This is what I got. Which is creepy. Is there a name double of myself avoiding taxes, or WHAT? Or, is my name a sort of euphemism for 'Tax Evasion = is wrong!" Is there an educational video out there, with my name, saying, "Don't do what Sarah did! Look! Her wages were seized and now she's going to spend the next ten years paying back the IRS. Sarah; did you realize your lesson?" And of course, my exact double would reply, "I sure did. Boy, I wish I'd known not to evade my taxes before. And that Joe D. was bad news."
Tuesday, December 4, 200101:10 a.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
..::: - & - :::..
Vote today for the undefinable cookie blob!Vote for a new cookie shape. Personally, I'm partial to the Penguin. The Koala isn't too bad -- only it looks as if its been caught in a lewd act with a tree. The Walrus is odder. Its like they played around with the cookie making machine and ended up with a blob of misshapen dough. These cookie makers, later on at night, perhaps gathered around a table, eating Chinese food and reminiscing on the day, when suddenly, Charlie from Boxing piped up and said, "So, is the Walrus going to be one of the new shapes?" The cookie makers might've looked quizzacally around until their gazes might've fallen onto their deformed cookie. Slowly, they could've nodded, and replied, "Walrus..?? Yes.. Walrus.."
Which reminds me, I'm thinking about adding more photos soon.. possibly after I finish up a few more projects. Upcoming: family portraiture. (Mom's is planned for in front of the freezer, of course. Maybe holding a jar of preserves destined to be unthawed from under a glacier 17 million years from now.)
Monday, December 3, 200109:05 p.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
..::: - & - :::..
Things, that right now, are freakin' me out JUST A LITTLE.
First of all, how scary is it that Brad has an entire collection of porno music? Not movies. MUSIC. As in, "oh, those fake drumbeats are making me hot." God. My family is so weird. We could be a sitcom. If my parents didn't drink, Brad didn't crossdress and I didn't save up all family-related incidents for the future therapist I'll develop an obsession for.
Which means, we're going to be a CBS drama, baby! I'm sure I could figure out an entire script. I could send it to David E. Kelley. I could make my character a lawyer. Like Ally McBeal. But less skeletal.
Second thing thats, well, not so much scary as "cruisin' for a bruisin'" (my mom's colourful euphemism for beating the crap out of me. Aw. Feel the love.), is this damn server. Stupid, stupid server. Its not working at all. Or, it working sporadically. Which is much more annoying.
Its 'driving me to drink'. Another euphemism. How quaint.
While on the topic of my mom's not-so-hidden-drinking (or not), let me tell you guys about the sandwiches. Oh, yes. The SANDWICHES. For my Nan's birthday party, she ordered two huge trays of those rather disgusting tea sandwiches. The ones that consist of ground up fish products mixed with maraschino cherries and olives between two pieces of perfectly cut, crustless pieces of white bread. They're about 3 inches wide, 5 inches in length. Mostly found at old lady functions, church teas, and in Hell, where I'm sure Satan forcefeeds them to bad, bad full-size sandwich eaters. (Those of you who frequent Subway... bewaaaaare.)
So, anyway, I'm not sure who really enjoys said sandwiches -- obviously not even half the people attending the party on Saturday. So we had about 1 and a half trays left over; the meagre result of much pity eating. We get home with one complete tray, having pushed the other one off on the defenseless seniors, who being the age that they were, probably enjoyed them anyway. (Read, Timmy McPage beat down Hester Walter with his walker to get the last egg salad and jam sandwich.)
My mom takes the aforementioned left over tray, places them into tupperware containers, and PUTS THEM IN THE FREEZER. I've mentioned this before. Her freezer obsession. We have piles of tupperware piled up in our freezer. Its a former dinner cryogenic freezing centre. Half-eaten turkeys are paying money to be placed there, and unthawed in a time when turkeys rule the earth with iron fists. (Feather uhm, hands? Dunno.) Cookie dough, made in 1998; broccoli, frozen for FRESHNESS (which can't make sense when its been in there since 1988.); and now, tea sandwiches, which will be unthawed for my FUNERAL.
