Mayday.

Thanks to Z, I am now given a chance to redeem myself after a lousy performance at my first Script Frenzy. I won't even tell you how many pages I managed, because it brings me such shame, but here's the project for May:








Thanks for the idea, Z! I absolutely adore Nick Hornby's books column in The Believer, and I have actually attempted to make similar lists for myself in the past, but it got rather embarrassing when the Books I've Bought (or at least Heard of and am interested in) This Month list continued and the Books I've Read This Month came to a near-screeching halt. I have a small pile of things I have started, and since the books count as long as you read them between May 5th and May 31st, these will go in that pile (though I have started all of them, I will be reading the bulk of each one in this time frame, due to previously mentioned slackery). So for starters, here's a partial list:

Let's Talk About Love; a Journey to the End of Taste by Carl Wilson. I've been pecking away at this since February. Seriously.

Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie. I borrowed this from S way back when he was still in jail. That's how long it's been.

Soul Music by Terry Pratchett. This is a re-read, but I love it.

The Colour of Magic, also by Pratchett. I had already started Soul Music again when I found out that the movie version of this one would soon be available in the states, so now I'm ankle deep in both. Because I am not right in the head. Another list will follow, once I've made a game plan.

Customer of the Night #540: B.Y.O.B. Guy

I was busy. It was crowded. I was pouring a Jack and C0ke for a customer when I looked up and saw two guys squaring off about fifteen feet away from the bar. The started pushing and swinging at each other, and just as I was looking around for a door guy and getting ready to rush in, I realized that they were joking. These two guys had obviously just come in, but they were already drunk. Great.

Next thing I know, the taller of the two is pulling a can of M1ller L1te out of his pocket. Just as he starts to hand it to the other guy, I spray him with water from the soda gun. He wheels around and looks at me.

"You can't bring your own beer to a fucking bar, you douchebag!" I said, re-holstering the gun.

"Did you just spray me?"

"Yeah. Put that fucking beer back in your pocket."

They approached the bar, his hand attempting to cover the (beer) bulge in the pocket of his khakis.

"Did you just SPRAY me?" he asked, more loudly.

"Yeah. If you want a drink, you have to buy it."

"Well now it's an eye for an eye." He was reaching into his pocket.

"Motherfucker, I will throw your ass to the fucking curb if you take that out of your fucking pocket again."

They conferred with each other for a moment and then he pulled out his wallet.

"We'll have two R0lling R0cks."

I reached into the cooler, produced the beers, and opened them. As I set them on the bar, I smiled and asked "Can I get you anything else, sweetie?"

If only retail were this easy.

Random Notes to Myself.

Been cleaning today. Cleaning out pockets, drawers, the car, etc. Just trying to get a leg up on the clutter. Often when I am at work, I will scratch down a note to myself about something that I intend to write about later. Mostly I get around to it within a couple of days, remembering the circumstances and blogging the thought or observation when I have a minute.

Sometimes, though, I find a note and I have no fucking idea what it means. Or I know what it means, but I have no recollection of whatever originally prompted it. Here are a few of those:

"Old man Billy."

Uh, who?

"Pratchett's 'Moral Center'"

Love Pratchett. What the hell does this note mean?

"A tattoo on your arm or your back is a sign of- I don't know. Rebellion? Individuality? A hidden (or not) artistic nature? A tattoo on your forehead is just a sign that you lack judgment."

Self explanatory, but I still don't know what prompted it.

"I envy musicians because it's hard to write like you fuck."

That last one I actually remember a little. What I mean is that although you can express yourself in writing, and you can convey passion and intensity of emotion to a reader, the actual act of writing is not nearly as sexy, the payoff not nearly as immediate, as strapping on a guitar and getting on stage and taking an audience. Of course, it's also harder for bands to avoid potential stalkers.

The Rock.

I forgot to mention the fucking fantastic show that I saw Wednesday night at Tasty World. Idiot Slowdown opened for Music Hates You and Thunderchief. An interesting mix. I dug it.
Finally remembered to bring my camera and of course the batteries were dead. Damn. So now you'll have to go see them yourselves.

Beat.

Today was fuckwit day at the B.S. Squared. I am starting to recognize the pains in the ass before they are able to approach me, though, so I'm saving myself a lot of trouble by simply walking determinedly in the opposite direction. Elizabeth's stalker was in today. He still hasn't figured out that none of us like him, but my retail ninja skills worked just fine.
"Hooks?" I asked, not looking up at him. "Over there on that aisle." I pointed to the nearest aisle (which actually had what he was looking for- I wasn't lying), then waited until he turned around before leaping to my feet and rushing outside.
Just as the automatic doors were closing behind me, I heard him say "Do you know..."
No sir, I do not.

