spoiled chinese girl

AWW!!!!
I can’t talk about this in my normal community since… shhh… it’s a secret! So I’m talking about it here because it’s something that needs to be shared.

I have a chihuaua. No, I don’t own it. Haha. That would be funny. But a friend of a friend just got one, and I’m babysitting while they go out for dinner. Because I wasn’t invited to dinner. Because I’m not cool like that. So while I’m starving since I haven’t eaten since lunch, which was at like 2pm, I’m dogsitting this teeny little 2lb dog. Who is constantly sneezing on me while rolled up in a sweatshirt in my lap. And who insisted on pooping under a table that I had the most horrendious time getting under, because the boy here bought a shitload of home-brew equipment that’s blocking my way, that’s not blocking the way of this scruff of a dog.

But I always thought I liked big dogs. I do like big dogs. But this little dog is pretty cute. I don’t know if I could handle purse dogs though. But he *IS* adorable just being curled up in my lap wrapped up in a human sized sweatshirt. Funnier still is seeing him in his little jacket!

But yea. I’m a loser.

I apperently missed a call at 6pm. I was leaving work. I didn't miss a call, they were directly forwarded to my voice mail. And I don't know who it is. The first 5 seconds of the message are super choppy, and that's when this person was telling me their name. It became clear as a cowbell after this dude told me his name, and was going into “…although I haven't talked to you in at least two years. I was just seeing if your phone number still worked, and oh my god, it does!” and the message finishes off with “…well I'll try to give you a call later.” So… I have a message on my voice mail that states this guy I haven't talked to in at least two years, and he'll call me later. I have no name, and no call back number. Because my phone service is shitty, dialing 5 will only say “this message was received at 5:59pm from an outside caller” and my phone records show no inbound call. And now I'm all antsy because I want to know who the f*** called me and why, and what's up!

Club tonight was fun, small but fun. I went on the ride, and while I did walk bits of it, I did a fair amount of riding for me, even though I'm horribly out of shape and was in pain breathing. I may have landed myself the redesign gig for the club's website though, because the one now is buttugly and hasn't been touched in about 7 years, and the new person who took over, instead of redesigning it, went and got himself a wife instead. Seeing as how I don't have any wifely prospects, I'm the most logical candidate to redo the site. I already have big big plans for it, which include loads of pictures, mainly the ones I've taken.

I seriously need to find a good set of rechargable battaries. It's utterly insane that I could have fully charged the battaries my camera came with last week, left them in my camera but not taken any pictures, then last night turn it on, and it automatically shut it self off because the battaries were “dead” How embarassing is it to be in an art gallery opening full of photographers with my dinky little point & shoot digital camera with DEAD BATTARIES?!? BAH! But my time at elevator isn't done yet. I should be going over on Saturday to pick up my frames finally. I've had promises that they're awsome. And while at the opening last night, I was told that I was a good girl the night before with cutting the mattes and foamcore, that everything I did was right and it fit and was perfect, a shocking and surprising thing to have happened since that cutter apperently sucks. But I worked it good. It just needs to be stroked softly in a counterclockwise motion. And a bit of anal retentitiveness doesn't hurt either with checking the marks. So I did good. Everyone was proud of me. Funnier still was conversing, and having someone say “What? You've been doing all this work here and you're not getting paid?!?” Hahaha. My reply: “Well, I gotta pay for those frames somehow!”

Anyways, I gotta go throw down some general layout ideas of the redesign. I just never know how to word things.

I just got a notification that I had new voicemail. But the phone didn’t ring. And it was clearly on the whole time, and I haven’t been in any dead spots that would leave me thinking “Hey, do I have voice mail?”, especally since this message was apperently left right around 6pm when I was leaving work. Anyways. It’s someone I apperently haven’t talked to in over two years. But when he was saying his name, the stupid message was getting cut out, so I don’t know who it is. Worse yet, the dude didn’t leave a number for me to call back. He just said he’d try giving me a call later.

Who leaves messages and doesn’t leave a callback number? I do even when I know the person has call display. I do even when I know no one’s going to call me back! Well, unless I happen to be dialing at like 9am and realizing after I’m already in the message that it’s an ungodly hour for the majority of the world on a Saturday morning to be dialing.

But gotdamnit I want to know who the fuck just called me!

Monday I went to work, then instead of cheering on Blake @ Much, I ended up at Elevator Gallery to help prepare for the Family show. When I was invited to go down, my question was “Am I painting, or hanging?” Answer was painting. At least I escaped the majority of polishing a turd. Although I was accused of being abandoned for doing all the painting myself when the others went to get “supplies”.

Tuesday I went to work, then instead of going home and taking a nap like I had planned, I ended up at Elevator Gallery to help prepare for the Family show. Thankfully they were happy with the paint so we didn't have to paint again. Although I wasn't going to hang anything, because nothing was ready to be hung. Instead, I learned how to cut matte board, and foamcore type stuff. Everyone was amused that not only was I not a part of the family show, I wasn't even a photographer and had absoloutly no business being in a framing room surrounded by framers, photographers, wannabe framers and wannabe photogrpahers. Although my frames are apperently awsome, and well worth all the effort I put into the place.

Today I've gone to work, then instead of going home and eating dinner with my mommy like I've been neglecting to do all week, I'll end up at Elevator Gallery for the Family show opening. Maybe I'll end up with my frames with my school composite and diploma/degree though which would make my mommy happy.

My guitar will now join the ranks of my shortwave radio and karate outfit in the back of my closet, and I’m going to go watch TV, because Mr. Simpson is right. If something’s hard to do, its not worth doing! Apperently the original line also mentioned a unicycle in the list of things Bart couldn’t do (*shrug* I never noticed it before) but since I can actually unicycle, it’s staying out. Then again, this “original quote” also said that these items should be put in the garage. When I’m sure they were supposed to go to the back of the closet.

Okay, not really. But I’m all depressed that I can only remember how to play one song, and not even well. Yay open chords! My fingers hurt, and it’s nearly impossible to play with one of those silicone livestrong imitation bracelets on your right wrist. But it feels stupider on my left wrist. Thus, I play like an idoit.

Okay guitar. Back under the bed you go!

Okay not really. But I’m just going to continually become more and more frustrated because whatever strange B chord my sheets are telling me, doesn’t sound like anything musical at all. Who’s bright idea is it to put 7 dots on a tab with an instrument that only has 6 strings, when there’s only 4 available fingers to play them with?!? (Okay it’s not 7 dots, it’s like 5. but still)

This almost makes me want to dust off my piano.

Almost.

(i.e. give me another 2 weeks and I’m sure I will just because!)