Monday, July 07, 2003
adorably annoying
When I got home today, there was no toilet paper left on the roll in our bathroom. No biggie, I get a new one from under the sink. However, I then glance down on the floor and see about 1/4 roll of toilet paper folded haphazardly on the floor, directly under the empty roll.
Cute kitty. *sigh*
My job is probably over tomorrow, but I got a call from a different temp agency saying they have a whole bunch of legal-type jobs for people with mad typing skillz including, perhaps, your oh-so-humble-narrator.
Got my first paycheck in the mail today. About $200 bucks but then I started in the middle of the week. It's something, but I want more. Money money money money. Preferably enough so that I can buy this, and enough to go to Frisco for Ayako's 23rd. Why does *everyone* have to be born this month? Tomorrow, my sisters turn 29 (damn we're old), next week it's Laura's 23rd, then Jeff's 20-somethingth, then Aya on the 30th. And me with no money! Highly embarrassing.
Oh, and a follow-up to the last post - I was editing that safety warning today and it included adding a note: "This procedure may be performed by one person when the need arises." Bwaahahahaha.
Cute kitty. *sigh*
My job is probably over tomorrow, but I got a call from a different temp agency saying they have a whole bunch of legal-type jobs for people with mad typing skillz including, perhaps, your oh-so-humble-narrator.
Got my first paycheck in the mail today. About $200 bucks but then I started in the middle of the week. It's something, but I want more. Money money money money. Preferably enough so that I can buy this, and enough to go to Frisco for Ayako's 23rd. Why does *everyone* have to be born this month? Tomorrow, my sisters turn 29 (damn we're old), next week it's Laura's 23rd, then Jeff's 20-somethingth, then Aya on the 30th. And me with no money! Highly embarrassing.
Oh, and a follow-up to the last post - I was editing that safety warning today and it included adding a note: "This procedure may be performed by one person when the need arises." Bwaahahahaha.
Thursday, July 03, 2003
OMGROFLMAO
My temp job is basically reformatting a whole bunch of safety documents for labs at US Steel, so there's a lot of instructions on how to work with certain factory machines. I was going through one particular document today and noticed it was giving instructions that required a 'top man' and a 'bottom man'. Instantly my mind plunged into the gutter and I began to read every instruction... differently than intended.
I started cracking up at this section (bold text is safety warning):
Check the progress of the bottom person. Do not introduce the charging tube into the charging hole until the bottom person is ready. When the bottom person is ready, place the charging tube into the charging hole. Communicate to the bottom person as to the alignment of the tube and make necessary changes if needed.
Ensure that the bottom person is fully aware that you are inserting the charging tube before doing so.
(...vaguely incindiary instructions about movement and discharging the load into the hole...)
Alert the bottom person before removing the charging tube. Once the bottom person has been properly alerted, remove the charging tube from the charging hole and store it in a safe place.
snickergigglesnort
What can I say, the job is boring. I have to take entertainment where I can find it.
Oh, and the other day a couple of my co-workers caught a glimpse of some doodling I had done while waiting for files to upload. One of them asked why I hadn't gone into Art instead of Design. I began my usual answer, and then burst out laughing in the middle when I realized what I was saying:
"I thought I'd be more likely to get a job if I went into design."
Hoo-ah. That was rich.
I started cracking up at this section (bold text is safety warning):
Check the progress of the bottom person. Do not introduce the charging tube into the charging hole until the bottom person is ready. When the bottom person is ready, place the charging tube into the charging hole. Communicate to the bottom person as to the alignment of the tube and make necessary changes if needed.
Ensure that the bottom person is fully aware that you are inserting the charging tube before doing so.
(...vaguely incindiary instructions about movement and discharging the load into the hole...)
Alert the bottom person before removing the charging tube. Once the bottom person has been properly alerted, remove the charging tube from the charging hole and store it in a safe place.
snickergigglesnort
What can I say, the job is boring. I have to take entertainment where I can find it.
Oh, and the other day a couple of my co-workers caught a glimpse of some doodling I had done while waiting for files to upload. One of them asked why I hadn't gone into Art instead of Design. I began my usual answer, and then burst out laughing in the middle when I realized what I was saying:
"I thought I'd be more likely to get a job if I went into design."