Another guy actually sniffed Elizabeth and told her that she smelled "bad in a good way" today. I wish I had been standing there, because I would have told him he smelled bad in a bad way. Or just punched him in the crotch. What a pig.

Next up, a woman who was standing in the middle of the garden center, saying "I need help" very loudly to no one in particular. No, she had not fallen, nor (unfortunately) was she having a heart attack. She had a question about fencing, and rather than going back to talk to Jon, who was standing next to the fucking fencing, she shouted and waved him over to her. When they both walked back to the fencing area, her husband asked me a question about a plant on the table in front of him. Since I wasn't sure, I stood up, leaving behind what I was working on, and walked over to look at the plant and read the attached tag. Having heard him, his wife swooped back in,and before I could answer, she snapped

"She doesn't know."

I ignored her and addressed his question calmly, adding an offhand remark comparing the plant to one that was perennial in some parts of the country, Georgia included.

"That kind isn't perennial," she snapped. "Only the blah blah blah kind are perennial."

I answered, very calmly, "Actually, that's not true."

She looked at me incredulously. "I've done it. I've had them." She was drawing a line in the invisible retail sand, daring me to cross it, like George H.W. Bush.

Cucumber like, I stepped over the line, squinting at her through my cheap sunglasses. "I have too. In my yard. They're perennial." I was Clint Eastwood.

"Well, excuse me" she replied, in a not-unlike Steve Martin circa 1978 tone, stomping off. Her husband, about whom I had completely forgotten, looked deflated. He put the plant down and followed her.


L and I were cracking up at the stupidest things today. We got a very large order of houseplants in, which included a number of Majesty Palms, and she took great pleasure in bowing slightly and saying "Your Majesty" in her lovely British accent as she put each one on the shelf. AT one point we were both bent over the same plant, obviously preparing to lift it (it was quite large and required all of our hands) when a woman who was, as L put it "wider than she was tall" came barreling past us with her five children in tow, completely blocking the aisle we were set to put it in. This was pretty much how the rest of the day went, and I was thankful that I had L and E there to joke with or I think I'd have wanted to shoot up the store.

Anyway, I finally got out of there, went to get the b.h., and we ate some pizza (white with broccoli and garlic- hells yeah) and then went shopping for work stuff. We are neither of us clothes horses, so a trip to the store is usually not very pleasant for either of us, but he managed to find some good work shoes, and I a few pairs of shorts (the first I have owned in several years), and we got back here before ten. Alas, I have no energy left to go either to Jenn's house for a beer on the deck or the Modern Skirts show at the Forty W@tt tonight. Actually, I think I'm about to turn in.

Caution! Political Spam.

As Usual, Dan Savage nails it:

"She won—but it’s not going to help. Hillary won’t be able to catch up with Obama. But she can stay in the race, divide the party, and fatally weaken the Democrats eventual nominee. Right now she’s Joseph Lieberman in a skirt."

Sometimes We Socialize.

Sunday we went over to Jenn's for a birthday shindig. I ate like a pig. It still hurts. Her house is super cool and her new deck totally rocks. I'm looking forward to more adult beverages on it this summer (yep- sometimes I invite myself over, too). It was great to see everybody in that context. Unfortunately much of my socialization takes place in bars, more often than not while I'm working, so it felt good to relax and have real conversation. Thanks, Jenn. We needed it. Hope you had as much fun for your birthday as we did.

We came home early and watched TV a bit, then crashed. I'm sitting on the couch listening to our new Okkervil River records- yes, records, my friends. Thank the gods some people are still pressing them. And speaking of which, does anybody know if the new Replacements reissues are coming out on vinyl anytime? Man, I hit the Rhino website today and just drooled.

The yard is looking really great. Still haven't planted any veggies yet, though. Gotta get the dirt/mulch/compost mix put in. I think I'm going to build some boxes around my raised beds this year. I meant to do it last year and never got around to it, and consequently I have lost a lot of soil. Ah well. Live and learn.

The b.h. is making asparagus risotto right now. It smells amazing. I think I'm going to go see if he needs some help.

A Glow/Aglow.

