X-mas

Ed & Denise took Trish to & from work Thursday night, gave her Niecy Bear as an X-mas present. Friday she had off, & after a couple hours cleaning I let Trish open her father's X-mas gift, cuz I knew what it was (it was my idea): the 7th season of Buffy. Then a few hours later we opened the rest of our presents. Trish gave me the movie "The Wall" & we watched that to punctuate our Buffy. Yesterday we cooked a whole chicken in the disposable roaster pan Trish had bought at Albertson's, & we had a very lazy day watching things, interrupted periodically to place or receive phone calls.

when the Lamictal's in her blood...

Trish had to go up to the ER Friday, with acute anger, agitation & paranoia. Earlier in the day, Karen our Kaseworker (not Krazy Karen the Biggolith's wife or Karen Relationships, friend of Breakfast Cathedral) for lunch at El Taco Loco; we were supposed to discuss MisCon & the motel room. When Karen arrived, she paid for our lunch out of my checkbook & got us back our money. Trish complained this was "like gambling", raced out of the place, & aborted a friendship. She called Dr. Vickie (& Mrs. Vick) in Schnook, long-distance, who suggested having Dr. Huffman write up a script for Ativan until the Lamictal kicked in. Huffman was gone, his nurse was gone; the on-call nurse sent us up to the Invisible Hospital where Dr. Pollock gave her some Ativan as "a band-aid for the weekend" & then had us make an appointment with Huffman as soon as possible, which was yesterday. Dr. Huffman thought the problem was that she was on too low a dose of Lamictal, & jacked it up. He says he hopes some day to replace the Depakote with Lamictal. She just took her last Ativan (noncorean buzz pills) & is prepared for work. Fred will be giving her a ride up, & Jeffer Auss will do it on the return trip, along with watching the Invisible TV station.

Dear Mr. Fantasy:

Dear Mr. Blog,

I've decided to take a few minutes between now & suppertime while Trish is napping, to update Mr. Blog on current & ongoing events in my life. Trish & I saw Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name) on Thursday, & we finally reached a compromise on the cable bill: we're dropping from digital to expanded basic & in the place of the music channels will be ripping MP3s from the web; I discovered this really hot site which'll let you pay with a check--an actual, physical, paper-tial check--so I don't need to hassle with credit cards or electronic debits, & you can burn unlimited music for life for 40 buckadingdongs.

Sad thing is, though, I'm going to need to make some repairs to my homemade speakers. My subwoofer amp shorted out & I can't afford to replace it, so I'm buying some crossover components & am going to be having the 15-inch woofers cutting in at 250 Hz instead of 125, which was where they were at the last time I had in passive components; too low for something that's ultimately not intended to be a true subwoofer driver. With only a 6-1/2 inch woofer for bass, those big speakers sound pretty pathetic.

Cheri seems properly chastised, for her role in the argument over the rearview mirror. I think Joe cussed her out pretty good. She has no business behaving this way. If you still don't know what I mean, read the entry about the bit-cuh. Mostly, she's just envious of my intellect, so she has to cut me down every chance she gets.

Fred will probably be coming over tonight to jam; I called & got his answering machine. I like to play keyboards while he's strumming the guitar & then have him give the mighty Insect Slayer a ride home from work. Walking from McRonald's in the middle of the night is too cold, though we've been having a mild winter.

Lead

flotsam & jetsam

So mostly like, the subject line is the title of the LOTR chapter I'm now reading. Biggolith says the movies are bad because "they changed so much", but he's substantially in the minority. The idea of the title is that I mostly want to write random enumerations, but have used that title before. What's happening? Well, I'm happening, as Huck Getty puts it--if you don't yet have your copy of Surfing the Conscious Nets (by the dread Great Uncle, Timothy Leary) surf on over to www.amazon.com & buy a copy & while you're there, pick up your own copy of The Mind-Warp Era (where Tim makes numerous cameos) which I publised under my pen name, W.C. Leadbeater, the W.C. Fields of occult metaphysics.

Trish is sleeping, the stereo is plyaing Doors, specifically The Celebration of the Lizard, & we're going to Great Falls today with Bryan to see the dentist; nobody wants to take Medicaid in the Invisible City. I'm still pissed at the bit-cuh, but we did get our mirror glued on.

primo bit-cuh

Well, today Trish & I were both kicked out of the Perky Pam Layout by Cheri, who was being a primo bit-cuh. When the bums in the back alley were sleeping in Trish's car, one of them broke off the rearview mirror. At first we thought it was thoroughly gone, but Ed found it the other day when he recharged the battery for us. We'd bought a replacement, & Trish was going to get a glue kit to repair it. I asked Trisha if she knew anything about fixing the things; Cheri said, "It depends on the temperature", so I said, "It's supposed to be 47 tomorrow" & the moron, who never even finished a 4-year nursing program, said, "It depends on the wind chill". I replied, "The reason you feel a wind chill is that it blows away the pocket of warm air around your body; there is no warm air around your windshield, ergo no wind chill" & the idiot simply repeated herself, so I got pissed & told her to shut up. She called me "rude" & kicked me out for the day, then Trish said to her protest of, "I've had to reglue my mirror," "you're not a professional" & Cheri told her to leave, too, just for sticking up for me. Every single person I've talked to about it says that wind chill is irrelevant where a piece of glass is concerned--I guess I overreacted to all my pent-up frustration at the way Cheri deliberately argues 'til you're blue in the face, unless you kiss her ass like Colleen, & then if you complain about it says, "I argue 'cause I'm Indian". I really think the woman should be fired. I wasn't able to talk with anyone at Golden Triangle about it, but will definitely be complaining to Joe. Trish & I aren't going in tomorrow, but for now & the weekend I'm mainly pretty pissed & think that, basically speaking, the woman has her head up her butt.