Hoo-ah. That was rich.
Monday, June 30, 2003
Oh! The little deers
I was cruising home through the Friday evening bumper-to-bumper traffic in Monroeville, trying to get on 376, when I spotted two fawns galloping around an island of grass, freaking out as the cars whizzed by less than 10 feet away. It's that kind of thing that reminds me of how girly I can be, or at least my reaction to it. Squealing. Covering my mouth with my hands, giggling "oh my goodness, sooooo cute" and not watching the road.
I'm getting to really enjoy my car. It's a nice escape from work, my own private little bubble of color, light and sound, and I rather like tooling around like a madwoman (although somebody honked their horn at me today when I blew through the intersection in Edgewood as the green left-hand-turn arrow disappeared). Too bad it's a gigantic gas guzzler, and I still can't parallel park (I gave a huge love-tap to the car in front of me trying to park in front of my apartment. I was stuck up on the curb for like 5 minutes before I was able to get out and try again. I was starting to gather a crowd of helpful onlookers. *blush*)
And oh shiznat, I got a voicemail from painter-lady who says she wants to paint that fireplace starting Wednesday morning, and I am still being employed in Monroeville from 8-5. I thought I might ask if I could take half a day off and come in late or something, since I'm doing things faster than they expected, but I hesitate. They seem laid back, but that's a pretty rude thing for a *temp* to do. I suppose I could make up a family emergency or something. I'm just working on a project, not like I'm answering phones or anything. Well, I could always ask, I guess. Feh.
I'm getting to really enjoy my car. It's a nice escape from work, my own private little bubble of color, light and sound, and I rather like tooling around like a madwoman (although somebody honked their horn at me today when I blew through the intersection in Edgewood as the green left-hand-turn arrow disappeared). Too bad it's a gigantic gas guzzler, and I still can't parallel park (I gave a huge love-tap to the car in front of me trying to park in front of my apartment. I was stuck up on the curb for like 5 minutes before I was able to get out and try again. I was starting to gather a crowd of helpful onlookers. *blush*)
And oh shiznat, I got a voicemail from painter-lady who says she wants to paint that fireplace starting Wednesday morning, and I am still being employed in Monroeville from 8-5. I thought I might ask if I could take half a day off and come in late or something, since I'm doing things faster than they expected, but I hesitate. They seem laid back, but that's a pretty rude thing for a *temp* to do. I suppose I could make up a family emergency or something. I'm just working on a project, not like I'm answering phones or anything. Well, I could always ask, I guess. Feh.
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Now with titles
Blogger has a sexy new template, and I figured out how to add titles to my posts. Because user friendliness is my biggest problem here.
I tried to post my religion results but it makes blogger eat itself. I'll sum up. 100% Unitarian Universalist, 96% Neo-Pagan. I got neo-pagan as an answer for emode's religion quiz, too. Need to get me that Book of Shadows.
I've been working in Monroeville starting yesterday on a 2 week assignment. It's kind of fun, fighting with Word makes the hours fly. I'm afraid I'm working too fast and running out of job, tho, and my chair is very loud.
Lovely today. I ate lunch outside on the grass, in the shade of a big tree. Still managed to get sunburned.
Applied for jobs at Lane Bryant, Brookstone and Kauffman's yesterday. Pet store today. So desperate for steady income, but yay for $800 from the current job (minus taxes, but still. Yay).
I am being forced into a non-nocturnal schedule, and it hurts. Badly. Coffee is now a requirement.
I tried to post my religion results but it makes blogger eat itself. I'll sum up. 100% Unitarian Universalist, 96% Neo-Pagan. I got neo-pagan as an answer for emode's religion quiz, too. Need to get me that Book of Shadows.
I've been working in Monroeville starting yesterday on a 2 week assignment. It's kind of fun, fighting with Word makes the hours fly. I'm afraid I'm working too fast and running out of job, tho, and my chair is very loud.
Lovely today. I ate lunch outside on the grass, in the shade of a big tree. Still managed to get sunburned.
Applied for jobs at Lane Bryant, Brookstone and Kauffman's yesterday. Pet store today. So desperate for steady income, but yay for $800 from the current job (minus taxes, but still. Yay).