The last time Okkervil River played in Athens, I was looking forward to the show so much for so long that I suppose I was setting myself up for disappointment. Not so this time. Lately I have been so busy and so tired that although I had been looking forward to seeing them, it wasn't the same. Plus, the last show was kind of disappointing for various reasons, so my expectations were lower. They needn't have been.

Somewhere between the first few songs Will Sheff mentioned how drunk he had been the last time they were in Athens. The b.h. and I looked at each other.
"Well, that explains a lot," the b.h. shouted in my ear (we both wear earplugs and most of our conversations at shows are shouted). I nodded vigorously, feeling relieved. So the guy isn't really like that. Well, okay then. I thought back to how annoyed the rest of the band seemed at the 40 Watt show, how Will had kept on "performing" after accidentally ripping the chord out of his guitar (he hadn't noticed), and the look on the guy's face who had to stop playing and plug it back in for him. Yeah. In retrospect, that one was kind of disappointing.

Again, though, not this time. The sound was great in the Georgia Theater, and once we moved upstairs the people who were talking downstairs (it's Athens - we're used to it) were drowned out. The band was in top form, and though we missed the presence of the multi-talented Jonathan (especially in the "Sloop John B." vocal harmonies), it was one of the best shows we have seen them play. The b.h. said it was his favorite, but I have a special place in my heart for the show we saw them play at the Earl in ATl@nta a couple years ago. In any case, we were appropriately blown away, so much so that we had trouble listening to the New Porn0graphers afterward. Not that they aren't fabulous in their own right, mind you. It's just that in our minds (and probably only ours) the bands should have been switched. We wound up leaving early. Our friend l (not to be confused with L, my friend from the B.S. Squared) called when we were already home and informed us that Will had gotten on stage to do a song with TNP. Ah well, we're old and tired and had to get up very early on Friday, so there you go.

Speaking of l, I don't see her much anymore, and Thursday was no exception, though we had called each other to go to that show. It was all very weird and confusing, but basically we got separated before the show and never really fixed things. (Sorry, l. Let's get a beer sometime, hey?)

We both worked early on Friday, and then I worked on Friday night as well. Saturday I got up and took the b.h. to work, and then came home and crashed for a few hours before going to the B.S. for a few hours. Last night I did laundry, put up new curtains, vacuumed up the seventy-five pounds of dog hair that have accumulated in the past week, cleaned the bathroom, and watched some TV on DVD. Flight of the Conchords is fucking hilarious. Also, I recommend The Minor Accomplishments of Jackie Woodman to anyone who hasn't seen it yet. I definitely want my TV show to be on IFC or HBO. It's so much funnier when people can talk the way people really talk. (I have never heard anybody actually use the word "friggin'" in person, and I don't want to see it on TV either).

And oh, by the way, have any of you seen John From Cincinnati? Holy crap it's out there. "I've got my eye on you!" Yeah. Weird. I was following right along for the first several episodes, and then suddenly there was an episode that made me feel like I was on drugs. Or maybe that I needed some drugs. I watched it twice. Brilliant. Weird. David M1lch is my hero.

Today we're planning on visiting some friends here in the neighborhood for a bit, and then we'll be off to a friend's birthday party. It feels good to have a day off and a good plan. Right now I'm off to get a few more things in the ground before we head out. Happy Sunday, Y'all.

Holy Crap.

Just got home from the Okkervil River show at the Georgia Theater, I am certain that I will eventually have more to say about it, but right now I am busy basking in the afterglow.

Now I Get It...

I'm watching Leonard Cohen - I'm Your Man. Finally get what the b.h. meant when he said Rufus Wainwright is the gayest man alive. "He's Liza fucking Minelli" was the exact quote, I believe. He's right. The man is en fuego.

By The Way...

Hercules Double I.P.A., from the Great Divide Brewing Company in Colorado, is totally kickass. And at 9% alcohol by volume, one bottle of it has gotten me tipsy for two straight days. Way to go, Great Divide Brewing Company!

Wow.

This is amazing. I know I have just outed myself (again) as a total geek, but there is just something about a library. I can almost smell the rooms in these photos. This is my version of internet porn.

I remember as a kid going to the library with my older sisters. I am forever in their (and my mother's) debt for giving me such a love for reading. Of course, The 0ak L@wn Public Library doesn't quite measure up to the architectural marvel of these buildings, but it does have it's own brand of Mike Brady School Of Architecture charm. Books have gotten me through some of the worst things I have ever faced. If I could give anything as a gift to the general public it would be my love of books. (Of course, I would have plenty left over for myself, because my love knows no bounds...)

