Thursday, July 30, 2009

Dear Charlie:

Well, today was the last day at the new office. It was harder than I thought it'd be. These people have been really good to me for no other reason than that I'm apparently amusing and am always willing to work hard and go the extra mile. I'm not used to being treated well because of that.

Usually, it just gives me more stuff to do.

Anyway, these folks are great, and they really don't want me to leave, and, honestly, if not for the Powers That Be continually sending me back to the old office all the time, I'd have stayed there a good long while. I just can't do it anymore. That old office just sucks the life out of me.

And I "get" to spend my last day there. I probably could've gotten out of it, but I still like some of those people, and there's one more basic thing I need to teach the new lady, so I'll give them one more day.

Nothing new on the job front. I've been too busy refurbishing and working to put in more than a few applications and call a few places, so that'll be my top priority starting Monday. While I could use a good, long vacation, I can't afford one any more than anyone else can, so hopefully, something will come up quick.

And, unfortunately, I haven't heard anything about my friend. We've pretty much been focused on the yearly certification audit at work, but I'll be asking around at the old office tomorrow to see if anyone has heard anything positive. I'm hoping.

And praying.

It just seems wrong to me that at the same time my life options are flying wide open, someone else's are narrowed to a knife's edge.

But anyway.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Heart-breaking Update:

I don't cry often or particularly well, but I've been on slow leak most of the afternoon. Why, you ask?

Just found out one of my very good friends at work -- yes, I have several, and I will miss them when I'm gone -- who has been battling cancer for more than the three years I've known him was diagnosed as terminal yesterday.

It breaks my heart. I have long admired the wells of strength he keeps dredging up to fight surgeries and radiation therapies and chemotherapies. He fights because he's a good man. He fights because he loves his wife and kids more than anything in the world. He fights because he can't not fight.

Yes, he'll fight this, and if anyone can beat that terminal diagnosis, it's him. But it still breaks my heart.

This is the guy that I never fear to talk politics with, even though we don't always agree. He's intelligent and capable of remaining rational while debating. I cannot tell you how rare that quality is.

This is the guy I talk football with because he's in as deep a pit of loyalty over my beloved Chiefs as I am. We're so hopeful for this season, now that we have a new GM and head coach.

Oh, damn. There I go again. Gimme a minute.

This is the guy I always make sure to sit by at company parties because we have such similar senses of humor. We laugh at a lot of the same jokes, but we're also capable of appreciating each other's wry wit without having to laugh to prove we get it.

This is the guy who understands why I don't want kids or a husband but doesn't make me roll my eyes when he talks about his own because he genuinely loves his family and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. When he tells me that his kids are the joy of his life, I believe him.

This is the guy who, when he thought my birthday might be forgotten (and you'd better believe I was doing everything in my power to make sure it STAYED forgotten), took money out of his own pocket to buy me a card in which he wrote me a very long and lovely note, a neck massager in hopes of helping with the migraine I'd been suffering for three days already, and a handful of other thoughtful little knicknacks he thought I would like. Just to make sure I knew I was appreciated. Just to be a good friend.

Crap. Again with the waterworks.

And I can't do a damn thing for him, and it's killing me. My "problems" are worth a fart in the wind. If I could take this burden for him, I'd trade in a heartbeat. I know God isn't into bargains, but I'm not so good a person that I'm not trying.

So, I guess it comes to this: Chris, you're a good man, a good father, a good husband, and a good friend. I love you, man, and I'll be praying for you every step of the way. I hope with everything in me that you kick the shit out of this mess and have the long, full, happy life you deserve.

Bless your heart.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Dear Charlie:

Dude, think me and Dad set a record today. The master bedroom is now completely finished.

We moved everything but the bed out (shoved it to the middle of the room) first. Then I scraped the last two walls while Dad picked up bricks outside (don't ask), then Dad spackled while I swept the carpet (what?), then I swiped off the woodwork while Dad sanded.

Then, it was time to paint. I stirred the paint FOREVER while Dad taped. I'm so not kidding. That paint had been sitting for a good year, and it was all sorts of messed up. Anyway, then Dad finished up a little more spackling while I started painting around the taped woodwork.

Yeah, he totally beat me with his whole roller rig, but it looks AWESOME. I was so tired of seeing puttied drywall in there. Now it's all sorts of gorgeous. And I got rid of a whole bag of clothes to take to Goodwill, so I don't feel all selfish for being excited with my awesome sauce bedroom.

Then we had to re-clean the dining room, though. We'd moved all the dusty crap out to the dining room, where I cleaned it all before putting it back. DUST. There is DUST in my house. Good Lord, there is DUST.

