7.29.2002

I'm suing people. That's right. Two people:



Kelly, for picking her nose in public. And


Persa, for eating my dog.


I need you (yes, you) to go read each side and vote for me...er, the one who's right.


Also, if you didn't listen to Crushing Krisis during the blogathon go download his songs, they are beyond awsome.
The Blogathon went sooo great. I had a blast. TPC brought in half of our goal, which was more then we thought we'd get, and we gave away ALL of our prizes.


Thanks so much to everybody who sponsored TPC, came by TPC and rallied us, and everybody who kept us company. I hope that those of you who couldn't do it this year can next, or that some of you are inspired to come and try next year. `Cause, the more the marrier.


I have a ton of people I'm going to link to from IBOM that I found during the `Thon that I'm stalking. I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I did. (Hey, if someone is good enough to get your attention when you're half asleep and drooling at 3 am, they're worth linky love.)



So now, back to our regularly schedualed programming...

7.26.2002

Hey! It's almost time for the Blogathon! The Countdown is on! A little under 14 hours before we start Blogathon 2002! I'm so excited I can't wait, we've met 250 of our 500 dollar goal which is awesome. (But if you still want to sponsor us you can!)


For those of you who don't know, I'm blogging with TPC this year, so I won't be here! TPC will be giving away prizes every 30 minutes as well as I (me, Skyte) will be blogging to you live from a paranormal investigation.


Pretty kewl hu?


So stop by ok? Check out the goings on, say hi...have some fun. It'll be great.
I just finished a layout for a blog. It just took a few minutes, and it's um..orange...but the person who I did it for likes it. (Yay)


What do YOU think?

7.23.2002

Announcer: Welcome to another exciting chapter of Childcare In The 29 1/2 Foot Century, when we last left our brave Childcare providers they were frustrated with their profession and the lack of protection for Providers from violent clients. Now, we join our heroines as they face their most irrational problem yet...


Yesterday at work started out like yesterday's at work always do. Sunny, warm, little cartoon birdies singing in the trees. (Ok, so maybe not, but it was a nice day.) We only had three kids, so it wasn't to horrible. I was able to just kind of lounge around insted of chasing six or seven kids all over the place in the heat, which was wonderful because I didn't end the day with hair like the bride of frankenstines.


(This post will be finished soon)


7.21.2002

Ok, so I missed the Blogathon cut off date. So, I won't be blogging with IBOM this year, just with TPC, which is fine because I felt bad about leaving Pran in a lurch anyhow. (Actually, she terrified me into not doing it with IBOM, she said something about twine, a stick of butter, and jumper cables.)


So, that's that. Next year however I hope to have better luck pulling off my gimmic with this blog (TPC's gimmic is giving stuff away, which is more like blantant bribery then a stunt, but you got to go with what your public wants right?), which was a damn good one. Until then, you'll just have to live in suspense.


In other news today, the spiders have returned, and I believe they have run off with the big stick I kept propped up on my garage for the sole reason of whacking down their sticky little webs of evil. Maybe they're hiding it until their strange little powers grow to the point they can bean me over the head with it as payback. You can't try and convince me that they're not plotting against me...I've heard the little squeeks late at night, I know they want me dead or otherwise horribly maimed and scarred for life.


I don't like spiders. I don't. More then I don't like ants, and I really don't like ants. Damn spiders.


It's a lovely Sunday outside...I'm not sure what my plans are. I went to Salem's Art Fest yesterday, but someone wants me to go with them again today so I might (I also went to the Saturday Market, but didn't buy anything. I wanted to go see the Highland Games but nobody would go with me, I hate going to things alone.)...or I might go to the river. Or I might just sit here, and sit. Out of all of them sitting sounds the best so far. Oh sitting, how I love thee.

7.20.2002

Just when you think life can't get any funner, it does.



And you just can't help but yell 'Goodie' while looking for something to chop your apendages off.


Even better? I get to go find another job on Monday...I can work all of them can't I? Sure I can.

