Posts Tagged 'friends'

tear :'(

Tonight Hot Lunch shows up at my work looking depressed all Hyperbole style. He is so visibly depressed as to be a hyperbole himself. Hot Lunch is a walking hyperbole of sadness. Like this.

Apparently while swimming today, he felt a buzzing in his shorts. Not a good buzzing, more like an angry giant bee in his pocket. The giant bee was his smart phone, which he had absent-mindedly worn into the pool. It was FREAKING OUT, vibrating and flashing like it was in communication with advanced aliens whose benevolent message of peace was like poison code, too much for its circuits to handle.

Now he is out a couple hundred dollars, MILLIONS of important contacts and a lot of photos of Joaquin and Diego feeding ducks in the park. He is depressed. He tells me the story in a monotone. He struggles lethargically with the library’s computer catalog. He oozes up the stairs to get the books he wants. When I try to make the best of the situation, he says you’re always looking on the bright side in the same tone you would say, “You chew too loud.” When I rub it in instead (eg: “Cheer up, Phonekiller. I know! Why don’t you spend $150 on yourself? Ohhhh…”) he just says funny then hugs me limply and oozes out the door.

On the way home, I have a voice mail from Cupcake. It is approximately 45 minutes long. She is… depressed. Specifically she needs to go somewhere where no people exist. I think she means so she can’t harm anyone. I try to call her back. No answer. Oh yeah, she’d said she’d be out with an old high school frenemy. She’d sounded depressed about it.

I must be suggestible. Or PMSing. Before I know it I have pulled in at Fred Meyer and find myself buying… MARSHMALLOWS. Oh god, someone stop me. Too late. I have ice cream in my other arm. And I am stroking them both fondly on the way to the register. The marshmallows are so soft in my embrace, like a pudgy lover. I throw them down at the U-scan. I feel dangerous. I get a look from the guy at the next station. Yeah, guy, this big bad bag of marshmallows looks like it’s going into a recipe, doesn’t it? But it’s just going in my face. Hopefully with the ice cream. And beer.

Now I am drinking beer and eating marshmallows. And drawing.

Depresso friends, get thee some fluffy Kraft Jet Puffeds. It helps.

Update your blog already! But let’s do this thing first.

This conversation is indicative of why I never get any blogging done:

Cupcake: Did you blog yesterday?
me: No.
Cupcake: Why not! Bitch please!
me: I didn’t have any time! I didn’t have a spare second from the moment I got up at 6 to when I went to bed at 11. I went hiking, shopping, tubing the river and saw a movie. I think I need some down time today.
Cupcake: Down time sounds great! Let’s have some down time by the pool.
me: Umm. I won’t get any blogging done there either.
Cupcake: I’m okay with that.

people with orange tvs, this one’s for you

so my friend the Digerati. over the last several years, he has been my friend, my coworker, my dungeon master, my father on Facebook, 90% of the tech support at work, freaky tall and extra snarky. he has forced us to pioneer one online social networking tool after another, abandoning each just as the Pants gets on board, swearing to her that this next one is way cooler than how lame Airset turned out to be.

he and his wife, teh L, are obsessed with all things postmodern. or at least obsessed with making everything as postmodern as it can possibly be, which i think they know is slightly different but they don’t care. teh L kicks ass at Halo ONLINE while the Digerati sits next to her playing Chocobo on his DS and that’s a normal evening for them. and yes, i know “digerati” is the plural for “digeratus, a member of the cyber elite.” he’s just so awesome he’s plural.

Digerati and L share their technological superiority like the Federation would if unfettered by the Prime Directive: by selling me awesome stuff they don’t use anymore. every time they achieve another step in gadgetry evolution, i get a slightly used hot computer, HDTV or Xbox memory unit¬† at a highly sensible price.

this works particularly well for me because i want cool gadgets and i don’t want to have to learn anything to get them. i am a gen-Xer. at this point, the learning curve is too steep. we just want our i-thingy nanopods to come preloaded with Bon Jovi and Ace of Base and we don’t want to have to read any damn manuals or websites about it. technology should be PSYCHIC by now. Star Trek promised.

so when my Xbox refuses to talk to my brand new HDTV, i cry Digerati. because his job is tech support, sometimes asking the Digerati for help on his personal time can feel like asking a doctor at a cocktail party, “should i lance this?” so i send him an email at work! AND i show how much i already have investigated the problem (searching “xbox cable” on amazon) AND i ensure his investment in my problem by showing him the overpriced brand name item i am considering getting. (just say the words “Microsoft markup” if you want to get the Digerati’s eyes rolling.)

sure enough, Digerati advises me to buy an hdmi cable from! and he sends me a link to this hellish page.

look how tiny the chunk in the middle of your scrollbar is! that list is HUGE! and it has words like “ferrite core” and words that aren’t even words, just jumbles of numbers and letters, like “28AWG.” AWG just happens to be precisely the sound i’m making as i scroll up and down trying to decipher my options.

a couple weeks later, it becomes clear to the Digerati that i have still ordered nothing from his Monoprice, i am still watching nothing more than SNL on his HDTV, so he takes pity on me and WALKS TO MY DESK to discuss the options with me. the difference between all those AWG male-to-male ferrite core thingies? length and color. it IS a man’s world.

