I played Lunchtime Intraoffice Interdepartmental Poker today. I had not been able to play since this summer. The regulars had all received nicknames since I last played. Miss Kitty, Ace Barracuda and Boss. Here’s the thing about my Poker Playing stratagem, you will never figure it out. Never. Because it’s fluid and depends on the phases of the moon, my blood sugar level, what day of the week it is, how much sleep I had the night before, the total number of ounces of Dr Pepper I have consumed, and whether or not I want to make my co-players cry. And whether anyone has brought any candy to the table. My stratagem floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee, baby! Sometimes, I play with my cajones. I’m all up in their faces, betting hundreds with only a 6 high. Distracting everyone with my witty color commentary. Other times, I am cautious and quiet, and I use that time to learn about my opponents. But, most importantly, no matter how many times I watch Celebrity Poker, I cannot recall what one with any skill at all would do. I don’t like to be limited by the advice of experts anyway.

Today, I played with my cajones. Big bets with nothing to back it up, and for the most part, it was working. I did get pocket Ace’s, which I decided to call pocket tee-pee’s. However, I think they are called pocket rockets. At one point, I took all of Miss Kitty’s chips. And I was in the lead major. But I blew it. I lost everything. Boss took all the chips, i don’t know how, I thought I was a shu-in for Big Poker Kahuna today. Oh well, my sparkling poker personality, color commentary, and cajones did earn me my poker nickname. Miss Conduct. Can’t win if you don’t play, baby.

We join Evilded and Jodi, midway through, what started out as, an actual conversation about work related items.

Jodi: Wow… you’re right, that is bad. You should write that up.

Evildeb: I’m gonna.

Jodi: Excellent, see that you do that, Deb.

Evildeb: I’m on it, Jodi.

Jodi: Good to know.

Evildeb: I am on top of it.

Jodi: Are you all over it?

Evildeb: I am on top of it and all over it.

Jodi: Like white on rice, except for brown rice which is, obviously, brown rather than white?

Evildeb: Like lightening on that one guy who played Jesus in that one movie.

Jodi: errr… What?

Evildeb: That movie, about Jesus…

Jodi: The Mel Gibson movie?

Evildeb: Yeah. The actor that played Jesus was hit by lightening 3 times. While filming the movie.

Jodi: No way… did they not see that as a sign that God was pissed off about the script? Or the direction of his character in the film?

Evildeb: No, they thought that it meant God was happy!

Jodi: Uh-uh, sorry, that was Jesus… that was the Son, and he was saying, “Wait a minute… that’s not how it happened!!”

Evildeb: Definitely unhappy.

Jodi: “Oy… you guys… hey…. LAY OFF MY PEOPLE! Quit picking on the Jews.”

Evildeb: “Lay off my peeps.”

Jodi: “Come on… give the Jews a break already.”

Evildeb: Yeah… give the Jews a kit-kat bar.

Jodi: Deb, as a partial Jew, how do you feel about that?

Evildeb: as a half Jew? I’m totally in favor of it. I love kit-kat bars. I bet my dad does too. Except he’s diabetic.

This is a transcription of a spoken conversation, as such, it has been edited to maintain flow and because there is some stuff I don’t remember. But the gist of it is there. I author of this blog takes no responsibility for accuracy with regards to the statement “that one guy who was jesus in that one film was hit by lightening three times while filming.” I asked for no verification, nor was any provided.

My sanrio.com Hello Kitty* horoscope for today:

(February 8th) Try a new way of expressing yourself creatively. Don’t worry about making a perfect piece of art; start telling your story and it’ll go from there.

