azurelunatic: a modification of the Oxidizer hazard label reading 'Caution Flaming Asshole'  (flaming)
I will get even.
I have a very good memory for basic trivia like your online handle and your mom's name.
You don't practice very good information hygiene, and when you were desperate and when you were trying to start a business, you put all your contact information out on the web where it can be Googled. Like, in public.
You were a rat bastard to My Virtual Nephew.
Congratulations, yet another set of bill collectors know where to look to start finding your valid information.
azurelunatic: Escher's Order and Chaos drawing: geometric solids and broken things.  (Escher)
I think I've managed to convince him that he won't scare me off. He has not quite yet managed to convince me that I won't scare him off. I'm a far more confident person than I was at the beginning of all this, but I still find myself all whisperquiet around him and his family when I'm not quite sure of myself.


I put stickers on my phone goons' monitor reports, to dress them up a little and make them sparkle if they're good. As one of the four sisters was leaving, I noticed that she was wearing the sticker on her forehead. That made me smile.


Fresh cubed pineapple makes a very good breakfast.


Non-monogrammed Earth equivalents of the butterbug do not make a healthful addition to a good breakfast. Seems that a local had wandered in under the crack in the door, and decided that my computer repair toolkit case (lying under a clutter of papers) made a really great bughouse. When I decided today to declutter some while waiting for mail to load on this thing (Allegra is a steady little computer, but slow), I disrupted it. There was scuttering. There was shrieking. There was marching over to the wastebasket with the toolkit case and doing some firm dumping. Bug went into wastebasket. Screwdriver went into wastebasket. Screwdriver was gingerly fished out. Bag was marched down to the dumpster post-haste, with live butterbug still inside. It will enjoy its new home far more until trash day.


The bag of flour that has been sitting on the counter awaiting putting away like forever? Finally put away. Hooray for Doing Stuff.


Was interrupted by a call from some bill collectors. They were looking for a certain disagreeable ex-roommate who has made himself singularly hard for his creditors to find. I do not think that he was counting on me being very cooperative with the bill collector, looking for his mom's number (I do not have it anymore, alas), and telling the lady what to Google on. And gee, guess what she found? Current contact info.

Moral to this story? Do not piss me off, or I will assist the oncoming Karma. (However, when your presence is a joy to me, I will do my best to bring joy into your life too.)


I am not scheduled back at work until Thursday.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
The filing crate (a commercial descendant of the milk crate) secured to others with cable ties could be a strong presence in the ways of householdery that I follow. Not for decorative purposes, because it's ghastly, but for something structural and effective and modular, it beats wire-frame shelving of that same general sort all hollow, because it has its own structural integrity that isn't those blasted plastic connectors. There's a three-crate stack behind the head of the bed for the alarm clock and now Allegra; Allegra will be retrofitted with a NIC sometime Really Soon Now.

Yesterday I got two calls, probably both about the same class of thing. One of them was automated with a number to call back as a matter of some urgency. The other was a Real Live Human Being. The Real Live Human Being was looking for Marx. I suspect Bill Issues. The automated one got forwarded to my cellphone the other day, and didn't get answered. I have an address book entry for the bill collectors of other people in my cellphone, now, just so it'll flash something useful with the Caller ID.

Qwest's IVR doesn't know what to do when you sneeze at it repeatedly, and will try to forward you to a Live Human Being.

Performed the periodic "take stuff off bed, put back on" today, because there was much of the falling-off of futon. I'd gone to bed around seven-thirty-ish, and was nicely asleep, but the phone rang. It was Tay-tay. Yay catching up with little sisters! In semi-coincidence, she mentioned a general "hmm, I wonder if hanging out with my cousin would be fun," for values of "cousin" who go to Reed. I have every faith that the results could be the sort of Family Bonding that's truly scary for a non-family onlooker, especially if pink. (And I do have the late-night brain, but trust me when I say that I at least know what I mean. "Get on like a house on fire" is the usual phrase, if somewhat insensitive given that my Virtual Aunt just had a stack fire and lost some roof.)
azurelunatic: Small boy making faces. Animated.  (Little Fayoumis)
I shared this one with the aunts, and they found it disturbing and then funny.


