AAAAARGH!

I swear, sometimes I consider going on the Fatkins diet for the sole reason of never again having to encounter quarter sized fuzzy green spots on the loaf of bread that I'm ALREADY TOUCHING.

Yet another reason to fucking hate summer. Fabulous environment for mold. I realize this is a pretty fecking weird phobiaesque thing to have, and to my credit, I'm getting much better at dealing with it (I only drop the offending substance and leap back about six feet or so rather than having to leave the room entirely.) But not at 3 in the morning when I'm half asleep and haven't really eaten anything in twelve hours. Now I'm wide awake (cause I'm going to have dreams about flesh eating mold if I go to sleep right now) and have no appetite, just a wonderous sense of utter nausea.

Thank the gods I don't have to be at work at 9 am.

A treatise on catalog shopping and nerdiness

You would think that browsing through catalogs when one has not the money to order things would be depressing, but my dad got three million catalogs per week and never looked at most of them, so they were cheap entertainment for the Easily Amused, aka, me, so I've been poking through said glossy third class pieces of mail since I was wee and didn't have much expectation of getting the things I was ogling in the first place.  So I do enjoy the vicarious thrills of catalog window shopping.

Was leafing through one called Music Stand this morning - catering to the music, dance and theater nerd - hmm, not me at all - and ran across a really amusing welcome mat. In large friendly script superimposed over a music stand read the following really bad, doublefisted pun:

Bach Later.
Offenbach Sooner.

My other favorite thing? a gray T-shirt stating the "musical theory of relativity": E=F♭

See it's little things like that that appeal to me. My parents were discussing that over the weekend, how Stanley and I were the serious nerds of the family - fascinated with how things work, teasing apart puzzles, knowing a little bit about everything and then of course there's the fact that we're the only people in the family capable of programming any given VCR without consulting the manual. I think the subject came up because my sister was taking her demonspawn kids to Disney World this week and how they really were not excited in the least by EPCOT Center, meanwhile that was my favorite part of the park (and not just for the long gone but not forgotten Imagination pavilion). I think we get that from Dad, who is fascinated by technology - especially when he can get me free for a minute so I can explain it to him. ;) I often think that he's not really listening to the explanation, but just enjoys the fact that I can explain it - often in more detail than probably necessary.

Case in point, we're all in Mom's hospital room and I'm explaining to Dad how Google works. (Dad's never used the Internet but knows all the jargon from reading the Wall Street Journal and figuring out which company to invest in - Google apparently went public last week, hence the topic of conversation. We did the same thing several years ago with Yahoo.) Fifteen minutes later, as I'm explaining what's known about Google's search algorithm, my mother is rolling her eyes and getting that expression on her face that clearly wonders if I'm going to end before the decade does, but Dad is just regarding me with that amused half smile he gets whenever I get going on something like that. "Unbelievable," he says when I finally am finished. He always says that when I'm explaining how something works to him - said it several times when I showed him online banking - but I'm never sure if it's in regards to the fact that all this information has just poured out of my brain, or the technology changing so fast just within his 76 year lifetime, or the fact that his baby's an ubernerd. I never can be sure about that. but hey, it doesn't really matter.

But I digress. I kinda want that T-shirt now. :)

a cranky GIP

It seems like my main thing to do when I'm inexplicably and irrevocably grumpy is to make icons. I swear, I've been in a shitty mood since sunday. Feh.

Anyway, I came up with another icon idea on my way home, and three hours of trial and error and more punchings of "Print Screen" than I dare think about (and on this laptop that's two keystrikes, not one) it's done. Fear it.

And if you want to watch the short film this is based on, go here. (not work safe, but funny.)