Which was a coincidence because I was just thinking about the way I blog. I don’t spend a lot of time on word-smithery when writing my blog entries. [although, I did give a serious two seconds to thinking before I came up with the word “word-smithery”] I just write off the cuff. By the seat of my pants. And other metaphors involving clothing. And I guess that’s a good thing. All the books on writing say you should start your draft off by writing without editing or critiquing. It’s just, this isn’t a draft. This is basically it. I do go up to the blog to check to see if things look ok, and sometimes, I see mistakes which I go back and fix. But that’s mostly spelling, punctuation or missing words. So I admire the blogs I read that show a great deal of care and thought in regards to the words used, the tone set. And I ask myself, “why can’t I take that time and that amount of care?” But then I see a shiny object, and I’m off somewhere else.

Wait a second… that’s yesterday’s horoscope! Sun of a bitch. [I actually typed the word “sun” and as I went to change it, I decided to leave it because your horoscope is your sun sign and there’s all this symbolism and shit. Which is really deep. Straight from the seat of my pants.]

*footnote: The sanrio.com horoscopes list my favorite things, as a Libra, to be: Winning Arguments, Designer Clothes, Sugar. I’m not sure about the designer clothes, I’m not really a clothes horse. However I do like shoes and handbags. I am in total agreement with the winning arguments and sugar.

I was just browsing the MovableType Tips and Tricks forum, reading thread about spam. People were complaining about TypeKey, oh it was too hard for their readers to register, it was too big of an obstacle, no one comments on my blog now, blah blah blah. There was someone from Six Apart in there for awhile, but she has been missing for the last page of posts. She’s probably banging her head against the wall. Occasionally, I read the forums for my software. These forums created for users. And it drives me nuts. Mostly what drives me nuts are the people are yelling at us asking us if we are listening, or when they question our intelligence. Oh! I like it when they accuse us of hatching nefarious plots. People can be very insulting in the forums that companies post for the users of their software. On the one hand, The Six Apart girl was honestly trying to get feedback, about what made this feature unacceptable. And they were giving it to her… rather brutally. Honest feedback is good. But on the other hand, she was required to then bang her head on the wall to remove the bitterness that was building from reading the posts. [I’m assuming. That’s my procedure at least.]

Anyway, I was tempted to post just to tell them to shut the fuck up. If you aren’t getting any comments because you require registration, maybe you aren’t worth it. *gasp. I’m a little sensitive about user forums* No, but seriously, lots of people require registration. I do not register right away, but if I comment more than, say, three times a week, well then it’s worth it to me to do so. Many blogs require my TypeKey log-in and then I read some that require Blogger ID’s. That’s two … only two, for all the blogs I read. Not everyone is registered to comment on my blog, but I am lucky enough to be able to moderate my blog fairly easily. I don’t have that many commenters. Some people do not have time to moderate every comment, and to be forced to require registration to cut down on comment spam is unfortunate. But, things change, the entire state of Washington used to use one area code, now I have to use an separate area code to call my house from my office. I adapted, and I am not good at remembering numbers, kids. People will learn to adapt, they will learn to register on the blogs that really matter to them. Because this right here, this is war, [start humming the Battle Hymn of the Republic here] and the comment spammers are going down. I would think people who enjoy the blog world would be in favor of joining the fight by registering. Only YOU can stop forrest fires, campers!!

Yup, you guessed it. Not much going on … outside of work. So I thought I’d just get all riled up and and righteous. n’shit.

You know, if someone says to you “I’m not trying to bust your chops, Jodi, but…” most likely, they are, indeed, trying to bust your chops. One way to tell; if they proceed to bust said chop from four different angles, four different directions, before making their final chop busting blow. So you get to sit and hear it for four times as long, before you can defend your chop. You and everyone else. Of course, this may all depend upon you being named Jodi.

Don’t worry kids, I still got my chops. But I was thisclose to just yelling out “shut up shut up shut up already! i get what you are saying!! you doubt that i did a thorough job. let’s just skip to the part where i tell you that yes, i did double check and yes I am certain, ok?” Since you are not trying to bust my chops or anything.

