Found

Was digging through the closet today, and found a bag that had been one of my old witchy kits -- salt, a stick wand, a little heart-shaped Altoids box holding candles, matches, incense, more salt, and some feathers, and -- most exciting of all -- my stone bear. The stone bear that my first "official" boyfriend, Kermit, gave me.

Wow.

I held that thing in my hand every night from 1991/2 or so to 1995. There's some serious energy in that stone. It's sitting on my altar now, chilling.

Memories... I wonder if Mama ever did mend those quilts.

Fascinating.

From a link in som_pos, I come up with vulva amulets.

Az, you might like the one with the cobra...

Grrr...

Whoever they are, they must die.
(877) 729-3976

[edit: why so pissed? Telespam that won't put us on their Do Not Call list.]

Well, I got the Qwest annoyance phone call center...

(800) 582-0655

...but they were closed.

Because I have nothing better to do...

...I sit on the phone, dialling and redialling the toll-free number that showed up on our caller ID: 1 (877) 729-3976.

Just to be annoying. Just to waste their bandwidth. Just in hopes of finding out what the fuck this company is.

[Edit: As of 2003/11/03, I got a response back from the FCC saying that my yowling to them had been forwarded to the appropriate department, and that http://www.fcc.gov/cgb/consumerfacts/howtofile.html is the place to go to file a complaint, or call 1-888-CALL-FCC.]

Nice try...

Put on Monster and did dishes. Then I scrubbed at the floor. Now, some papers are put away in boxes, the shredded cardboard box from LF's racecars is on its way out (nice new plastic bin to dump them in, scavenged from my room), and vacuuming will happen.

Yep, sublimation.

Monster is one of the angriest albums that I personally own that's also kid-safe (reasonably).


...When I first played it, I thought that there was something wrong with Majel's speakers, and yanked it out, and tried another disc in there, which played beautifully. I put Monster back in, and it still sounded terrible. I decided that it was a feature, not a bug.

Shirts...

reichiere found a shirt I should get...

http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/generic/5eb7/

Sent the following message to the FCC, for lack of better place to send it:

( Spleen. )

If it walks like a bitch, talks like a bitch...

Well! That's two for two, with my newfound bitch-energy today.

First, Tommy and Angelica came over to play. They're leaving tonight for the new house, their mom?/grandma? said. So, even though it was after six (the time they can't play here after), marxdarx allowed them to stay for half an hour.

I have never noticed before how incredibly rude they are to him. He was talking to them, and they were ignoring him. Yelled at them to get their attention; they paid attention briefly. Only briefly, though; the next time he spoke, they ignored the fuck out of him.

Have unilaterally decided that the next time they do that, they are immediately uninvited, as part of the ground rules. Either they listen to, and follow the rules of, marxdarx, or we will insist that they leave, and they are not to be allowed to come back that day. Have yet to run that by him, but I think it should do some good.

Furthermore, the way the parent/guardian phrased things was deceptive. It sounded like they were leaving forever; evidently, they were only leaving for the week; they'll be back on the weekend. That pisses me off.

Then, later, just after getting the heartwarming news from the ever-quotable trollprincess that "If someone in the household says, "Do Not Call list", you put them on it. It doesn't matter if you train the dog to bark it," there was an abrupt banging at the door. Upon opening it, it proved to be an early-teenaged, high-voiced, tall, nervous kid rattling off a sales pitch.

I informed him, relatively gently, that the rules of this apartment complex prohibited solicitation without written permission from the apartment complex manager; did he have that? He thought not. One of his companions dug up the Arizona door-to-door sales certificate; I inquired, again, "Written permission from the manager?" That, it wasn't. "I didn't know --" "Well, now you do," I said sweetly, and shut the door upon the beginnings of a conversation between kid and an out-of-range grownup.

Now I see what Marah and garnetdagger are getting at with that whole bitchy thing.

Good stuff from the List: FWD: Why Engineers Don't Write Cookbooks, & Hoom!

( Why Engineers Don't Write Cookbooks )

And, Hoom! (I may have already shared this one...)
http://www.ooblick.com/text/tomordor/