7.16.2002

There are always people you wonder about after you move on from contact with them. I wonder about everyone I've ever lost contact with, but thanks to a bunch of name calling from people who call themselves 'friends', and putting my stalking abilities to good use. I tracked one down. :)



Yay! After not speaking with him for over a year (Maybe two?), I had the extreme pleasure of chatting with him over the phone (and a bit online) yesterday. Makes me feel really thankful to be able to pick up friendships where they left off, makes me kind of sad though that I still have others I might never speak to again.


Unless of course I stalk them.
I smell like cinnamon...yummy. Today is Robert's (Also known as 'Mom's new hubby guy') birthday. So I, using the ploy it's his birthday, when really all I want to do is decorate a cake, made a very yummy smelling oatmeal rasin carrot spice cake. Now if it tastes as good as it smells, will have to wait and see. So, if I don't ever post again, it's because the cake has killed us all.


Along the same lines, I'm currently looking for victims in my newest scheme. If you're interested, leave me a comment. No, I won't tell you what it is here, because then you won't agree. Erm...forget I said that.



Oh, and for those of you following my whole Blogathon fiasco, I do almost have permission to pull off the gimmic I've got planned. I should know by this evening if I am or not. Woo.

7.15.2002

I was so snottily told in a letter that I had the audacity of putting the wrong date on the last post for the blogathon.



Fine! I'm WRONG! Are you happy now? I don't admit it often so write it down. It's the 27th and the 28th


People. ::snort::


lol


In the mean time, I still don't know if I'm going to be doing it this year with IBOM or not, stuff just isn't panning out. Not for my lack of trying, let me tell you. There is only so much that can be done by bribery and threats though. Good old fasion Mob tactics just aren't what they used to be.

7.13.2002

"Where's the thing to sponsor you for the Blogathon thing?"



Ahaha, see, I haven't signed up yet. Signups end on July 20th, and so far I haven't gotten the information I need from the charity so I can offically sign up. Yes, I'm panicing. No, you don't have to panic with me. If I don't get the information I need by the begining of the week I'll probably either forgo the Blogathon with this blog and do it souly with TPC (Which you can go sponsor! PLEASE!) or I'll find another charity and do it with them.



My gimmic also isn't lining up the way I want it to (which upsets me, I had such a darn good one too) but it still might pan out, so never fear. Your options my little lovlies are hold on to your money until I sign up, or you can sponsor me with TPC, where I will for sure be blogging on the 26th.


Until then...we just have to wait.

7.11.2002

It's the little things in life that amuse me and give me reasons to continue my odd and irratic behavor. I live for this stuff.



I sometimes to surveys for a research company, it's kind of a thing alot of people do now and then. They pay you a bit of money and in addition you get to feel like you're opinion matters. That's not the reason why I do it however, I do it because they swear you to secrecy.


Muhaha.


I can't help it, it's just kewl. I know it's only because they don't want another company to get wind of their products, but I like to think it's more romantic then that. (Yeah, slap me, but you can't blame me! I bet you do the same thing.) I feel like I should dress in a ninja suit and hire some composer someplace to write me my own theme song when I fill these things out. My most recent survey on a product I can't disclose, has now turned into a test of said product-I-can't-disclose. With it was a letter telling me not to tell anyone about it at all.


Wonder though, if I do let it slip, are there a platoon of highly armed (highly cute?) men waiting to break thorugh the doors and windows and arrest me?


Hmm.

7.09.2002

The wedding went fine for them, for anyone who was interested. I'm very (VERY!) glad that it's all over with, one more stress out of the way. They're still on their honeymoon and won't be back till tomorrow sometime. Today is my last day of vacation (if you can call this that) and tomorrow I get to open and run the childcare all by my little lonesome. Lucky me. (Side note, state was here yesterday morning at 9 am on the dot, isn't that funny? They got turned away again because we're closed!)



