(no subject)
*wave* hi blog world! Clawed the very bored here. Clawed the fairly well-paid, but Clawed the bored nonetheless. *hates getting up in the morning* Why can't I land a nice stay-at-home job? (the first person who mentions being a stay-at-home mom will be shot, strangled, fed his own internal organs, then impaled on a spike and left for the vultures.)
On the subject of stay-at-home jobs, Finch and I had a talk about jobs and he told me that he wasn't too thrilled with his job either - he just didn't think he could get anything better. But he's going to look into other things (starting with a sunday paper and temp agencies) and so that problem should be getting better.
I'm now full-time at my job (yay!) and got a raise (yay!) making this the most well-paying job I've had. I still spend most of my day filing, but at least I'm well-compensated. I do wish I could listen to my ipod, though - when I'm not filing, I do data entry, and that gets really dull without an ipod. TPTB, though, have a no music devices rule (which I can understand for 99% of the employees here - they have to answer calls and deal with insured/producers/customers - I work for an insurance company, BTW - so they can't be plugged into music. But I'm the 1% exception... I sit in my cubicle with nobody who's relying on talking to me, so I wouldn't be hindered by an ipod, damnit!! In a month I may start begging for it) so I sit at my desk/cubicle with nothing but notepad and ranting to you, dear reader, to distract me. (There's a no internet rule too. I'd be tempted to break that rule if my monitor didn't face towards the open cubicle doorway.) I haven't yet properly figured out how to post these posts without getting detected, but it's only a matter of time.
I think I'm going to start cross-posting to my LJ. A lot of my friends have LJs exclusively now, and I don't know how many of them (you?) keep up with the blog. Besides, the comment system is better, and my entetation comment boxes have been largely broken for some time now. They still *kinda* work, but... it seems like the blogger comment services just stop working after a while. Now, I won't abandon the blog - I still like it better than LJ - but it doesn't hurt to drop a post on the journal too. (sides, I've started to get >.> looks from some of the communities I frequent because my LJ is empty. I think I'll fix that. If I'm feeling rich I may even buy an LJ account so that I can put up a custom layout. Maybe. Depends on how easy the cross-posting works.)
Almost have all the boxes unpacked into our new place now. Yesterday afternoon I finally got Finch to help me with the massive pile in the spare bedroom (most of it was his), and that's really cleared up a lot. If I can do another hour of work in there, I should be able to get it pretty much completely cleaned up. That would be a definite improvement in my mood - not having that hanging over my head and bothering me would, I think, distinctly help me relax at the end of the day. It's just one of those things with me. It is interesting, trying to put things up in the spare bedroom - not only is it storage space for our spare stuff, it's also going to be Tweety's bedroom when she moves in, so it has to be catproof. I really want to try out softpaws on her - she's so bad with clawing at things like the furniture and carpets that I'm afraid if something like that doesn't work, I'll have to have her declawed. She ruins carpets by clawing at the edges, and not one single thing I've tried has worked to save my black chairs. Discipline doesn't work, spraying her with water doesn't work, no-scratch formulas on the chairs don't work (or the carpet either). Covering them with a blanket or a rug does work, but once she gets the blanket off/rug moved, she's right back at it. She's almost completely ruined the carpet in her bedroom at Finch's mother's house, and I'm hoping very much that she doesn't demand we replace it. I know declawing is cruel and unusual punishment for a cat, but if the destruction doesn't stop, it's that or nothing - we can't have her destroying rental property. (Yes, I've tried trimming her claws - unless we do it about every three days, it doesn't work. She'll spend *hours* sharpening her newly shortened claws back into spikes. And I can't make her stay still to let me or finch trim them - so far, only a groomer has been able to do it).
If anyone has any other suggestions, let me know. I'm just about at my wits end with her. I love my kitty, but I also love not getting massive repair bills from my apartment complex.
^^ Finch's solution is to let her grow out of it, and to put something like cheesecloth (which would, he thinks, catch her claws and make her uncomfortable) on the chairs when we're not using them. I object on the grounds that I a)think it would look really, really tacky, and b) not work - she'd just drag the cheesecloth off, thinking it was something to play with. It's a solution akin to his idea of stapling nonskid stuff to the stairs at the old complex - it *sorta* worked for about one day, but the staples didn't staple completely, the stuff slid right off, and I spent all my time stepping on staples. And it looked ridiculous. Really, really ridiculous.