Once upon a time, when a little boy wasn't doing as he should, the Parent-in-Charge (more or less) finally threatened the boy that either he should do as told, or the Parent-in-Charge would cut off the head of the boy's teddy bear.

The boy screamed back that he didn't care, and he still wouldn't do as told.

The Parent-in-Charge perhaps wisely didn't follow through on the threat.


... This was perhaps one of said Parent-in-Charge's last actions as parent of the child, as the child's biological parent summarily ended the relationship and revoked all quasi-parental rights (which had been given him by custom, not by law) and left post-haste with child in tow, within the next week.
azurelunatic: Rock in the sea, captioned "stationed forever on a far-distant rock" (Housewife's Lament)
The Politics of Housework

I recognize too much of this from when Marxdarx was living with us. Unfortunately. I think part of the problem stemmed from the fact that the line between "working on 3D stuff at home" and "playing around on the computer all day" is rather ambiguous to the untrained observer, especially when 80% of the time when the untrained observer pokes her head in, there's a game or some random internet site open rather than the 3D program.

That is not a current issue, though, and it's still too recent for me to talk about the time period without bitterness. Honestly, he'd not have been more than a dubious roommate if not for the conflicts over the Little Fayoumis. I took my duties as a full-time aunt seriously, and I keep wanting to have been more.

Day 3

27/2/05 14:37
azurelunatic: Animated woman's gloved hand dripping with her own blood.  (bleeding)
Figment came over last night to help move stuff. This was a good thing, because I started majorly freaking out. I tend to do that.

Sis and the gang came over a little earlier this morning, and she found that there had been a hole punched out of her wall. Punched, because it's fist-shaped. She did not do that. I did not do that. The Little Fayoumis did not do that (it's at the wrong height, he lacks the arm strength, and it's too big to be his). It had been covered over with a picture, the one picture that [livejournal.com profile] marxdarx had not taken down. She called him about it, and he denied having done it.

And that, of course, has severed ties between him and us entirely. It could have been no one else.

Most of everything is moved, except for a few little odds and ends here and there, and the last of the essential stuff that involves the phone line and the shower. I'm exhausted, dead on my feet, but still moving things and myself. It'll get done.

Darkside is excused from It's Your Duty As A Best Friend To Help Move; What Kind Of Friend Are You?? because of his help last weekend above and beyond the call of duty at the expense of my cordless phone's battery.

Party

1/11/02 12:03
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
All in all, I think the party was a success.


Clover got to have a bit of fun before going to work.

[livejournal.com profile] digitalambience went home drunk.

[livejournal.com profile] jedi_rezboy went home escorting him, although the crowd may have been a bit much.

Chris the random guy got to do jello shots and hang with interesting people.

[livejournal.com profile] evealone got to kick butt on the skateboarding game.

Bald Guy got to hang out with people, which he hadn't gotten to do for a while.

[livejournal.com profile] ralmathon had fun and got to spend time with his good friends. And he got fed!

Dawn had fun and got to talk to friends.

[livejournal.com profile] votania got to dress up in an exceptionally cool costume and hang out with people.

Nephew got to go trick-or-treating and hang out with lots of friends.

[livejournal.com profile] marxdarx I think got to catch the tail end of the anime? and unfortunately got more of the loud part of the party than the cozy-just-friends-hanging bit, which was about par for the course for most friends-hanging stuff, only with better food. Wish he'd been less stressed over non-party-related factors and more able to enjoy it.

Shamash was washed and kept in the bathroom as punishment for the beginning of the party before anyone got there for jumping on the altar and knocking over a glass bottle which spilled oil and left shards of glass in Votania's closet, then slept through much of the party, and enjoyed that of it which he did get to interact with, except for the part about eating the balloon ribbon and barfing.

Darkside got to hang with his best friends, share good food, play video games, geek-talk, get a backrub, teach his best friend about the playing of fighting games, watch anime, and watch other people getting drunk. He went home far too late, grinning.

I got to spend time with my best friend, have all of the above fun, learn some of the basic Street Fighter moves, and have the satisfaction that the party went off well. Oh, and I got Darkside's cellphone number, thanks indirectly to [livejournal.com profile] ralmathon's conception of the Alaska version of the Civil War, and the good offices of Caller ID.

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