It's not my fault...

...I haven't been blogging. My computer is infected. I know this because there is an error message that you cannot click to dismiss that says "You're computer is infected!" The IT guy keeps jumping on and rooting around remotely so I have basically been scared to touch anything. I'm just sitting here quietly and answering the phones while the IT guys earn their handsome retainer by making me feel like a dumbass.

More to follow when I get un-infected.

Sorry, I've been busy

What have you been busy with, you may ask?

• Recovering from my workout class. Oh, yes, one class. It's very awesome, but I am very out of shape. There are my triceps. I have been looking everywhere.
• Not smoking cigarettes. Although this is sort of a daily thing, and not so difficult since I discovered the trick of shoving every single other thing in my mouth.
• Dreading the arrival of what I am calling My Fourth Annual Thirty-Second Birthday. People want to buy me meals (which I am trying not to eat), buy me drinks (which make me want to smoke) or send me to Brave games (which make me want to rail and scream and weep bitter tears of frustration---Spinal Tap did not have the trouble with drummers that we are having with pitchers).
• Dicking around on line.

Yup. Busy.

So we are having this thing here at the Wub this week known as the Summer Hummer. Really. I know you are thinking "Hummer" in the modern, fellatary (? I think I made that up) sense, but turns out the logo is a hummingbird. Who knew?

Anyway, its this huge three day member-guest golf tournament and cocktail party. Picture Oktoberfest, but armed with sporting equipment. Have you ever seen a Vodka slide? If you were ever a person inclined to be intimidated by the wealthy, its reassuring to know that deep down inside they are vulgar little rednecks just like the rest of us.

The Hummer is always exhausting and always the weekend of my birthday, so lets have a moment of applause that this year I merely sit at the desk and look pretty rather than hump drinks and disdain the Vodka slide girls, which we have to contract out since one of our hiring standards is borderline self-respect.

Let's see, I made a little friend at Target last night. It's bizarre the way small children always talk to me. She thinks I should have a little girl so that I can buy her the Barbie Mermaid with silver nail polish. I told her I would get right on it.

I will wrap this up with the all time Greatest Hit of my conversation with small people. I met this small person at the Friends of the Library Book Sale this spring. Enjoy.

Child: Are you going to buy that book?

Me: I think I probably will.

I have twenty four books at home.

Wow, that's a lot of books.

Do you have more than 24 books?

Yeah, I do.

Do you have more than 50 books?

Yep.

More than 100?

Yep.

Do you have more than one...hundred...and EIGHTY TWO BOOKS?

I will bet you that I have six..hundred...books.

NUH-UH!

Yeah-huh.

(pause)How many books are on this table?

I dunno, maybe 150?

You have more than this many books?

I have 4 times this many books.

Do you have a lot of tables?

I have a lot of shelves.

I have a shelf in my bedroom and it has 24 books on it.

I have shelves in my bedroom and the TV room and the downstairs room

(interupting) My daddy has books in the BAAATHROOOM!

So does my dad. I guess Dad's do that.

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

I 've got a BUG IN MY POCKET!

"You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent."

I hate it when people transfer themselves back to me. It's just obnoxious. "I'm trying to reach so-and so-and I got his voice mail." Well, then I guess he doesn't fucking want to talk on the phone right now. What do you want from me?

I cried like six times yesterday. God only knows what's that about besides my nerves are shot. Thank God I got a solid 3 and 1/2 hours of sleep last night and left all my makeup at home. Otherwise, people wouldn't know I was puffy and pale. Things I cried about:

• My horrible skin and fatness and hair texture, which I'm sure will all blow over when my system detoxifies and I'm no longer premenstrual, but still.
• John Smoltz's shoulder, and don't even try to make me feel like an idiot because I'm not a bit embarrassed about it. I sat at my desk yesterday with an earplug in my ear and burst into tears as this total stranger who has been in my life since I was teenager spoke of life and change and blessings and made me believe he meant it. Amazing guy. Amazing. I'm tearing up now thinking about it.
• I'm about to be in my late thirties. I guess I'm never gonna have a baby.
• Watched Juno.
• Couldn't sleep and tried to distract myself with great memories and ended wading through a knee-high batch of horrible ones.

Anyway, not off to a great start today. I'm about to go accost random co-workers for some lip color. Wish I could have just stayed in bed.

Change of mood, because I must: saw an article on line this week (when I figure out how to add links I'll start doing that) where Spellcheck ran amok in a high school yearbook, making poor Kathy Carbaugh Kathy Airbag and Alessandra Ippolito Alexandria Impolite. It's evil, I tells ya; eeeee-viilllllllllll!!

Hobby options:

• Take back up the saxophone.
• Batting cages.
• Spanish class.
• Flossing.

It's from All About Eve.

Hi, Hi, Hi, Chellie!!!

Something besides Crosswords and Buffin' the Muffin

Here are the few fleeting thoughts that are on mind for the rare moments I can concentrate on anything at all besides actively not smoking:

• I need a hobby. I am opening the floor to suggestions of how to occupy my down time, of which I have plenty. Nothing that requires talent and nothing that will require me to cut my fingernails, please.
• I have never in my life called a number I don't recognize and said "Someone called me from there." Are you kidding me? Why would you do that? If they didn't leave a message why do you want to know? There are about 65 phones here and they are all going to read as the main number so if you don't have a guess as to which of our 160 employees and 900 members called you, I'm not going to be able to help you. It wasn't me.
• Jesus Christ in a Chicken Basket, are the primaries the fuck over yet??!?
• Tennis pros are jackasses.
• I gave blood yesterday and even though she got the vein on the first try I have a HUGE bruise today. The other dude said my veins were so good he could have darted me from where he was and I with great effort refrained from cracking a heroin joke. Just didn't seem appropriate at the time. Making plenty of heroin jokes today, though. (FYI: I don't use heroin. Although I hear it is less addictive than nicotine. Hmmm, maybe that could be my hobby.)
• Ratatouille is a really cute movie.