So, where am I?  At work at the 14th St Playhouse, as usual.  I'm rather disappointed in that it's not at Piedmont Park again, this year.  I usually at least get to watch the festival goers pass my windows.  Oh well.

Had great fun at GIDFest yesterday.  convinced me to come in pirate garb, along with her and Tammy.  After doing a quick bit of research, I decided it was okay.  I discovered that pirates pretty much WERE the Continental Congress's Navy, all the ships and soldiers of the British Navy being, well, British.

We had a naughty-pirate picnic under a big beautiful shade tree, joined by and his lovely , and spent an inordinate amount of time harassing the Redcoats.  Though the thing that amused me most, all day, was the taunting that two little girls, about five and seven years old) would do to the Red Coats.  Every time they saw them, they would run up, blow raspberries at them, shout, "Stinky Redcoats!" and run away again, still making faces at the soldiers.  This happened at least three times, in my viewing.

We also watched the closing scenario, danced the Virginia Reel (in which I had to be the guy, due to a shortage of partners), drank far too much homemade soda, socialized with a great majority of the GARF cast and regulars, taunted the Redcoats some more, almost got bitten by a donkey, more-or-less exploded a can of Redi-Whip and had a pretty nice view of the fireworks.

All in all, it was a good Fourth, though I missed .  That's all right.  We'll have our own little Fourth tomorrow or Monday.  We've got lots of fireworks at the house!

Today, work is sloooooooow!  Perhaps five calls in the last three hours.  Dinner break is still three hours away.  Need sugar, caffeine or entertainment.  Or all three.  Why o WHY did I leave my iPod at home today?!?

In honor of the weather today, I'm posting this picture I snapped in Midtown during a torrential downpour a few days ago.  Just with the way the rain and clouds were blowing through, and the tiny glimpse of the building you would see between the other two buildings seemed very mystical.

Yeah, I did not end up cleaning the rats cage last night.  Felt too awful.  Tommy promised to do it today before he went to work, so I gave up the responsibility, for once.

Instead, I took a long bath, which took care of some of the cramps, but not the main complaint.  I was still pretty ill as of waking up this morning.  I haven't had any trouble since coming to work, but my intestines feel all weird.  Also forgot my water bottle: shitty.

I brought along a box of ginger-mint tea to dose myself through the day.  I REALLY hate being sick.

Long day, today, noon to nine, and it promises to be slow until show time, around six.

I saw this in the lake at Piedmont Park the othe day, and just had to take a picture.  Why take a picture of nasty bubbles in a green, putrescent lake?  Come on, children of the eighties and Henson-lovers, say it with me: NO!!  NOT THE BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH!!!

 
Not exact, but damn close!

I don't know what has gotten into my system, but I am one unhappy camper today.  Nausea, stomach cramps that won't let my leg-to-trunk angle go greater than about 150 degrees (making walking upright extremely difficult), and I don't even want to guess how many times I've had to run down to the lavatory today.  At least I'm getting my exercise, the bathroom is down two flights of stairs, and I DO NOT trust that rickety old elevator.

Needless to say, any active time-wasting I was going to do at work today, like letter writing or a craft project have been set aside today.  I'm going to curl up on my chair, pray nobody calls, read my book and occasionally poke at the Falling Sand Game until it's go home time.  So much for the plan of going running tonight.  I think I'm going home, perhaps putting laundry away, and curling up in bed.

Adding to my misery is the fact that, with my cut hours, I did not make enough the last few weeks to pay my bills.  Not just not enough to live on, not even enough to pay all my bills.  This is before even counting things like gas and food.  The sad thing here is that I only need $233 a week to pay my bills.  Yes, I didn't even make that either week the last two weeks.
*sigh*
I'm a month or two ahead on my car payments, so I can defer those a while if necessary, and I guess I MIGHT be able to squeeze out the minimum payment for my credit card, but where gas, my new MARTA pass and the patch for my car tire is coming from, I've got no idea.  I'm really loathe to put anything on the credit card (which I've been desperately trying to pay down for a year, now) but it may be necessary.
Just have to float along until August.  Then Altar Boyz starts, and Equity pay kicks in, and I can pay up everything that needs to be paid, and kick that credit card's ass, to boot!
'Xcuse me.  time to run downstairs again.
kill me now

