hay-o

Can Keith get a what what?

sewing

Ok, here is my newest idea of how I'm going to pass my time. Sewing. I know how to sew, as I did sew the single greatest dress to ever be worn at a Cashmere High School winter ball. I do a little hand sewing in the form of finishing homemade pillows, hemming pants and sewing on buttons. However, I always have to get someone to thread the machine for me, put the bobbin in etc. I kinda suck at the mechanical stuff. I want to sew myself an outfit. Clearly it will be a paisley pantsuit. Most likely in a shade of pink or teal. I think I might look into taking a class, but I would have to have a sewing machine for that. So I might look into getting a used one or something. Ok thats all. Sewing.

my man

KJW has informed me that the love of my life (or at LEAST my Halloween hookup, as she has called him) awaits me in a bar in West Seattle slinging tunes for karaoke. I will gussy myself. I will wear my sweatpants (ooo almost let the costume slip) and other garb and I will impress him. I will be Mrs. Joe Karaoke by years end!

sunday bloody sunday

Today was pretty much the best Sunday ever. Woke up, a tiny bit hung over (that was not part of the best Sunday ever) at about 10:00. Drug my ass out to the couch and proceeded to lay there for the entire day. I stood up and cleaned, cooked a little, and organized the apartment. It was nice. I'm still wearing my pajamas as a matter of fact. I did put on a sweatshirt though when I got a little cold. I watched two seasons of sex and the city, and a disc of arrested development. It was so pleasant. I really don't want to go to work tomorrow, even though all the big wigs won't be there so it should be a really chill next few days. The anxiety will come back though I'm sure. I still need to find someone to pick me up from the car shop and I need to learn how to ride the bus to work ... maybe thats what I should have done today.

hearts

Oh goodness, I'm glad that my super liberal boss can still impart her super liberal funnies on me from the east coast:

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

I'm in the mere for the weekend. Doing the Oktoberfest thing, should be a good time. Beer, boys, baclava, NO bratwurst though. Unless they make soy/tofu/veggies brats which I'm pretty sure they don't do in the worth. Anywho, pumped about all the beer and getting the rest of my stuff to get back to the little apartment in the ham. Other than that, not much is up. Work is a little boring lately, I know its going to pick up soon though ... oh well

That is all, please laugh at Sarah Palin with me

post office

So, everyday at work I have to go on errands. At first I found them to be a giant waste of my time, now I find them as amazing because I get to go outside and waste time around downtown ... I mean work really hard. One of my errands is going to the post office. I go there to empty the full PO box, pay for weird mail we can't do at the office and get certified mail ... certified. The same man stamps my certified mail everyday and I love him. Apparently he had a stroke a couple years ago and now does not hear or speak very well. He always waves me up to the front of the line and stamps my mail, makes some silly joke and then winks at me when I leave. I love him. The other day some rude boys were making fun of him in line ... no they di'uhnt! I felt a strong surge of motherly instinct to punch them in the throat with one hand, and balls with the other. I did neither but I seethed quietly to myself and then gave them dirty looks when he waved me to the front ahead of them. People are mean. My affinity for him may be heightened because of my own family history with strokes. Being that I never knew my grandmother pre-stroke, I only knew her with limited speech, and mobility I totally get the stroke thing. STILL, he's my little friend. I heart him.

Post Turtle

While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75-year-old Texas rancher whose hand was caught in a gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Sarah Palin and her bid to be a heartbeat away from being President.

The old rancher said, 'Well, ya know, Palin is a post turtle.' Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a post turtle was. The old rancher said, 'When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a post turtle.'

The old rancher saw a puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain. 'You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, she doesn't know what to do while she is up there, and you just wonder what kind of dumb ass put her up there to begin with.'