Some of the things I am working on right now, at work, are not easy. They are complicated annoying problems that are difficult to pin down. And there are many people involved, with me in the middle. The people on the Outside are frustrated and angry. Rightfully so, but they are less cooperative now because of it. The people on the Inside, with me, are fine. Ok, sure, one of them tried to bust my chops, but like I said, I still got ’em. I’m not easily intimidated. [just easily annoyed.] We had a meeting about this one particular issue first thing this morning. Excellent time for a meeting, btw… first thing Monday morning. As I was walking out, someone not in my department who does not do my job said, “man, I feel sorry for you.”

ahhh… the comfort of pity from your coworkers.

Tha Shizzonator. I love translation websites. My favorite game used to be to write an email, use bablefish to translate it to french, and send it to my friend. Who would then have to translate it back. Just to see how messed up it got. I love that game.

Anyway, here is yesterday’s post after the shizzonator. I was cracking up out loud, all Dr. Stevil said was “there’s only one T in Scotland.”

Whatever!! I could play with this site all day long…. Courtesy of Drink More Jack

Maybe I’m being unfair da Scottish muthas n’ shit. ..

but I wuz driving in my hooptie an ad came on da radio fo’ some fancy guitar concert, know what I’m sayin’? Night of Guitars, I believe, know what I’m sayin’? With guitar masters from izzall over da world.” Including a Scottish Jazz Guitarist n’ shit. And I thought myself, ” Scottish Jazz Guitarist? That just does not compute, know what I’m sayin’? ” Jazz, know what I’m sayin’? …. Scottland, know what I’m sayin’? …. kilts n’ shit. .. bluegrass maybe, but jazz? I can’t picture someone discussing jazz wit a scottish brogue n’ shit. Oh well, learn something new everyday.” Being part Scottish myself, I shouldn’t be doubting da vast amounts of culture ‘n talent of my muthas.

Speaking of Scottish muthas, Louise is leaving this week n’ shit. She is going crib fo’ ten days n’ shit. Home being, of course, Scottland, land of adorable accents n’ shit. Poor Louise will be one of many adorable accents, however n’ shit. No special treatment now should brizzle happen go a book signing. Non of her Scottish friends are going make her be like “squirrel” or “fury” over ‘n over delight in da way brizzle says her r’s. Unless of course they think brizzle’s gotten an American accent, in her time here, know what I’m sayin’? I bet they do, know what I’m sayin’? I bet they izzall be like, “Oh Louise, listen yo’ adorable American accent, yo’ ass are so cute! Just like Mary Poppins, yo’ ass are practically perfect in every way.” ”

I’ll miss her of course n’ shit. . I’ll probably walk around da office izzall sad, mumbling “squiddle, know what I’m sayin’? .. squiddle, know what I’m sayin’? .. squiddle” myself n’ shit.

but I was driving in my car an ad came on the radio for some fancy guitar concert. Night of Guitars, I believe. With guitar masters from all over the world. Including a Scottish Jazz Guitarist. And I thought to myself, ” Scottish Jazz Guitarist? That just does not compute.” Jazz….. Scottland….. kilts… bluegrass maybe, but jazz? I can’t picture someone discussing jazz with a scottish brogue. Oh well, learn something new everyday. Being part Scottish myself, I shouldn’t be doubting the vast amounts of culture and talent of my people.

Speaking of Scottish people, Louise is leaving this week. She is going home for ten days. Home being, of course, Scottland, land of adorable accents. Poor Louise will be one of many adorable accents, however. No special treatment now, should she happen to go to a book signing. Non of her Scottish friends are going to make her say “squirrel” or “fury” over and over to delight in the way she says her r’s. Unless of course they think she’s gotten an American accent, in her time here. I bet they do. I bet they all say, “Oh Louise, listen to your adorable American accent, you are so cute! Just like Mary Poppins, you are practically perfect in every way.”

I’ll miss her of course.. I’ll probably walk around the office all sad, mumbling “squiddle… squiddle… squiddle” to myself.

I made up a word the other day, and it’s genius. When I told it to Evildeb, she agreed, and then we made another genius world. And it’s all because of chatting.