I had a horrible night last night.  Not last evening.  Last evening was good.  Tommy and I put up the shelves for the "window boxes" on the porch, I played some more FFI (take THAT, Tiamat!) and Tommy made REALLY good burgers for dinner.
No, the problem was bedtime.  I couldn't get to sleep.  An hour and a half after I went to bed, I was still staring at the clock.  And again an hour and a half later.  I must have dropped off for a few minutes at some point, because I don't remember Tommy coming to bed, but I was awake at 3:26, 4:39 and 5:40.
The little bit of sleep I did get?  Was broken up by nightmares.  Killer sharks got into Sealand and were eating all the baby Orcas (Yes, I know Orcas are pretty fierce in their own right).  My dad was mad and disappointed at me for not getting the plumbing fixed yet.  Vague uneasiness about the Vashta Nerada (damn you, Doctor!).  Some asshole bureaucrat looked at my old transcripts, decided I hadn't passed American History and dragged me back to high school.  And somehow there were all interconnected.

Actually that last one is based on real events in my life.  My family moved from Minnesota to North Carolina between my 9th and 10th grade years in school.  My Senior year, some jerk in the transcripts office decided that since I hadn't passed their 9th grade social studies, I couldn't graduate unless I took it.  Hmmm, lets see: I was in the top 5% of my class, took nothing by AP, Advanced and 4th year series classes, had passed AP European history with FLYING colors the year previous, and this idiot thinks I "skipped" 9th grade social studies because I couldn't handle it.  So, two weeks into the year I was yanked out of my chorus class, which I was really enjoying, and dropped into remedial 9th grade social studies.  While I was not at all pleased, at least the class managed to be amusing and boring at the same time.  And of course, laughably easy.

At any rate, shitty night last night, I'm craving chocolate and/or ice cream today, but all my chocolate is at home.  Couldn't even sleep on the bus, as the guy I was sitting next to thought he deserved half my seat, as well as his, and the guy behind us wouldn't shut up on his cell phone.
Also, managed to shut up crazy-train-person on MARTA for a while this morning.  He was pontificating loudly, on Lady only knows what subject, so I stared at him to be entertained.  He asked, loudly, what I was staring at.
"You."
"What you starin' a' me fo'?"
"Because you're talking.  Loudly."
"That's a goddamn lie!"  And then he ceased talking for two stops.

At this point, I think it's something like ME: 5, CRAZIES: 0

And, of course, today's photo:

This is the front lawn advertising for a massage parlor just down the street from my job.  I'm terribly amused by it.

The joy in taking the initiative and doing something not in your job description, voluntarily, is that you can stop whenever you want.  I've been cleaning the box office, and I've decided I'm done and don't want to do any more today.  And I CAN decide that!

So, Phouka has been...well, Phouka, lately.  The other night, Tommy said, she ate a scorpion that was in the bathroom, before he could stop her.  Apparently it was eaten with great relish and smacking of chops.  As the crazy coyote seems to be suffering no ill effects from this little adventure, all I can say is, "Good puppy!  You saved Mommy!"

Yesterday, when I took her out, I didn't see the little marmalade cat at the foot of the porch stairs.  She did.  She took off like a shot after that cat, tearing the leash from my hands.  But, the leash caught on the porch!  Saved?  No.  She broke the leash like it wasn't even there and was gone into the front woods.  I heard her flailing around like an octopus in it's death throes, and here came the cat that started it all, walking calmly out of the woods, across the driveway and into the tall grass on the other side.

Informing Phouka that the cat had outsmarted her and was long gone, did not bring Phouka back into the house.  She continued to flail around a while longer, then shot across the somewhat open space we laughingly call the front yard, up the path into the back and was GONE.  I have to say, that dog can move when given the opportunity!

After about ten minutes with no sign of her, she finally heard me calling and trotted calmly back into the house, where she promptly flopped down over the air conditioning vent and ignored all the strife she had caused.

This adventure necessitated a trip to PetSmart where we purchased a heavy duty tie-out line, instead of the retractable leash we had been using, a new, thicker collar, just in case, and easier to read pet tags.

There have been no further incidents, today.  To my knowledge.

And I know I've been remiss in posting random photos, so here's one I took on my porch the other day.  It was dusk, heading into night, and everything was turning grey.  Except this one wind chime.  It must have been catching all available light to be glowing like this!

I LOVE this color.