret and he probably discarded the idea immediately. It would have been the same if I said something like velvet curtains. A video card, however, is an appropriate geek toy.

When my box came I said, "I know it's a small car, but it still won't fit in here."

My dad had asked if I knew how to install it. Despite wanting me to be a "real" programmer or an engineer, he used to think even installing software was too complicated for me. Andrew knows I want to learn more of this myself, so he only watched me take apart my computer and move things around.

Later I got the usual 'did you get..?' email from him. "Did you get the Miata I sent you?" I'm still shocked. My dad made a joke?

I'm feeling a bit lost about what I should be doing now. I'm not seeing a direct connection between reading books and getting a better job. I wish that along with a resume, I could submit a list of the books I've read lately.

I'm not seeing a direct connection between interesting things happening and writing interesting things about them. I've been lax on my posting. Or between ideas on improving this site, and knowing how to do it, let alone getting anything done.

I do however, see a connection between writing about not being able to write, and turning out to have a lot to say.

I dyed my hair not-even-going-to-pretend-this-is-natural red Friday. Now when I wash my hair, my shampoo turns pink!

I've been going in circles trying to work on this site. I get close to thinking total redesign and remind myself that the important part in a weblog is this long white field of text.

Whenever I go to get tea at work, I remember the scary one telling me "You can't do that right now!" because the coffee was brewing.

I burned up the roof of my mouth on too-hot soup, followed by some scratchy bread. Hot food is now painfully hot, and soy sauce is basically putting salt in the wound. Oops...

me: ow.. bad soy sauce
Andrew: I never thought I'd hear you say that

Last night was one of those amazing nights at the Vogue where everyone imaginable shows up and the music is great. Having Gryphon show up, as rare as he does, it still a novelty because I get my original set of boys together again. Of course this meant I was dead tired at work this morning, trying to get by without caffeine.

It's funny how people have been acting like yesterday was my birthday, even people who saw me last week, because my party was yesterday. And I don't understand why some people don't like celebrating birthdays. Having 12 people gathered for the sake of me (and water slides) is a good feeling. Andrew pointed out that I always seem to get people half-naked for my b-day. No strip-twister this year, but we did turn it into a cuddle party afterwards at Andrew & Izzy's.

Chasing Amy was pretty much Jake and my movie, so it was a strange experience to watch it again while in the middle of a 4-5 person cuddle group.

It's about time—they're finally going to start adding some color to American money.

I picked up Dragon wine and Hello Kitty gum from Uwajimaya on my way home.

One more day until water park!! *boinginess*

This is pure cute & cuddly kitten-y goodness—ratemykitten.com.

This one must have been what Smokey looked like at such an age. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww..........

I don't understand the reason people give against tattoos, that it'll look bad when you're old. When I'm 80 years old my skin will be ugly and wrinkly along with my (future) tattoo and doesn't mean in any way that I didn't get many years of enjoyment out of it. Who really cares at that point?

I've been in jury duty for the last two days... two days and you're free if not picked by the current system. I hear it used to be a week. David had told me they'd never pick a jury which believes in jury nullification. It's funny how true that is—as soon as I volunteered that information, the lawyers had me out of there in a second.

I was stuck between wanting to do my civic duty, and not wanting to be stuck doing the awful commute to Kent. Overall the experience was interesting, much waiting, and good long breaks for lunch. I found a wonderful women's book store yesterday, and thrift stores today, spending more money than I'm making on jury duty.

Is it any surprise? I am the Cheshire cat...

You're the epitome of insane. Either you're very smart, or you're too damn stupid. The world is your playground, and everything—and everyone—in it is a toy for you to play with. People should be scared of you, but because you're so affable, they aren't. Tough for them.

If you're a bit unsure about your car or truck's manhood.. try out truck nuts!

My mom called today to tell me Scott was asking why I hadn't updated in so long. I guess that's a sign I need to start again.

This one's just for him:

me: scott was looking up goth online
Andrew: oh dear
me: scott's pretty good about this stuff.. he's the one who reads my web site and says i can't scare him
Andrew: yeah, but still... bad goth poetry will scare anyone!

The big thunder and rainstorm made this an unfortunate, but realistic, day for two local men to start Homeless Week.

Be sure to wish Bush Jr a happy birthday today too by donating money to a group like Planned Parenthood in his name.

I went to the Vogue last night for the crossover to my birthday, and got DJ love when Doug announced it. Then Andrew and I found Kenmore on our search for a Denny's that wouldn't be overrun just after the club closing and hadn't been closed down. Bellevue would've been closer.

I am now the proud owner of a five pound bag of fortune cookies.

I'm not really big into the 4th of July holiday. I think there are good things about this country and bad things about this country, one of the good things being that I can say there are bad things. But I've never understood being proud of something you have no control over, being in one place over another. And a holiday based around exploding things brings out the obnoxiousness in people.

On the other hand, fireworks are sparkly and pretty. I've always thought they make a good early birthday present.

The funny thing is the people who sounded like they were going to get off on the show. "Yes! Yes! Oh yes!"

Again on the common sense—is it too much to ask of you to turn off car alarms before the fireworks display!?

I found a Bad Kitty shirt in Metro today! To prove this wasn't an impulse buy, I kept repeating, "I need a bad kitty shirt! I've been looking for a bad kitty shirt for years! I must have a bad kitty shirt!"