Taking over the world kind of DUST.

But I kicked its ass, and Dad sucked it all up in his water vacuum thingy, and now the whole front 2/3 of the house is totally done.

While I was going through clothes and taking the ol' Pledge to the bedroom furniture, Dad took on the utility room. It is now practically empty. It hasn't been practically empty since I've lived here. It's awesome. That's actually a pretty good sized room.

So, I'll have to sort through the kitchen this week (and paint some cabinets, which I'm sort of looking forward to) and maybe pry up the bathroom linoleum tiles. They work great in the kitchen, but they're HORRIBLE in the bathroom. I'm taking them up. You can't stop me.

Then? Well, I think then, we'll be ready to put this Betty on the market and get rid of her.

...

My poor house. I'm going to miss it so. It's ironic that I'm finally getting it just the way I wanted it...in time to sell it to someone else. Guh.

But I'm putting my foot down. Tired of being broke all the time. I WILL downsize.

I so swear.

...

That whimpering you hear? Ignore it. Totally allergies from all the DUST.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Dear Charlie:

God, this is SO cracking me up.

Here's the premise: take one seriously FUBAR-ed video, state what's literally happening on the screen, and sing that description along the lines of the original melody. Mix and half-bake, and you got ninja football players, Fonzie clones, and feelin'-up featherheads.

Good grief.

Equally hilarious is this riff on MeatLoaf. Dude. Seriously. Give the poor guy back his necklace, and quit interrupting Herbal Essenses commercials.

Some people have WAY too much time on their hands, but what would we do without them? I mean, c'mon. If I had the time and the required equipment?

Yeah. I'd be doing nothing but. I've already thought of like five videos I'd love to get my hands on. Heh.

Okay. Enough goofing around. Back to housework. Guh.

One more thing: spider solitaire is the devil. I'm just sayin. Here I have sixty million and one things to do, and yet I just blew a good hour and a half playing spider solitaire while I was supposedly pausing for lunch.

Sure. I ate for like ten minutes.

All I can say is thank God it wsn't Free Cell. I could play that game for DAYS. Or mahjong. Or sudoku.

Dammit.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Dear Charlie:

*sheepish*

Okay, so I haven't posted nearly as much since I hopped on Twitter. I figured I wouldn't use my Twitter account much, and yet here I am, dropping a line or two over there almost every day and not bothering to update the ol' blog that's been so faithful for so many years.

I'm such a jerk. But at least I totally updated my Chiefs scoreboard. I didn't want anyone to think I was ashamed of that 2-14 final tally, so I left it up longer than usual, but I think July is plenty time to get the new schedule up. I've always found that with a new schedule comes new hope.

Yup. I'm a Chiefs fan. My motto is "There's always next year". Oi.

Anyway, lots of stuff going on, but I feel like time's getting away from me. I'm trying to do two things at once -- get another job and get my house ready for sale -- in a murderously short period of time, and oh, how the time is flying. That's great for at work, where the days are literally skimming by as I try to get everything done that I need to (though I know that's impossible), but not so great at home.

Dude. Seriously. Eight years worth of crap to sort through and throw away. Good God.

Plus, I'm totally on the writing jones at the moment, so while I'm sorting, I'm actually thinking of other stuff, and I'm pretty sure I've thrown away more than I intended to. Yeah, I need this to be a purge of sorts, but with a plot in mind? I might as well just set a match to my stuff. Heheh.

But I have managed to write over lunches, and that's saved me a bit. So I guess I'm trying to do three things at once in a murderously short period of time. Call me multi-talented. Heheh.

Anyway.

So I want to share a little conversation I had with a friend at work. A lot of people are actually being really cool about wanting me to stay. It's kinda giving me the warm fuzzies.

However, most are finally convinced that I'm serious about leaving, so they're trying to minimize the going by trying to find me jobs close by. The LPN at the office thus went on the career website of the hospital we're affiliated with and started reading job descriptions.

She hollered in from her office: "Molly? Are you bilingual?"

I hollered back: "I can cuss in seven languages. Does that count?"

"...I don't think so."

I went back to work, figuring that was that, but like a bare minute later, she hollered back in: "Hey, they have a listing for a chaplain! Could you be a chaplain?"

I paused a moment, then hollered back: "I just said I can cuss in seven languages!"

There was much laughing. Good times.

Yeah, I totally told that story on Twitter, but it took two posts there and I couldn't really ham it up like over here. Pros and cons, folks. Pros and cons.

Anyway, so I'm looking for other things -- trying to get out of office work, honestly -- and we'll see how it goes. Until then, back to the cleaning grindstone. Guh.

