loon informed me that she has been reading Laurel K. Hamilton’s blog/journal. and i said, “what? what? WHAT? where is it? i must read it now!” she didn’t reply quickly enough for me, so i googled. i like journals that belong to writers. well, writers of books. i suppose all blog/journals belong to writers. because you are, after all, supposedly, writing in it. anyway, there it is. for fans of jean claude. who, to make it perfectly clear to liloo multisuck [won’t bother linking to her blog cuz she never writes in it], is MY boyfriend.

You’re Watership Down!
by Richard Adams
Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you’re
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You’d
be recognized as such if you weren’t always talking about talking rabbits.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

that’s right, i might be one of the greatest people of all time. go, me!

i work in fremont, a neighborhood of seattle. it is considered “an artist’s community.” and to a certain degree, it still is. but it’s been commercialized. and expensive condos have been built. little shops have been replaced with trendy sushi place’s, cold stone creamery, and pete’s coffee and tea. making it a total of three coffee places in less than a block. four, if you are willing to walk a couple more blocks to cafe ladro. used to be five, but the still life has removed the self service counter and become more of a bistro or something. so i’m not going to count that. thing is, i don’t drink coffee very often, so it’s all wasted on me.
what is the politically correct term for someone who asks for spare change? specifically one who appears to be homeless. personally, i like bum. but there is a specific reason for that. once, my purse was stolen out of my car. it had nothing of value in it, and was tossed in some bushes at a burger king, half a mile away. i know this because one night, around midnight, the phone rang and some strange man asked for me. it was a homeless man who had found my bag, and figured out who i was, based on various things within it. [this was a long time ago, over ten years at least. so i don’t remember all the details] he was explaining to me who he was and how he found it, he had some kind of midwest accent i think, and he was calling from an extremely loud location, on a pay phone.
“you see, i’m a bomb… you know?”
“you’re a what?”
“a BOMB!”
“you’re a bomb, i’m sorry i don’t..”
“I’M A BOMB I’M A BOMB, B-U-M BOMB!”
so periodically, when i hear someone use the word bum, i start yelling I’M A BOMB I’M A BOMB, B-U-M BOMB! which makes me laugh, and makes everyone else look at me funny. as per usual. anyway, i hooked up with him the next day, he gave it back, everything was there, and i gave him all the money i had at the time, which was pretty much nothing.
also, when i was in college, and working at the day care center, there was an after school kid i really liked. she was a pistol! a tomboy with tons of blond curly hair she could not be bothered to tame. one day, i asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and she said “a bum.” and asked her why and she said that it sounded like fun, you didn’t have to go to school, and you didn’t have to dress up. i mentioned to her you really didn’t even need to bathe, which she agreed was another plus. i remarked that her parents must be very proud, and she said they were. that’s another reason i like BUM.
anyway, i was asked for spare change today, while walking through the neighborhood, six times. five of those times by the same man, and two of THOSE times, he ask within the next five minutes. i’m the kind of person who cannot NOT acknowledge a request. if the answers yes, i give it to them. if the answer is no, i look them in the eye and shake my head or say no or whatever. i don’t just ignore them. that makes me feel bad. it’s rude. they are human beings, no better or worse than you. although sometimes their requests interrupt a conversation i am having and then i have to stop whatever i am saying to answer them, which is inconvenient. however, it’s usually no. and when they keep asking all day, and i’ve had to say no several times to the same person, i start to feel crappy. like it’s six separate times that i’ve failed to do something to help my fellow man. because i know my life is pretty cool, despite my financial woes. i know i’ve got it better than some. but still, six times in which i failed to open my heart to someone in need. or someone who needed booze. after i start to feel crappy, i start to get a little annoyed. and so i came up with a system.
first of all, they need to get together. maybe unionize. the bums/homeless/panhandlers whatever, so they can all agree upon this. i think that when they ask you for spare change, whether the answer is yes or no, they mark your leg with a chalk mark. just like they parking attendants do to your tires in a parking lot. see, they could have long sticks, with chalk on the end, and everything. and there should be a maximum amount of times someone should be asked for spare change, in one day. so, if they see you coming, and you have five tick marks on your leg they can say to themselves “whoops, she’s been asked five times today. shouldn’t ask for her change, as she might have to say no, and start feeling crappy about herself, leading to eventual annoyance. best to just let walk on by.”
it’s genius! but i think maybe only four times in a day. that should be enough.

once again, i feel the need to point out … gw bush is not my president. currently, i have no president. hence my problems with the IRS. [at least that is my story] what bothers me is that kerry, who looks to be our democratic candidate, is opposed as well. pro civil union, but anti same sex marriage. but he believes its a state issue. what is so god damn sacred about marriage, that we are even debating it? what are people so afraid of?
*shudder*
oh dear, was i getting political there for a second? how frightening! sorry if i scared you, mes petits chatons d’Internet. i shouldn’t be attempting to think serious thoughts, much less convey them publicly!
yesterday i was all full of myself and happy, because i thwarted an attempt to convince me that i needed to make my pc my main computer at work. [something i was told last thursday]. there was only one required piece of IBM technology that would have made it difficult, as when i was scheduled to use it, i would need to pay attention to it all day. ok, it’s a stupid piece of chat software. happy? anyway. i don’t have to do it every day, and it’s not even our choice of software. but it’s pc only. that is… IF you use IBM’s version. yesterday, i found a mac os x version. i tested it, it ran fine, i saw all the people i was supposed to see and they saw me and once again, i proved that not only am i super genius, but you really will not take away my mac, i won’t let you!! i could not have been more proud had i engineered the software myself. i am planning on emailing the guy who makes it and swearing my undying love for him.
thwarting is fun.