*yawn* but I digress. as usual in my blog posts in the last few years. I used to pass along odd links, or quizes (though I still do those), or information on events, but... *shrug* I guess I have other priorities now.
Oh, and to my dimwitted coworkers who were complaining the other day about going from a size 00 to a size 2 and now you're all depressed? DIAF. Please. Now. "OMG I'm like a size 2!!! now and I'm so fat! and my boyfriend said I was fat! in front of people at a buffet the other day and OMG!!! I can't believe it in high school I was a size 00 and now I try on those jeans and they like DON'T FIT! I like CANNOT believe it!!!!!111!11!1oneeleventy" Yeah, that makes me want to sit on you with my size 14 ass and grind your little empty-headed face into the carpet for a while. A size 2 is not anybody's definition of fat. In fact, unless you're under five feet tall, a size 8 or 10 is not anybody's definition of fat. (Using actual size references there - a friend of mine is 4'9" and overweight at a size 6-8. But she's a rare case. And falls under the 'under-five-feet-tall' thing.). You, oh coworker? You are about 5'4". Painfully ordinary. And nobody, not even your boyfriend, cares if you've 'ballooned' from a size 00 to a 2. In fact, you are probably more attractive (and healthier) at a 2 due to the fact that you barely have a waist, ass, or boobs and if you were any skinnier you could be without those features entirely. Really. Ask a guy if they prefer someone who can be called "skinny" or someone who can be called "lush". (Hint - most guys, at least the ones I've encountered, go for 'lush'.)
Besides, one of the women... girls... you were complaining to? was giving you death glares. Why? because she (who you kept identifying at a friend) was *actually* overweight and I saw a weight-watchers calorie guide pinned to her cubicle, as well as a meeting flyer. My guess is that she would have liked to join me in ass-grinding your face and show you just *exactly* the difference between size 2 and overweight - and just how difficult it is a) come to terms with being large, and b) do something about it (if you're so inclined. To all the people out there who are large and enjoy it - I wish you many cookies of your favorite variety.)
Oh, and the same goes for the actresses... extras... that were giving one of my friends (female, slightly large) the look of "What girl lets herself look like THAT". The next time (not that I think I'll EVER see you again, thank goodness) that you do that I'm going to tell her. Then you'll realize, as she shreds your size-4 figure, that she's not fat one little bit. She... well, she really could rip someone to pieces if she wanted to. Think "brick wall". Yes, she's twice your size. No, that's not a good thing (for you:) ).
On the subject of stay-at-home jobs, Finch and I had a talk about jobs and he told me that he wasn't too thrilled with his job either - he just didn't think he could get anything better. But he's going to look into other things (starting with a sunday paper and temp agencies) and so that problem should be getting better.
I'm now full-time at my job (yay!) and got a raise (yay!) making this the most well-paying job I've had. I still spend most of my day filing, but at least I'm well-compensated. I do wish I could listen to my ipod, though - when I'm not filing, I do data entry, and that gets really dull without an ipod. TPTB, though, have a no music devices rule (which I can understand for 99% of the employees here - they have to answer calls and deal with insured/producers/customers - I work for an insurance company, BTW - so they can't be plugged into music. But I'm the 1% exception... I sit in my cubicle with nobody who's relying on talking to me, so I wouldn't be hindered by an ipod, damnit!! In a month I may start begging for it) so I sit at my desk/cubicle with nothing but notepad and ranting to you, dear reader, to distract me. (There's a no internet rule too. I'd be tempted to break that rule if my monitor didn't face towards the open cubicle doorway.) I haven't yet properly figured out how to post these posts without getting detected, but it's only a matter of time.
I think I'm going to start cross-posting to my LJ. A lot of my friends have LJs exclusively now, and I don't know how many of them (you?) keep up with the blog. Besides, the comment system is better, and my entetation comment boxes have been largely broken for some time now. They still *kinda* work, but... it seems like the blogger comment services just stop working after a while. Now, I won't abandon the blog - I still like it better than LJ - but it doesn't hurt to drop a post on the journal too. (sides, I've started to get >.> looks from some of the communities I frequent because my LJ is empty. I think I'll fix that. If I'm feeling rich I may even buy an LJ account so that I can put up a custom layout. Maybe. Depends on how easy the cross-posting works.)