I have a really, really fantastic bookshelf in my house. It is actually meant to hold dishes, I believe, and it came out of an old building in Evanston, Illinois. I bought it in 1999 at a salvage company on South Halsted Street in Chicago for next to nothing, delivery included. It is solid oak, walnut stained, and by far the coolest purchase I have made as an adult. It is, as they say here in the American South, "slap full" of books (and dishes, for that matter. And rock show posters, and photographs...) and it reminds me of the massive, solid-looking wooden shelves in these pictures. Perhaps this is why I am so attached to it. It is difficult to move (though sa bum nim had much less trouble than anyone else who ever tried - kam sa ham ni da, sir), impractical for a person who has moved as often as I have in the past ten years, and certainly not "worth" the trouble, but just thinking about it makes me want to go get the furniture polish. I think I want to be buried in it. Have you ever owned a piece of furniture that made you feel like this? Or am I insane? Are those two things mutually exclusive?

Yesterday we rented a brush mower, which we carried to the house with the help of our friend Adam (thanks Adam!). Always have at least one friend with a truck, people. It's key. (Since I have been the friend with the truck I feel like I have built up a bit of truck karma at this point, but I am always grateful and surprised by the generosity of the truck people.) Jared and D-Mac came to help us bring it back this morning. It was earlier than I had ever seen either of them- after actually going to sleep, anyway. In any case, for the first time in about four years the bulk of our acreage is visible. Kilgore is pissed because he likes to poop in private and we cut down his blackberry hedge. The yard looks huge. The possibilities are endless, and I work with plants almost every day. Shit. Oh yeah, and then there's the weather...

The Squid is Actually a Whale.

The other day I was trying to hurry up and water before I had to leave the B.S. Squared. We had put up a ton of plants, and they were all pretty dry, and since everything else was already done I told Barb I would handle it. I was standing in a giant row of Boston Ferns, having dragged the hose from several rows away, and I saw Middle Management Jim come outside. He stopped to talk to a customer for a minute. Apparently, he did not realize that I had seen him, because he "snuck" over to the next row and pinched the hose so that the water stopped running. It would have been funny, if I hadn't seen him and didn't know why the hose was pinched, and I could see what he was trying to do. It wasn't that I was mad at all, just that the joke failed because I knew he was there, so I leaned down, looking at him from under the hanging baskets. He was hunched down, grinning like a schoolboy, obviously hoping to "get me."

Now pause for a moment while paint you a picture:

Imagine, if you will, an underwater scene. There are small plants and sea creatures in mostly shades of blue and green, happily going about their business. Imagine a school of maybe fifty sea horses. Now imagine a whale, crouching behind these sea horses, attempting to hide from whatever a whale might attempt to hide from. Imagine that whale is wearing a brightly colored vest.

Normally I would have started laughing. In an "at" way, rather than a "with" way. But because it was MMJ, and because I have no desire to encourage him to be any less competent or any more friendly toward me, I looked at him instead and asked, very calmly

"What are you doing?"

At which point, he stood up and said awkwardly

"Uh- sorry"

and walked away.

The B.S. Has now Been Cubed.

Dear Incredibly Stupid Salesman:

Should you choose to visit my store again under the guise of "helping" me, I would appreciate it if you call first so I can swallow a bottle of sleeping pills and bang my head continually on some paving stones just prior to your arrival. It would be so much easier to communicate if we were on the same level.

I understand that you are higher up in the corporate family tree than I am, but you are not my superior in any sense of the word, a fact which you may wish to consider before you try any more of your hilariously misguided management techniques out on me. Also you stupid twunt, telling me that I am the "best employee they've ever had" sounds ridiculous and false enough on its own (especially after you have just read off a laundry list of things that I am doing incorrectly), and in the future should not be followed up with an insult to the last person who held my position, especially since we are good friends and she got me the job you fucking jackass.

Next, when you are confronted by a person whom you have insulted, rather than backpedaling awkwardly and trying to shift the focus to what an idiot I am, you may want to ask yourself how often this person and I might talk to each other, considering the fact that we work together every day for several hours you little bitch.

Also, before you tell a person that their co-workers don't respect them and will not help them, you may want to spend some time in the store and see just how much those jobs are interrelated, how much they do help each other, and again, how much these people talk to each other you feckless twit.