My mom, assisted by mechanical life support, will be passing around sandwiches before my open casket offering thanks for condolences with a, "have an unfrozen sandwich. Sarah would have wanted it that way."
I've been given the task of making supper tonight.. so it'll probably be something from a can. Despite my cooking disability, I still hold much pride in the fact that at least I don't use water to cook Kraft Dinner. Unlike some fascist aunts I can think of. Who live in Regina. On a farm. And are named Isabel.
For those of you, who are unforgivably ignorant in the ways of macaroni and cheese, let me sum up: water is EVIL in terms of cheesy pastas. If Macaroni and Cheese were a community who knew the differences between right and wrong, Water would be the feared Devil and Milk would be God. They would praise Milk. And his messenger Margarine. (Or Butter, according to some theology texts.) Water + Pasta = nonono, hell, damnation, etc, etc.
Sure, when you're boiling it, you use water. But afterwards, when you're adding the chemically created cheese thats probably an orange version of Soylent Green, use milk and margarine. Not water like some mean aunt once did. I couldn't even look at it. I had to avert my eyes and eat a carrot for dinner.
Actually, I'm probably going to be making burgers and fries for supper. I'm actually going to make them, too. As in, cook them. And uhm, whatever else one does to.. burgers. I'd make milkshakes, but I think I should take it one step at a time. I wouldn't want to repeat that whole "lets salt the frozen steak" episode again.
Oh, and on another topic change: Alicia and I are discussing making a video of ACT III of Hamlet. You know.. the one where the magic chickens dance around in lingerie and give praise to Polonius, the Chicken God. Or, that could have been an episode of the Muppet Show. Dunno. Anyway, I'm lobbying to be Polonius. Thats right. Because I think I've got the whole "man-thing" down. I've already decided on his accent.
I'm going to be Sarah Sovereign as Sean Connery as Polonius.
As in, "Hi, I'm Shean CONnery, and I'll be playing POlonius in Shakeshpeare'sh 'Hamlet'." If that made sense. Maybe I'll upload an audio clip...
Monday, December 3, 200104:46 p.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
Sunday, December 2, 200107:03 p.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
..::: - & - :::..
So it doesn't shout Christmas. Bite me.
I decided to scrap the whole elves idea. It got a little too red and green. And I'm entirely prejudiced against that colour scheme. And I don't know if you've noticed, but elves are scary. They have both the ability to sneak into your house and fix your shoes, AND bite your kneecaps. I think, personally, that that would hurt.
So, anyway, in regards to some sort of layout explanation; I opted for sort of a fantasy theme. Plus, I was sick of the lack of colour, so I added more greens and yellows, etcetera. In terms of elves again, though, I might =even= make a seperate page for those scary creatures. I'm not sure though. This day has turned me into an unthinking, vacuumous, uhm, human vacuum. With obviously excellent writing and communicating skills. Yep. Lots and lots of uhm, verbs and stuff in my uhm, vocabulary. Descriptive words. Y'know what I mean.
So, yeah.
This is the first layout I've made in a long time that I actually like, so lets hope it stays up for awhile. I'm going to go crash for awhile guys. Today has somewhat.. bitten. Hard.
Sunday, December 2, 200106:51 p.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
..::: - & - :::..
okokok.
I figure, if I can't think of anything whatsoever for this page.. maybe I'll start from the beginning. Sooo, I'm going to take a pita template, and mess around with it, in the hopes that maybe I'll be inspired. Or get tired and have a fairly nice layout that I can leave for awhile. I dunno. Like I said, complete design dead end. I promise too that after I finish this redesigning stuff I'll be more interesting.
Yep. Right now, I'm as boring as toast.
WITHOUT BUTTER.
Sunday, December 2, 200101:54 p.m.
listening to; Strong Enough / Sheryl Crow
reading; The Lunatic Cafe / Laurell K. Hamilton
..::: - & - :::..
Wisdom: When contemplating redesign, ensure you take your lower lip and stretch it over your head to the back of your kneecaps. Then watch t.v. instead.