I have mentioned that I'm a lousy housekeeper, right?

Double guh.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Dear Charlie:

You know, I've been promising myself this for a long time. Since I finally broke down and put in my notice at work today, I figure I could use a little hilarity on the day.

Heh.

Remember when Pesh and I were talking about how awesome Hellboy 2: The Golden Army is and got to giggling about the idea of Prince Nuada trying to survive the "real" world?

Yeah. There's more. And I'm totally putting the saga in the sidebar and...who knows? I'll probably even add to it as time passes. It's too much fun not to.

Anyway, I was grousing about work (see a theme, here?) and made a comment, and Pesh responded, and it was all over but the crying.

So, without further ado, here is Chapter 1 (or maybe Chapters 1 and 2) of The Office Mercenary 2: The Golden Letter Opener.

Pesh, I blame you. Because I can. And you're totally bolded again.



You really need to go Office Mercenary on her and have Prince Nuada replace her. Can you imagine him trying to work with the kids?

Yes. Yes, I can. D*mmit.

Oh, the maiming there would be, and I'm not necessarily talking about the kids.

Considering he's fully capable of both patricide and...well, the female equivalent of fratricide, I'm pretty sure it'd be both parents AND kids getting the elfshot spearhead. *snerk*

Kid: Waaah! Mom wouldn't let me have a whole bag of cookies just before dinner, so I destroyed the house!

Nuada: *breathshudders*

Mom: You ate a whole bag of chips for lunch and a bag of chocolate chips not an hour later.

Nuada: You allowed him to do this? To desecrate his digestive tract in this fashion?

Mom: *shrugs* Can't stop him. He'll throw a fit and kick holes in the walls if I don't let him do what he wants.

Nuada: *pulls spear* You are the queen of this place. Your word is law.

Kid: I won't listen to her! I won't listen to you! *kicks*

Nuada: *chops off foot*

Kid: WAAAAAAAAAAH! HE WON'T LET ME HAVE MY FOOT!

Nuada: *stabs*

Mom: Hey! Now he's gonna be madder than ever! My ears will go numb from his screaming! I'll call DMH on you!

Nuada: *stabs her, too*

Mom: Noooo! Now I can't get him his whole tub of ice cream for dessert! He'll be REALLY annoying, now!

Nuada: *slaughters until the walls are red*... *breathshudders*... *leaves*

And the fic begins to congeal... *wrings hands and dies laughing*

Wretched woman! *dies*

You love it and you know it.

There's such a thing as too much fun!

Not when it comes to writing!

Yeah-huh! Writing THAT is the bad kind of fun. *wibbles*

Naaaah! You're in denial.

*shuddersighs*

*delights*

Nuada: *gets back to the office*

Hellboy Boss: Uh, Elfboy?

Nuada: Leave me be.

HB: Can't do that, bucko. I see you've still got your spear strapped across your back.

Nuada: *shuddersigh* It goes where I go.

HB: Nuada, you can't take your spear on client visits anymore. I told you that.

Nuada: I go nowhere unarmed.

HB: Lemme see it.

Nuada: No.

HB: Don't make me pull rank, Elfboy. Gimme.

Nuada: *reluctantly gives it*

HB: ...Why is there blood on it?

Nuada: ...I have made the world a better place.

HB: *rolls eyes* You can't kill clients! How many times do I have to tell you! When I let you out of the mailroom, I told you you had to stop!

Nuada: *shuddersigh* I can't stop. I can never stop. You must kill me.

HB: Oh, God, not this again.

Nuada: *shuddersigh*

HB: Are you having a seizure?

Nuada: *shuddersigh* No. Return my weapon, demon, and leave me be.

HB: *grumbles and returns*

Nuada: I can never stop.

HB: Oh, shut up and write your notes. If you don't have them to Liz by 3:00, she'll burn the place down in a fury.

Nuada: As you wish.

HB: For the love of--

Nuada: *shuddersigh*



EDITED TO ADD: Oh, yeah. And here's a little Hellboy bug action for ya. Pesh kept requesting a Nuada bug, but I never got around to it. Maybe I will sometime.



Ain't he cute? I had SUCH a good time using the mantis eyes as his sawed-offs!

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Dear Charlie:

Have you ever played the Nightmare Casting game? Pesh and I do it all the time. It's loads of fun.

Just take your current favorite non-movie thing and pretend that FOX got ahold of it. Instant mental horror on a legendary scale. We did it for the DragonBall movie, and it's a toss-up which was worse: our picks or FOX's.

*sigh*

Anyway, the real irony is that we usually start with dream casting. You know what I mean. You're reading a book -- say...the Night Angel Trilogy, just for reference -- and you realize that this particular actor would make a better than decent Durzo Blint.