I am being forced into a non-nocturnal schedule, and it hurts. Badly. Coffee is now a requirement.
Monday, June 23, 2003
Just finished reading Order of the Phoenix. B&N called this afternoon to say that it was in, so I picked it up, started reading around 4 or 5 pm and just finished, 12 hours later (870 pages). I took a few bathroom/snack/meal breaks so it wasn't quite straight through, but close enough.
Wow. Just... wow. It's a lot to take in. I had the fleeting thought that I should read it again, since so much happened, and then realized what I was thinking and laughed at myself.
Perhaps at a slightly more... sedate pace.
Whew.
Wow. Just... wow. It's a lot to take in. I had the fleeting thought that I should read it again, since so much happened, and then realized what I was thinking and laughed at myself.
Perhaps at a slightly more... sedate pace.
Whew.
Saturday, June 21, 2003
Just got back from Geagling with a bag of baked Doritos (so happy). Pulled out a cheesewad - there may be some chip in there, but it mainly looks like a giant wad-o-powder cheese. Kind of like that giant Cheeto that was making all the headlines. Not quite so impressive, though.
It reminds me of the Fried Fried Fried that Ayako found in our O-Fries one time. It was just this ball of.... fried. Fried what? We didn't know. I said it could be a cockroach, or a piece of rat, or something, but Ayako ate it. I couldn't believe it. I watched in shock as she crunched on the Fried Fried Fried. You could *hear* the grease.
She left me a voicemail this morning. A rather irate voicemail, wondering why the hell I hadn't returned her calls for the past 2 weeks, and if there was something wrong with me or if I suddenly began hating her for some reason.
I get that a lot. I have some sort of lesion on the part of my brain that most people use to remember names, birthdays, and to call people back. I do it to everybody. EVERYBODY. There is no rhyme or reason.
**half an hour later**
Just talked to Ayako, and we got on the topic of men (of course). I remembered the link I had once shown her of Valerie Solanas' (she shot Andy Warhol) SCUM Manifesto, which I think I got from my friend Amy, the uber-feminist cheerleader (yay). I dedicate this one to all the ladies out there who keep complaining that all men are penile-minded shallow assholes who are incapable of feeling human emotion, and wondering where the hell all the decent guys are. Apparently, it's due to the fact that "The male is a biological accident: the Y (male) gene is an incomplete X (female) gene, that is, it has an incomplete set of chromosomes. In other words, the male is an incomplete female, a walking abortion, aborted at the gene stage. To be male is to be deficient, emotionally limited; maleness is a deficiency disease and males are emotional cripples."
The fact that I am currently hormonal has nothing to do with me enjoying this manifesto so much. Grrr. (And no, I don't take this seriously, nor do I believe most women do. It's fun to read, though.)
Didn't make it to the Harry Potter party last night, as Laura fell asleep (and I thought it rude to awaken her for something she's not interested in, anyway). I went there this afternoon and they are, of course, sold out (they would have been last night, too, I didn't think to reserve one) so I'm on the waiting list and should expect a call on Monday. In the meantime, I'll be trying to dodge spoilers. Cry.
It reminds me of the Fried Fried Fried that Ayako found in our O-Fries one time. It was just this ball of.... fried. Fried what? We didn't know. I said it could be a cockroach, or a piece of rat, or something, but Ayako ate it. I couldn't believe it. I watched in shock as she crunched on the Fried Fried Fried. You could *hear* the grease.
She left me a voicemail this morning. A rather irate voicemail, wondering why the hell I hadn't returned her calls for the past 2 weeks, and if there was something wrong with me or if I suddenly began hating her for some reason.
I get that a lot. I have some sort of lesion on the part of my brain that most people use to remember names, birthdays, and to call people back. I do it to everybody. EVERYBODY. There is no rhyme or reason.