me: “why would anyone want all these colors?”
D: “so people can match their different entertainment systems?”
me: “with THESE colors? who has a jumpsuit-orange entertainment system?”
D: “someone MIGHT, e. way to be insensitive to all those people with orange tvs out there.”

sorry, orange tv people. i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. so i am dedicating this Monoprice-page-length post to you. plus the D said he’d help me choose my cable as long as the story turned up on my blog.

i put big babies in people

spent a lovely evening celebrating with a group of librarian friends at the instigation of a couple among us who surprised us by announcing their first pregnancy. i am giddy with renewed reassurance in the good things in life. i can’t think of two people i would love to see reproduce more.

next came the nachos, the pitchers of beers (except for the expecting parents) and the talk of due dates, sex and eventual size. no question there.¬† “I put big babies in people,” he stated with confidence. when everyone’s laughter had died down enough for her to sweetly ask him what he had said that was so funny, he diplomatically rephrased, “I was just speculating that I would have large offspring.”

so gassy

but otherwise much better.  thank you all for bein there.

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first impressions are total bollocks

a while ago, i ran across an old (10/7/04) journal entry i had made about my initial impression of grifflet, who i first met erroneously as the guy who got the job i wanted primarily due to better attendance.  the entry was such a rude commentary, so uncharacteristic of me and so grossly inaccurate regarding grifflet, that of course i just had to post it here for the world to see. :D  (hey, and plus grifflet said i should, so.)

…And the guy they hired… does he actually DO anything?!?  Every time I walk by, he's just sitting at the desk looking vapid.  But at least he's there 100% of the time, doing nothing.  He never calls in to say he's too sick to sit at a desk and stare at things.

i think it's particularly fitting that a mere 3 weeks later was the first of many times i'd have to eat these bitter, petty words: namely that Halloween when grifflet showed up to work as a blood-soaked zombie.  since then i've come to know him as the ringleader of the revolution at work, a kick-ass GM, a generous friend, a scary-smart dude and a surrogate big brother.

i shudder to think of life's near wrong turns and the great things we'd never know we'd missed if we got everything we wanted when we wanted it.

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all dressed up…

are you affiliated with a college class attended by lamassu and annapants and somewhere in the boise area filming a movie set in the 1930s?  if so, then I CAN'T FIND YOU!!!  and frankly, i'm tired of wandering around in the freezing rain looking for a bunch of oddly-dressed students and a professor with a camera crew, even if i do look THIS AWESOME.

do you see now just how much realism i could have contributed to your anachronistic work?  but no, you chose to hide from me.  it's just too bad.  as toasty would say: you. get. nothing.  and see what you're missing?

see that's me searching all of boise for you, silent-movie-style.  are you crying yet?  you are, aren't you?  aww, don't cry.  i made my hat out of a paper bag.  and staples.

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beer: the liquid food

i had beer for breakfast.  it was good.  just like LIQUID FOOD.

according to my girlfriends, the descent into breakfast beering makes me a "guy."  actually i was just a chick who woke up with a cold at a friend's house where i was ignorant of the location of any cold medicine, but very well aware of where she kept her beer.  and i was hungry.  and needed to get back to sleep.  beer fit the bill on all three counts.

besides, according to anheuser-busch, one sip has "more nourishment than a dozen loaves of bread."  beat THAT, frickin lembas!

ah victorians. 

they look so cute and cuddly with their poetic license in advertising.

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how bad a friend am i?

i've got somebody's cd of Fallen by Evanescence.  i don't know whose.  i don't own that cd.  so i've come to the conclusion i borrowed it at some distant point now too obscured by the mists of time to remember the owner.  so i have to ask.  do you remember loaning me this?

ah, how foolish you were, loaning me something.  don't you know i've had grifflet's Star Fox game for approximately a coon's age?  and Piscis' Nightwish cd has been in my posession practically as long as tom cruise has been crazy.  i don't even want to say how long i've had his Wizard People special dvd which, no Piscis, i have not yet watched because i'm too afraid of its iconoclastic verve to watch it by myself so we will need to arrange another dOrange group viewing just for my benefit, perhaps around the time of the release of HP5.

that reminds me.  i gotta watch HP4 again before seeing the new one.  anyone got a copy i could borrow?

i kid!

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you wish you had my friends

so yesterday i blogged about my piteously cold work environment and mere hours later kahaha wahine showed up randomly weilding a hot sandwich for me.  YEAH, you wish you had my friends.  but instead, you really should be thankful for your bowels.

because it was an EGG sandwich.  i am allergic to eggs.  but not like i-eat-nuts-then-i-die allergic.  it's more like playing russian roulette with my digestive system.

but there was SO MUCH LOVE in this sandwich!  i had to eat it.  I ATE THE LOVE!  yes, i ate that love and it was HOT, BUTTERY DELICIOUS even though i knew i would come to regret it later.

so THANK YOU, kahaha wahine, o better friend than me, for your SELFLESS ACT of BUTTERY DELICIOUSNESS!!

and i ended up not regretting it TOO much.  perhaps all that LOVE counteracted my allergy.  not something i would gamble my life on, but when it's just russian roulette with my large intestine, hell yes i'll play and eat me some DELICIOUS EGGY LOVE.

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