In conclusion, RTFM motherfucker. I have read it, and I read you the minute I saw you, and I have no patience for stupidity. I am here to do my job (which, despite your occasional presence in my life, I very much enjoy) and you are getting in my way.

Thanks!

Sincerely,
Hey Bartender

Small People.

I'm not talking stature here, people. I'm talking about stunning idiocy and the kind of behavior that people practice when they have no power and no self-esteem, and they find somebody else that they think is somehow beneath them. Stupid Redneck Sarah (Now with more breast!) and I were putting out some plants today when Not Very Bright Neil (a New Guy who has already fallen out of the pine straw trailer twice- and no, this is not a common occurrence, bless his heart) asked her to come over to where he was working for a minute. It was twenty five feet away, but obviously the question he had was about something that he couldn't bring with him, so he needed her to come and look at it.

"I'm busy," she growled. Then she looked at me and snorted. "Did yew heeyar that? I tole' him I wuz busy!" she said, grinning at me proudly. I looked at her blankly for a moment, waiting for her to go see what he wanted, and then went over myself. He just wanted to know where to hang up a sign.

Grandma is making an ever bigger nuisance of herself. Today she came to work before I did and immediately started telling Elizabeth that I was basically an idiot and didn't know how to do my job. Then she proceeded to do very little all day while she looked over Elizabeth's shoulder and while I was outside busting my ass. I swear to the gods I like the job, but the woman is so fucking insufferable I don't know if I can take it.
I celebrated eight more hours of not killing Grandma by buying some three hundred or so gladioli bulbs that were on super clearance. I will likely put a few in my yard, give a few to my boss, and donate the rest to Community Connection, where I hope they will find their way to a community garden, nursing home, or the battered women's shelter. I have a call in to them already.
In other news, I got to meet two of L's six kids - of the four legged variety, like mine - today. Phil is the calmest, coolest Great Dane I have ever met. I can't remember the other guy's name, but he was much smaller and still managed to hold his own in the attention-getting department. I fed them peanuts through the car window while they waited very patiently for their mom to come out of the store. I wish my kids were that well behaved. They bark like mad when anybody gets near the car, and should anyone be silly enough to stick their hand in the window, I am quite certain that they would lose it. Ah well. You can't have everything.
My not blue roses are blooming. I was going to post a picture of them, but I waited too long and now it's dark outside, so maybe tomorrow. Despite the false advertising, they really are very beautiful, and they smell fantastic. They're even giving my Meyer Lemon tree a run for it's money. I put a few more things in the ground today and spent some time turning the soil in the veg beds. Still need to get more mulch from Harold the Tree Guy, and this year I intend to actually put some boards around the beds to prevent erosion, so no veg in the ground yet. But my seeds have almost all sprouted, so things are moving along.

Long Weekend.

I worked on Thursday at the store, then Thursday night at the bar, then Friday at the store. Friday night I stayed home and did laundry and cleaned house and went to bed early. Saturday morning I took the b.h. to work and then went and ran errands. Managed, after much searching, to find a comfortable pair of waterproof shoes and a shirt with a UV protection rating of 50. I'm not exactly one to tan, you see, so I have to do whatever I can to protect myself from the sun. For the past twelve years I have achieved that by mostly remaining indoors while it was up, but no more.
I worked Saturday night. It was relatively uneventful.
I bought a second blue (I should say "blue") rose bush, and it bloomed pink like the last one. I'm going to try and give the other one extra nitrogen and see if Jamie's and my theory doesn't work. I returned it today and got some pineapple sage and a clay pot. Also picked up a gallon of paint and a paintbrush which I hope to put to use this week in our kitchen. I'll be sure and take some pictures when I finally do (I know you're all - er, both - very excited).
Too tired to expound much further. Read a bunch of blogs and caught up on my magazines in the last couple days, but not much else.

Invasive.

