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apropos of nothing
Jan. 18th, 2007 06:44 pmI'm updating now because Ryan and I are seeing Pan's Labyrinth on Sunday and I have every expectation of loving it and writing it up in glowing detail.
J., the full-time overnight woman at the kennels, is on vacation this week. Unfortunately for Tery, who had to fill in for her last night and again tonight (I stepped up Sunday night). However Dr. K stayed Tuesday night to keep an eye on some patients of hers. She told Tery the next morning that she used to spend the night at the hospital all the time, but admitted to suffering some paranoia due to the break-in. She said she walked all the big dogs and had one dog left when she swore she heard a sneeze on the other side of the fence. Unfortunately the last remaining dog was a Yorkie, no one's first, second, or even third choice in an attack breed.
Not actually Lady, but you certainly get the idea
She told Tery she tossed Lady up the stairs with a whispered, "Good luck!" and locked the door behind her as fast as she could. I've had Lady the past two weekends, and I personally wouldn't have even bothered, knowing her penchant for dashing across the yard to cower under a folding chair without doing any business whatsoever.
~*~
I got another letter from the IRS yesterday. If you'll remember, they claimed I owed them about $2,000 awhile back. This letter 2 months later, however, was merely to inform me that my case was being examined and they'd get back to me. And here all this time I was just assuming no news was good news. Let it never be said that the IRS does anything too hastily.
~*~
My data remains trapped in the corpse of my old CPU. I put off going to Action Computers (many thanks once again to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dopshoppe, my knight in shining armor) because I didn't think I had any money and I would've felt damn foolish saying, "Here's my computer. Can you help me? Oh yeah, but I can't pay you until the end of the week." Then Tery came home from a night at the bar crowing about finding someone with a friend who could do it for free. This is one of the perks I can see about hanging out in bars: You can usually find someone who knows something about just about anything you need help with. However the drawback to relying on this kind of help is that you have to wait for the unlikely intersection of free time in schedules plus tracking them down again at the bar added to hoping they aren't too far along in their drinking before you get there. To further complicate matters, like I mentioned earlier I would ideally like to salvage some (a lot) of Snarry from the old unit and would feel infinitely more comfortable asking someone as a paying customer. I don't know why it makes a difference, it just does. I'm going to Action on Monday, Alicia, promise.
~*~
Every day I'm slipping further and further into a full-blown Alan Rickman obsession. I recognize the signs, I've been here before. Whereas I'm not quite at the point of hunting down every frame of film he's ever appeared in ever, I HAVE broken down and bought a used copy of Die Hard. Typically movies featuring such macho bravado bullshit that Bruce Willis seems to specialize in turn my stomach, but I remember Hans Gruber being particularly delicious, AND the disc features commentary with Alan (though in a peculiar "text" form that I've never seen in all my DVD watching -- it's positively criminal to have a commentary with Alan without using his voice, but this is how desperate I'm becoming). Not to mention the best line in the movie (and arguably of the whole man's career) belongs to him: "I am an exceptional thief, Mrs. McClane. And since I'm moving up to kidnapping, you should be more polite." S-NAP!!
I even bought a special 2-disc edition of Dogma in hopes of there being even a few seconds more of the Metatron, but alas. However, I haven't quite become desperate enough to spend good money on Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (see my scathing, hate-filled review) and if I ever do, I will probably keep that fact to myself.
~*~
My Alcoholic neighbor, who was soooo offended by the sight of Tracey's screen door hanging half open, has had 4 bags of trash on her landing all week. Thank God she's given up running to me with every little whining complaint about Tracey.
Coming soon: Pan's Labyrinth!!!!!!!!
J., the full-time overnight woman at the kennels, is on vacation this week. Unfortunately for Tery, who had to fill in for her last night and again tonight (I stepped up Sunday night). However Dr. K stayed Tuesday night to keep an eye on some patients of hers. She told Tery the next morning that she used to spend the night at the hospital all the time, but admitted to suffering some paranoia due to the break-in. She said she walked all the big dogs and had one dog left when she swore she heard a sneeze on the other side of the fence. Unfortunately the last remaining dog was a Yorkie, no one's first, second, or even third choice in an attack breed.
Not actually Lady, but you certainly get the idea
She told Tery she tossed Lady up the stairs with a whispered, "Good luck!" and locked the door behind her as fast as she could. I've had Lady the past two weekends, and I personally wouldn't have even bothered, knowing her penchant for dashing across the yard to cower under a folding chair without doing any business whatsoever.
~*~
I got another letter from the IRS yesterday. If you'll remember, they claimed I owed them about $2,000 awhile back. This letter 2 months later, however, was merely to inform me that my case was being examined and they'd get back to me. And here all this time I was just assuming no news was good news. Let it never be said that the IRS does anything too hastily.
~*~
My data remains trapped in the corpse of my old CPU. I put off going to Action Computers (many thanks once again to
dopshoppe, my knight in shining armor) because I didn't think I had any money and I would've felt damn foolish saying, "Here's my computer. Can you help me? Oh yeah, but I can't pay you until the end of the week." Then Tery came home from a night at the bar crowing about finding someone with a friend who could do it for free. This is one of the perks I can see about hanging out in bars: You can usually find someone who knows something about just about anything you need help with. However the drawback to relying on this kind of help is that you have to wait for the unlikely intersection of free time in schedules plus tracking them down again at the bar added to hoping they aren't too far along in their drinking before you get there. To further complicate matters, like I mentioned earlier I would ideally like to salvage some (a lot) of Snarry from the old unit and would feel infinitely more comfortable asking someone as a paying customer. I don't know why it makes a difference, it just does. I'm going to Action on Monday, Alicia, promise.~*~
Every day I'm slipping further and further into a full-blown Alan Rickman obsession. I recognize the signs, I've been here before. Whereas I'm not quite at the point of hunting down every frame of film he's ever appeared in ever, I HAVE broken down and bought a used copy of Die Hard. Typically movies featuring such macho bravado bullshit that Bruce Willis seems to specialize in turn my stomach, but I remember Hans Gruber being particularly delicious, AND the disc features commentary with Alan (though in a peculiar "text" form that I've never seen in all my DVD watching -- it's positively criminal to have a commentary with Alan without using his voice, but this is how desperate I'm becoming). Not to mention the best line in the movie (and arguably of the whole man's career) belongs to him: "I am an exceptional thief, Mrs. McClane. And since I'm moving up to kidnapping, you should be more polite." S-NAP!!
I even bought a special 2-disc edition of Dogma in hopes of there being even a few seconds more of the Metatron, but alas. However, I haven't quite become desperate enough to spend good money on Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (see my scathing, hate-filled review) and if I ever do, I will probably keep that fact to myself.
~*~
My Alcoholic neighbor, who was soooo offended by the sight of Tracey's screen door hanging half open, has had 4 bags of trash on her landing all week. Thank God she's given up running to me with every little whining complaint about Tracey.
Coming soon: Pan's Labyrinth!!!!!!!!