People really need to get some more common sense. Before you go shooting up some place, think about what your excuse is going to be when you get caught. If it's not going to fly, you'd better rethink your plans.

"Authorities said Patrick Gott, a Muslim man who was charged in the shooting, told them he opened fire because people had made fun of his turban at a restaurant shortly before he went to the airport."

This won't be current by-the-day because it takes me some time to get around to reading an article I know will make me want to cry and kill someone at the same time: Girl Ordered Gang-Raped in Pakistan

My original post was written late last night and made no sense, beyond help of my editor. It meant something along the lines of: Happy 4th of July to everyone except the Canadians who I took care of Monday. I'm assuming everyone who reads is upper North American, but if I missed anyone, happy Thursday.

Making sure to take the fun out of everything... Fireworks: Breathtaking ... and Deadly

When I got to work today, Karla had a big bowl of peanutbutter cups and fortune cookies for my birthday. It's such a funny combination, but she had found out the things I like.

I found my virtual Pikachu in my coat pocket yesterday. He's calling me a 'meanine' for ignoring him for so long. This would have been the advantage with a normal step meter, that it wouldn't get upset when it was no longer needed. My Pikachu may need a foster home.

If I say it's nice waking up at 1am to a boy getting in bed with me, am I opening myself up for random people to come through my window at night?

"My magical driving ability may not be able to save you today." Andrew drove me to work today so I wouldn't have to risk bus trouble on the day before a holiday. Even with an accident blocking three lanes he got me to work in seven minutes.

I hit dead tiredness last night about 10:00 and nearly didn't get the site updated. What was sacrificed was a description for the news article I posted:

Bush has been overdoing a joke lately, claiming the budget should stay balanced except in the case of war, recession or national emergency, "I never expected I would have a trifecta." It turns out Bush isn't the one who said the original quote at all—it was Al Gore.

It smells like someone is cooking the really good macaroni I love and the smell is coming in through my bathroom window as I shower... mmmmm......

A Sound Bite So Good, the President Wishes He Had Said It

Reading Fast Food Nation, between the descriptions of the meatpacking industry and effects of E. coli, makes me not want to eat food at all, let alone fast food.

"Today the U.S. government can demand the nationwide recall of defective softball bats, sneakers, stuffed animals, and foam-rubber toy cows. But it cannot order a meatpacking company to remove contaminated, potentially lethal ground beef from fast food kitchens and supermarket shelves.

I put my request that I don't want to miss the Fremont Solstice parade and the Pride Parade next year. Andrew had gotten in just ahead of me with plans when we met at the Vogue last week. Before I could mention Pride, "Did I tell you there's a LAN party Sunday?"

"No."
"There's a LAN party Sunday."

I hate to admit it, but not going to the Vogue on Sunday night seems to do good for me. I was much more functional yesterday, awake enough this morning to get out of bed early, and even left for work early.

Then, I get to the bus tunnel with no bus in sight and end up late to work just as if I had left 20 minutes later.

I woke up from a dream that my arms were deformed overnight by weight lifting.

I found a nectarine in my pocket!

Following some links around tonight, I ended up on the web site of a women's magazine. I'm admitting I read some of the articles, but I do so in the same way as I read men's magazines when they're laying around—like I'm studying another culture. I've found out 9 things I should never say to my man, what my sleeping style says about my marriage.. er.. something.. and 5 things super-happy couples do every day—other than being obnoxiously cute in public, that is.

I am further admitting that the "Who Knows You Best: Husband or Friend?" [women's magazines are heavily marriage biased] has my curiosity, and doesn't require letting the magazine spam my friends. It gives the list of questions to email and compare answers. I'm hoping that Andrew and Selina will humor me and answer these questions, and anyone else who wants to play along can email me with their guesses.

Q: What's her favorite book or movie?

Q: What's her favorite song?

Q: What's her most embarrassing moment?

Q: What's the autograph she'd treasure most?

Q: Where does she love to be touched?

Q: What's her idea of a romantic evening?

Q: Who was her biggest crush?

Q: What is she most likely to lie about?

Q: What's the body part she'd change through cosmetic surgery?

Q: Who's her female role model?

Q: What is the number of men she slept with before she met her husband boyfriend?

Q. What kind of food does she crave?

Q. What really bugs her?

Q. What's her dream job?

Q. Who's her secret crush?

Q. What's her favorite dessert?

Q. What makes her cry?

Q. What makes her laugh?

Q. What's her favorite food?

Pete is suggesting I flash my opponents at the LAN party to gain an advantage. The problem, I tell him, is Andrew's usually the one in my visual range and he must be used to me by now to not be distracted so easily while gaming. (Plus he's not the one I need an advantage against ;) )

I Minxie I: say something
Styrdyst: what?
I Minxie I: I dunno, how 'bout something witty, spontaneous, intelligent and eccentric?
Styrdyst: when come back bring pie!

The Bartells by my bus stop remodeled and doubled size, but still didn't do anything about the line wait time. A girl in front of me set her basket down and walked out, probably decided it wasn't worth missing a bus over. I know the feeling.

It was mystery toothpaste morning. I couldn't find my toothpaste and as soon as I gave up and was about to use the mini sample one I have laying around, I remembered Andrew is keeping his in the medicine cabinet in his new apartment. I checked the medicine cabinet, and there it was. Now he insists he's never been inside mine and I certainly didn't put my toothpaste there.

Happy Canada Day to my Canadian boys!