she’s sitting in front of the monitor, so i can’t see. with her tail flicking back and forth over the keyboard, so i can barely type, in a manner that just screams “say hi for me! say hi for me! make a typo you can’t see you are stupid feed me now!”

it’s a beautiful spring day here. it’s not very warm, but it’s sunny, with fluffy white clouds, and breezy. it’s quite nice. i love spring. spring and fall.
i promised i would tell you what they call potatoes, in scotland, didn’t it? tatties. they call them tatties. which borders on naughty, don’t you think? baked tatties, mashed tatties, french friend tatties, tatties au gratin, twice baked tatties… tattie soup. louise says she and her brothers, when they were children, had a charming little song they used to sing whenever eating tattie soup. guess what word they used to rhyme with “soup?”
i went to see a show at the fifth avenue with my mom and her fiance. while waiting for the show, i got restless. i had forgotten to bring a book or anything to play with. not even my little electronic dictionary. how was i supposed to fill the several hundred seconds until the show started. so i rolled up the worthless programs they give you and started swatting pattie with it. it was really more of a tap, than a swat. she tried to get me to stop with just the mere sound of her voice, but that never works. so she rolled up her program and turned to me with what was supposed to be a viscous face. which just made me laugh. so she turned away, and then we she had turned back, she had done this thing to her face.. to her mouth, that was nothing short of disturbing. she had taken her lips and tucked them under, so she was lipless. a lipless mouth with lots of teeth. it really is disturbing. go to a mirror, tuck your lips under themselves and take a look yourself. it still made me laugh, but i also yelled “what the hell!” but she couldn’t hold it for long, because she started to laugh. i tired to do it, but i had to use my fingers to get my lower lip tucked properly. and then it kept popping out. which made my mom feel superior. but i just told her that meant my lips were more luscious than hers. she showed me the trick of rubbing your finger on your teeth, so they are dry, and then doing the lip tuck. they stay tucked better that way. apparently, they were doing this at her office that day [i do not know why] and she is the only one who can do it without rubbing her teeth dry, or using her fingers to tuck her lips. i told her i was so proud to be her daughter.

for Just ’cause you pour syrup on something doesn’t make it pancakes!. look at the comment from someone named vioxx. now if that is not the most clever little piece of spam you’ve ever seen, i’ll be a monkeys uncle. or aunt.
look quickly, because soon i shall destroy it. i don’t tolerate no spam.

i just noticed something. down below, the post titled oh those double crossing sexy-sexy sluts [or something like that] i had completely messed up the link to the movie that louise and went to see, the triplets of belleville. the thing is, none of you pointed that out. none of you said, “hey jodi… this makes no sense, WHAT did you go see with louise?” no, you moved on to the next paragraph and then all you wanted to talk about was vibrators and sex toys.
perverts.
i fixed the link in that post anyway.

my writing group has stood me up! here i sit, in third place books. where are they? i received no email, stating group was cancelled. in fact, yesterday i specifically said i was showing up. that would have been a good time to tell me it was canceled. this is unfortunate because i woke up at 2:45 this morning and never went back to sleep. i’m extremely tired, and i have one of those sleep deprivation type headaches. i would have gladly gone straight home. i wanted to. this place is nowhere near my ‘hood. also, what’s more, i think that guy over there – no! don’t look directly at him! geez. – i think that might be my older brother. if it is, i will be most displeased. also, if it is, he’s cut his hair very very short. his back is to me, so i can’t say for sure. i saw him when he walked in. but he’s not close and vision is not my strongest sense.
so what was i talking about? oh yeah. writers group. i would just like to point out there is a writers group over at the next table. maybe i’ll join their group. i know its a writing group, because the first person there put down a bright piece of paper on the table that read “writer’s group” and i can tell, they’d be delighted to have me. they don’t even seem to know each other well. i’ll just go over and say, “hi, i’m jodi…. you know, jodi from the forums. yeah, that jodi. it’s nice to meet you.” and they will be too polite to turn me away. also, they will be jealous of squishy and will equate squishy with my superior writing skills and they will make me THEIR GOD!!
man, i’m tired. yesterday, i saw the most perfectest beautiful rainbow. it was so bright and the colors were so vivid. and you could see the whole arch of it. not just a portion. it must have been fake. it was too perfect.
one of the lisa’s i know, the one who sucks at blogging, directed me to a website called chicklit.com. and i think i am in love!! i’ve registered on the forums and posted two helpful posts. one about accessing extended characters on a mac. and another about allconsuming.net. i thank lisa for showing me this site, but she still can’t blog worth a damn.
today’s new scottish slang word is minger – which is pronounced with a hard G. this is a particular favorite of louise’s. it means “a physically undesirable, smelly, or ugly person.” the verb form to ming means to smell or look unpleasant. i think that minger is more fun because of the hard G. also, it’s usually used when describing a person and it’s insulting and that’s just fun. oddly enough, mingy appears to mean stingy or greedy. i would have thought it would be the adjective form of the word. oh well, silly scots! tomorrow, i’ll tell you what they call potatoes!
update: still unsure whether that guy is older brother. i’ve never seen his hair that short. but… he’s done stranger things before. as soon as i am done with my dr. pepper, i’m leavin!
oooo… hang on a tic.. he took his bulky coat off. it’s not him. he’s to skinny.
why can’t children play without shrieking? ok, i am really going now.