My landladies daughter came over this morning wanting money, (I had told my landlady at the wedding reception that I had SOME for her) and when I gave it to her, she came back wanting to know where the rest was. When I told her that the agreement is between be and my landlady (Meaning: What is it any of your business, so don't try and bully me) she backed off and got really nice. She said the family is worried because of the landladies health, and because my neighboors planning on moving and all this. (Well my neighbor is her daughter, she must not be TOO worried about what will happen because she's moving. Not that she should stagnate her life because of the building, but don't guilt me because of it, that's just silly.) I'm doing the best I possibly can with what I've got, which is nothing.


So, today I'm going to tell my houseguest to move because I can't afford him there, and I'm going to see if I can borrow money for rent (which technicly isn't due till the 15th anyway) because I don't have it, and probably won't for another three weeks. (Then it'll probably only be 300 bucks...all I've been paid the last three months has been about 400 bucks, I can't live on this.)


However, unless I get the money or find someone I don't mind living with to move in soon, it's looking like I'm going to be without a place to live, and lucky me, I've got nowhere else to go!


I'm sick of this crap.

7.05.2002

I love fireworks.


Other people around me just don't understand my attraction to things that spew sparks and make loud noises. But how could you not like things that blow up?


So, yesterday marked another 4th of July in the big book of Life Holidays. I had a pretty good day, I spent most of the day just hanging out, then I went up to Mt. Angel to watch their fireworks show, which was pretty dang good for such a small community. It was about 45 minutes long. (Yay! 45 minutes of booms!) The place was packed with people sitting on the ground and lighting personal fireworks, and if you squinted just right it looked like a warzone. Bodies littering the ground, big booms of guns and a stinky haze of greyish green smoke everywhere you look.


I love the 4th.


Then I came back, and came over to Robin's and lit some fireworks off with John. I always have a huge stash, so I didn't have to buy any this year, and I even have more left over. Yay. Next year I'm buying some though, because I saw a few I really liked that I don't currently have in my pyro lovers collection.


That strange green cloud followed me home, it was like 'Stephen King's The Mist' but in patriotic colors. I went home at 3 am, and the entire neighborhood in every direction was still covered with this knee high swamp like mist that smelled faintly of sulpher, and in every direction you could see and hear boombs and crackles from other enlightened peoples fireworks.


How could you not like fireworks?


Today the check finally came, so I have to go run around downtown and buy stuff for Sunday, then I have to come back and finish the bookmarks. I can't put it off forever, unless of course I get hit by a car and go flying through some plate glass window and die twitching in a trench.


One can only hope.

7.02.2002

I smell like burnt flowers!




It's not that attractive. I could sell it as a new parfum (snort) ode to crisp flowers. It'll attract guys from miles around.


Right.
I've spent most of the morning drying flowers in a nifty microwave flower dryer for Wedding favors, unfortunatly the fun was cut short when we found out that certain kinds of flowers burn.



Woo baby.



So now the kitchen stinks something awful, and I have to make a trip downtown to try and find the padding to recreate the stuff from the dryer (tight cotton and thick felt) in the fabric store so we don't have to buy it. (It's cheaper to make our own, then buy extras.)



We did, however, get a good 400 flowers done, so we'll have more then enough and some left over. (I want to make candles and soaps, and these will come in handy when I do.) Yay, they come out really pretty too...maybe I'll make some paper and put some of those flowers to good use.



I also have to do a whole other slue of stuff this week, and I'm already frazzed. I've got to go with everyone to get my hair and nails done and get my ears repeirced. I've got to go pick up a second ID, I've got all this food to make, I have to buy decorations still, I've got to do the wedding music, I've got to make ice rings, and do the favors of course, I've got to make mints (I got some cute molds for them yesterday), I've got to pick up cameras, find a video camera to borrow and someone to run the video camera, get the flowers for the arrangements, make the centerpeices, I've got to figure out extra parking, and find someone to direct parking, I've got to write a speech.........................................................a speech! AAAAAHG!




sigh. And to think..I enjoy this stuff.



Anyway, if I don't post often (pppft) this week, it's because I've finally fried my last brain cell and I'm now currently wandering around downtown dancing with my pretty pink tutu on like the graceful little ballerina I am.

(According to Mr.Rogers, everybody is fancy everybody is fine, your body is fancy and so is mine. I feel so, warm and fuzzly.)