It's not that you think the Night Angel Trilogy would make such a mighty fine movie. Hell, I hope they never movie it because Hollywood tends to strip away everything about a book that makes it great (with rare exceptions like The Mist).

But still...if they were going to make a movie anyway....

So I was watching Hellboy II: The Golden Army again last night -- the forest god's death scene gets me every time -- and I got to thinking that Luke Goss (Pesh's imaginary love-bunny) would make a decent Durzo Blint. He has the speed and flexibility to play a wetboy, could manage the sarcasm necessary, and has good dramatic range.

So I mentioned it to Pesh today over e-mail. And then we played the Nightmare Casting game.

Heh. Here goes. WARNING: this probably won't be funny for anyone who hasn't read the books. And if you haven't read the books, shame on you. I'm seriously.



Pesh: Shoot, the movie would write itself. There's no need for a script. Especially when FOX casts Dwayne Johnson to play Kylar (from Guild Rat Azoth up). He can just run around killing things and raising an eyebrow.

Me: And they'd cast Sean William Scott (AKA Stiffler) in blackface as Jarl, and he'll run around shouting "Kakaw! Kakaw! K-k-k-kakaw!" while the Paris Hilton Elene says, "That's hot" and Bette Midler plays Momma K. *cries*

Wah! Now I can't turn it off!

And Hayden Christiansen as Logan. And John Goodman as Agon. And Brittany Spears as Jenine. And Sharon Stone as Ariel with Kathy Bates as Istarel. *cries more* And Lindsay Lohan as Vi! Noooooo!

Make it stop! Make it stop!

And Jason Statham as Dorian and Ron Perlman as Solon and Danny DeVito as Fier Cousat. And Thomas Jane as Lantano Garuwashi. And Paul Reubens as Garoth Ursuul. *winces* Or maybe Ben Stiller.

Pesh: Here I would have expected DeVito to play Momma K. Shows how much I know. *dies a little inside*

Me: NOOOOOOOO!!! And Justin Chatwin as Count Drake!

Pesh: *eyetwitch* You did NOT just go there.

Me: *weeps* I didn't want to! It just popped in there! *soul shrivels*

Pesh: *lops off an arm for the distraction*

Me: *can now play Kylar from the end of book 2 to a quarter through book 3*

Pesh: I'm on it! *spurts*

Me: Heh, you get to fight Thomas Jane in front of Ezra's Wood!

And Jackie Chan as the Wolf. Or Owen Wilson. Or both.

Pesh: Owen Wilson would be the Beast. Or Kaede.

Me: *cringes at image of Owen Wilson and Ron Perlman gettin it on*

Kim Bassinger (sp?) as Kaldrosa. *chokes* And David Duchovney as Tomman. And Alan Rickman as the ferali. No, as Gnasher. My bad.

Pesh: *dies a little more*

Me: Tom Cruise as Fin.

Pesh: Yes! *envisions Alan Rickman pulling Tom Cruise in half* Ah, good times...

Me: Amen, sister. Sometimes even Nightmare Casting yields gold. Now, who should we pick for Rat and Neph Dada? Hmmmm....

Well, I'd say Michael Jackson for rat, but that's kinda gone by the wayside. So I guess he could play Neph Dada. Just, ya know, prop up the corpse.

Pesh: It would be apt.

Me: I'd pick Janet Jackson to play Khali, but I'd be afraid of a wardrobe malfunction. Although I think Justin Timberlake would make an excellent Terah Graesin.

Pesh: Hmmmm, I almost said Justin would fit better as Khali, but I've decided that the Cajun guy from those political shows would be much better.

Me: Ha! But we still don't have a Rat/Roth.

Pesh: Chunk. Minus his conscience.

Me: Heh, I wonder if we could talk him into doing the Truffle Shuffle when Kylar/TheRock skewers him at the end?

Pesh: What a death throe that would be.

Me: And Cory Feldman has to be in the background somewhere, laughing.

Pesh: And wearing sunglasses.

Me: Dude, we got us a movie here. I bet it'd take down Transformers 2 for all-time gross.

Pesh: Especially if we add an exploding fish.




*sheepish*

Admittedly, part of that is in-jokes that won't make sense, and again, some of it won't be funny if you don't know the characters. Also, keep in mind that we're not dissing these celebrities.

...

Okay, not all of them. Heh.

Anyway, the next time you're reading a novel or a comic book or a graphic novel, give the ol' Nightmare Casting game a try. Fun for all ages.

And it also has the added benefit of making the last day of a holiday week go MUCH faster. Sweeeeet.