Fee and I were chatting the other night. She had just been given a new ergo keyboard. It’s this crazy thing where the keys are actually concave in the board. Like two little bowls. With keys in them. Actually, here it is, if you want to see it. Needless to say, this was affecting her typing. She was getting frustrated, but I was having fun. Trying to figure out what she was saying. It was actually kinda cute.

That is Fee explaining to me that, either If She Can’t Type, She Can’t Get Carpal; or that If She Wants to Type, She Can’t Get Carpal.

Now she is explaining to me that she is going to be training on her day off, and she will ask if she will receive a comp day for that.

She’s confirming I can understand her.

She is describing someone’s appearance.

And finally, here she explaining to me that wil wheaton is having comment problem on his blog.

See? Cute. Anyway, we were chatting away, and I was describing someone’s behavior as passive-aggressive, which I abbreviated to pass/agg, creative abbreviation being the mark of a skilled chatter. But, that phrase comes up so often in my life. It might be the people I hand around with, I don’t know, but I find myself saying passive-aggressive on a regular basis. Therefore, I came up with a new word:

Passaggrive. Which is pronounced pass-AGG-rive. Genius!! Obviously, it’s a combination of passive and aggressive in one word. Saves time, saves strain on your typing fingers. Go out and use it in a sentence 10x’s today!

The next day, I was chatting with Evildeb. We were discussing how much fun it can be to work with The Man. We enjoyed him a great deal, so much, it made us want to punch him, but with affection. I don’t think there is a word to describe that feeling. Or, at least there wasn’t. Affectolence – intense, but not life threatening, physical force, used to express affection; when you want to hurt the ones you love. It’s like, when someone is so cute and funny that you want to pinch their cheeks and then maybe slap them. Little boys on playgrounds are champs at affectolence, it’s the only way for them to express their feelings to little girls.

So, remember: Passaggrive and Affectolence/Affectolent. Add them to your spell check dictionary today.

You know, I don’t even watch this show. I tried to watch it with the Sweet Pea once… it’s kind of annoying. But, that doesn’t mean that James Dobson, founder of Focus on the Family, and all of his ilk, is not a total and complete idiot. He’s a sponge!!! A cartoon sponge! How can he push the gay agenda? Exactly what is the gay agenda? Remind me, because I think I forgot.

You know, when I was a kid, you didn’t see people running around worried that Snagglepuss was going to turn us gay. Do people, [and by people I mean the geniuses who are protesting a video of cartoon characters singing We Are The Family, promoting tolerance, because they think it teaches kids to be gay] have too much time on their hands? Why aren’t people just laughing in their faces? I don’t see how anyone could ever take James Dobson seriously again. The man is a paranoid loon. I’d like to demonstrate a serious lack of tolerance towards him.

I’m speechless with amazement at the stupidity of it all.

link #1 article by CNN

link #2 wearefamilyfoundation.org

link #3 the man himself, James Dobson, explains how he is protecting children. *snort*

The other morning, while I was getting ready for work, I had the radio on. I heard an ad for Tylenol Flu medication. They were giving helpful hints, of the Ounce of Prevention is worth a Pound of Cure variety. Example? Washing your hands with warm soapy water, for 30 seconds, reduces the chances of you catching the flu. Their helpful hint was this: teach your child to hum a little song while they wash their hands. That way, they will know when the 30 seconds is up.

So, the next time I washed my hands, I counted. I made it up to 12 hippopotamuses before I lost the will to wash. NO ONE can wash their hands for 30 seconds. It’s unpossible. 30 seconds is forever when you are washing your hands. I don’t even think surgeons wash their hands for 30 seconds. Forget it. Note: I do not yet have the flu.

I would think twice about teaching your kid to hum while washing his hands. The other kids will look at him funny, tease him and call him names. As he grows up, it will cease being weird and venture into creepy. Nobody likes to hear humming in the restroom.