I have deleted an entire post rather than allow a spamment that I stupidly published without reading first. Honestly, do they think we're all going to rush to join their pyramid scheme based on a comment on a stupid bloody blog? Arrrgh!! Is there anywhere in the world that is safe from advertising? I read in W1red magazine yesterday that there are now places in large cities where audio ads are played when you walk under a sensor. The deal is that you don't know where the voice is coming from, so you stop and listen, looking for the person who you assume is speaking to you. I guess they assume that consumers will be so impressed with their ability to invade every fucking space in our lives that we will run out and buy their product. Yuck. I don't know if I can ever live in a city again.
The good news is that it was a rather lame post- nothing to report, or rather, very little time in which to report it, so I just spat something out. And now it's gone. Work has been very busy and mostly pleasant. I am still learning a ton about all of the plants, and being so enamoured, fighting on a daily basis not to buy one of everything. My "blue" roses bloomed- they are, of course, pink. And coincidentally we got a new order in yesterday, so I bought another "blue" one (we'll see...) and will return the pink. That's the one nice thing about the B.S. Squared: In corporate America, the Customer is always right.
Speaking of the Big Stupid Box Store, I recently learned about the security policy, or lack thereof. The Loss Prevention Lady was fired last Friday because she saw a customer acting suspiciously, followed him out to the parking lot, and asked to see his receipt. He showed it to her and proceeded to cry foul at the top of his lungs, threatening to sue BS Squared for harassment. They of course panicked, and she was gone before the end of the day.
There are no cameras to speak of outside the BS Squared. Though they can monitor your every move inside no matter where you are, there is not even one camera in the parking lot, so if one were to lift, say, a five hundred dollar grill, or a trailer, or as many bedding plants and shrubs as one could carry, one could do so without fear of punishment. And people do. At least, with the plants they do. The grills and trailers and riding lawnmowers are locked down. But our numbers are always off, and it is because the BS Squared refuses to spend the money to get security cameras outside, and overnight people come and help themselves to whatever they want that lives in the parking lot.
They do, however, feel free to blame their losses on Elizabeth. I heard Fat Sam the Store Manager (He is above not only MMJ, but also Barb and Bob)telling her the other day that "you lost money out here last year, so you don't get any more help." In the meantime, SRS (she weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet)and L are running around loading pine straw, wheat straw, soil, and rock for customers, and we can't get all of the plants on the shelves because they have sent more than we ordered and there is no room. Meanwhile, plants are dying because no one has time to water them.
Crazy Kathy the Cashier tried to stop a customer leaving yesterday after the alarm went off, but they kept walking, and Bill pointed out that she might want to leave it be lest she be fired. She threw her hands up, knowing that Bill was right. You won't be fired if somebody steals from you and gets away with it, but you may be fired if you try to stop them. See how that works? Yeah- I don't get it either.
The other person from my company is now on full time at BS Squared as well. I do not enjoy her company, to put it as politely as possible (this will likely be the last time that I am this polite). Since she shares a first name with my late grandmother, (and because it suits her) I will refer to her henceforth as Grandma. Grandma is not chronologically old, but she has a way about her that invites the comparison. She is older than I am, but not as old as she acts. She is mostly physically incapable of doing the job, as she is "recovering" from back surgery(it has been a year now), but she still insists on having a full time schedule. It takes her literally more than four times as long to do anything as it does anyone else, and mostly she just gets in the way. She is constantly reminding everyone of her pain, through pained expressions and slow, SLOW progress- even when she is walking, slightly bent and with one hand held to her lower back. She is generally useless and quite depressing to be around. I discovered even before she started back to work that she is addicted to drama and longs for attention and sympathy, and I have no time for either. I showed up last week on her second day, and all of the BS Squared employees rushed to greet me, happy for the help and the opportunity to unload their frustrations. If Grandma were a more pleasant person, her limitations would be at least somewhat forgivable, but she is a miserable bitch and therefore her presence is insufferable. She complains constantly about things that can't be helped, or that are simply part of the job, and is constantly underfoot and over your shoulder (how this is possible with a woman so completely crippled is beyond me, but she somehow manages), and hyper-critical of Elizabeth, whose job she applied for and was refused. So I spent the first fifteen minutes of my first day with Grandma defending Elizabeth, and the rest of it avoiding her completely except to try and ask her what the fuck she was doing.
The good news is that we can work fairly independently of each other, and since I am young and nimble I can mostly avoid crossing her path.

Saw my friend M play with his new country band last night. That was fun. My friend J and I were, we discovered, at the same bar at the same time and neither of us working for the first time that either of us could remember. Of course, I had been up all day and only stayed for one more beer after he arrived, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

Saw Jamie on Sunday for the first time in weeks. Got myself a couple dozen eggs and we hung out and caught up a little. Things have been quite hectic and i am finding it difficult to keep up with anybody. It also looks like the b.h. is going to take on at least one more shift at his new job, so I don't know when things will be less hectic. Ah well, at least there's gardening to be done. That always keeps me centered.