Almost have all the boxes unpacked into our new place now. Yesterday afternoon I finally got Finch to help me with the massive pile in the spare bedroom (most of it was his), and that's really cleared up a lot. If I can do another hour of work in there, I should be able to get it pretty much completely cleaned up. That would be a definite improvement in my mood - not having that hanging over my head and bothering me would, I think, distinctly help me relax at the end of the day. It's just one of those things with me. It is interesting, trying to put things up in the spare bedroom - not only is it storage space for our spare stuff, it's also going to be Tweety's bedroom when she moves in, so it has to be catproof. I really want to try out softpaws on her - she's so bad with clawing at things like the furniture and carpets that I'm afraid if something like that doesn't work, I'll have to have her declawed. She ruins carpets by clawing at the edges, and not one single thing I've tried has worked to save my black chairs. Discipline doesn't work, spraying her with water doesn't work, no-scratch formulas on the chairs don't work (or the carpet either). Covering them with a blanket or a rug does work, but once she gets the blanket off/rug moved, she's right back at it. She's almost completely ruined the carpet in her bedroom at Finch's mother's house, and I'm hoping very much that she doesn't demand we replace it. I know declawing is cruel and unusual punishment for a cat, but if the destruction doesn't stop, it's that or nothing - we can't have her destroying rental property. (Yes, I've tried trimming her claws - unless we do it about every three days, it doesn't work. She'll spend *hours* sharpening her newly shortened claws back into spikes. And I can't make her stay still to let me or finch trim them - so far, only a groomer has been able to do it).
If anyone has any other suggestions, let me know. I'm just about at my wits end with her. I love my kitty, but I also love not getting massive repair bills from my apartment complex.
^^ Finch's solution is to let her grow out of it, and to put something like cheesecloth (which would, he thinks, catch her claws and make her uncomfortable) on the chairs when we're not using them. I object on the grounds that I a)think it would look really, really tacky, and b) not work - she'd just drag the cheesecloth off, thinking it was something to play with. It's a solution akin to his idea of stapling nonskid stuff to the stairs at the old complex - it *sorta* worked for about one day, but the staples didn't staple completely, the stuff slid right off, and I spent all my time stepping on staples. And it looked ridiculous. Really, really ridiculous.
*yawn* but I digress. as usual in my blog posts in the last few years. I used to pass along odd links, or quizes (though I still do those), or information on events, but... *shrug* I guess I have other priorities now.
Oh, and to my dimwitted coworkers who were complaining the other day about going from a size 00 to a size 2 and now you're all depressed? DIAF. Please. Now. "OMG I'm like a size 2!!! now and I'm so fat! and my boyfriend said I was fat! in front of people at a buffet the other day and OMG!!! I can't believe it in high school I was a size 00 and now I try on those jeans and they like DON'T FIT! I like CANNOT believe it!!!!!111!11!1oneeleventy" Yeah, that makes me want to sit on you with my size 14 ass and grind your little empty-headed face into the carpet for a while. A size 2 is not anybody's definition of fat. In fact, unless you're under five feet tall, a size 8 or 10 is not anybody's definition of fat. (Using actual size references there - a friend of mine is 4'9" and overweight at a size 6-8. But she's a rare case. And falls under the 'under-five-feet-tall' thing.). You, oh coworker? You are about 5'4". Painfully ordinary. And nobody, not even your boyfriend, cares if you've 'ballooned' from a size 00 to a 2. In fact, you are probably more attractive (and healthier) at a 2 due to the fact that you barely have a waist, ass, or boobs and if you were any skinnier you could be without those features entirely. Really. Ask a guy if they prefer someone who can be called "skinny" or someone who can be called "lush". (Hint - most guys, at least the ones I've encountered, go for 'lush'.)
Besides, one of the women... girls... you were complaining to? was giving you death glares. Why? because she (who you kept identifying at a friend) was *actually* overweight and I saw a weight-watchers calorie guide pinned to her cubicle, as well as a meeting flyer. My guess is that she would have liked to join me in ass-grinding your face and show you just *exactly* the difference between size 2 and overweight - and just how difficult it is a) come to terms with being large, and b) do something about it (if you're so inclined. To all the people out there who are large and enjoy it - I wish you many cookies of your favorite variety.)
Oh, and the same goes for the actresses... extras... that were giving one of my friends (female, slightly large) the look of "What girl lets herself look like THAT". The next time (not that I think I'll EVER see you again, thank goodness) that you do that I'm going to tell her. Then you'll realize, as she shreds your size-4 figure, that she's not fat one little bit. She... well, she really could rip someone to pieces if she wanted to. Think "brick wall". Yes, she's twice your size. No, that's not a good thing (for you:) ).