**half an hour later**
Just talked to Ayako, and we got on the topic of men (of course). I remembered the link I had once shown her of Valerie Solanas' (she shot Andy Warhol) SCUM Manifesto, which I think I got from my friend Amy, the uber-feminist cheerleader (yay). I dedicate this one to all the ladies out there who keep complaining that all men are penile-minded shallow assholes who are incapable of feeling human emotion, and wondering where the hell all the decent guys are. Apparently, it's due to the fact that "The male is a biological accident: the Y (male) gene is an incomplete X (female) gene, that is, it has an incomplete set of chromosomes. In other words, the male is an incomplete female, a walking abortion, aborted at the gene stage. To be male is to be deficient, emotionally limited; maleness is a deficiency disease and males are emotional cripples."
The fact that I am currently hormonal has nothing to do with me enjoying this manifesto so much. Grrr. (And no, I don't take this seriously, nor do I believe most women do. It's fun to read, though.)
Didn't make it to the Harry Potter party last night, as Laura fell asleep (and I thought it rude to awaken her for something she's not interested in, anyway). I went there this afternoon and they are, of course, sold out (they would have been last night, too, I didn't think to reserve one) so I'm on the waiting list and should expect a call on Monday. In the meantime, I'll be trying to dodge spoilers. Cry.
Friday, June 20, 2003
Met with Lynn Smith, muralist extraordinaire today. She said she'd be willing to try to work with me on an upcoming project - marbelizing a very large fireplace in July. She also recommended that I e-mail the editor of the post gazette home section about an article he's doing on Pittsburgh muralists, to find more jobs.
Before I shot off the e-mail, though, I updated my portfolio page. I was full of boundless energy while coding so it went quickly. After a while I realized that I was so hyper because all I'd had to eat today was a Frappucino. Whee!
Laura and I just finished rearranging the kitchen, culminating in a Friday night dish exodus from our respective bedrooms. We're thinking of making it a competition - whoever has more dishes during the Friday Night Dish Exodus has to load the dishwasher.
And I'm reconsidering Jeff's idea to put at least one of our computers in the main room, since we're both bedroom hermits. Maybe once we have furniture, we'll be more apt to spend time out there.
#spastic# 3.5 more hours till Harry Potter. #/spastic#
Before I shot off the e-mail, though, I updated my portfolio page. I was full of boundless energy while coding so it went quickly. After a while I realized that I was so hyper because all I'd had to eat today was a Frappucino. Whee!
Laura and I just finished rearranging the kitchen, culminating in a Friday night dish exodus from our respective bedrooms. We're thinking of making it a competition - whoever has more dishes during the Friday Night Dish Exodus has to load the dishwasher.
And I'm reconsidering Jeff's idea to put at least one of our computers in the main room, since we're both bedroom hermits. Maybe once we have furniture, we'll be more apt to spend time out there.
#spastic# 3.5 more hours till Harry Potter. #/spastic#
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Wh00t.
What's up frigidaire. You are
16%
pickup-able! You're cold and unapproachable, like a big glacier that's unapproachable. And cold. Unlike the Arctic tundra, few even venture to plant their flag in you. You're definitely not a Scorpio, unless you were born between October 23 and November 21. The bad news is that you'll end up miserable and alone, probably knitting doilies out of cat hair. The good news is that this is apparently what you want. Honestly, I don't even feel comfortable talking to you right now, so I'm just gonna go… yeah… wash my friend's hair.
people more pickup-able than you (99%)
people just as pickup-able as you (0%)
people less pickup-able than you (0%)
Based on the 1,150,058 submissions before you.
Hells yeah. Now if only my friends could master my arctic frigidity, I wouldn't have to keep consoling them when they get molested. (j/k)
What's up frigidaire. You are
16%
pickup-able! You're cold and unapproachable, like a big glacier that's unapproachable. And cold. Unlike the Arctic tundra, few even venture to plant their flag in you. You're definitely not a Scorpio, unless you were born between October 23 and November 21. The bad news is that you'll end up miserable and alone, probably knitting doilies out of cat hair. The good news is that this is apparently what you want. Honestly, I don't even feel comfortable talking to you right now, so I'm just gonna go… yeah… wash my friend's hair.
people more pickup-able than you (99%)
people just as pickup-able as you (0%)
people less pickup-able than you (0%)
Based on the 1,150,058 submissions before you.
Hells yeah. Now if only my friends could master my arctic frigidity, I wouldn't have to keep consoling them when they get molested. (j/k)
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