Quiz found on :LJ:...
You are an SRCF—Sober Rational Constructive Follower. This makes you a White House staffer. You are a tremendous asset to any employer, cool under pressure, productive, and a great communicator. You feel the need to right wrongs, take up slack, mediate disputes and keep the peace. This comes from a secret fear that business can't go on without you—or worse, that it can.
If you have a weakness, it is your inability to say "no." While your peers respect you, they find it difficult to resist taking advantage of your positive attitude and eagerness to take on work. You depend on a good manager to keep you from sinking under the weight and burning out.
That's really pretty dead on. Scary.
[from sailorjim on :LJ:... originally found by wispfox]
So I'm sitting here in the university library, surfing the web (trying to discover just what the hell did Melissa Joan Hart do after shutting down "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch," if you must know .. hey, sometimes freelance curiosity creates some very odd segues, okay?) and killing time until Dian was free for lunch, when the skies opened up once more.
(For those who are not Texans, God is currently attempting to drown Southeast Texas. Given the mindset of many of the natives, I really can't blame Him ... but I really wish he'd stop it with that crappy "it rains equally on the just and unjust" silliness.)
Anyhow, water coming down less like rain and more like someone flushing a celestial toilet, and then the thunder and lightening starts up. Hugh flash bulb goes off, immediately followed by sound masquerading as a slap across the face ... and the guy next to me drops his head and groans.
So I look over. The guy is just sitting here, head drooping and looking more miserable with every crash of thunder. Me being The Soul Remaining Decent Human on Earthtm, I lean over and say, "Yeah, more rain ... I really picked a bad time to rag on my neighbor for building a raft, huh?"
He turned haunted eyes on me and, after a moment of decision, finally said, "My dog shits every time he hears thunder."
(A quiet pause, broken only by the sound of yet another cosmic doggy laxatives and me blinking.)
I said "Excuse me?" and he repeated himself, adding, " ... and I live in an apartment ... a studio apartment."
Okay, by this time I'm doing my level best to not laugh at the poor guy, but every thunderclap is - now - downright hilarious. KA-BOOM and he flinches deeper into despair. But I manage to keep a straight face (required ability when one is TSRDHEtm) and try to mutter something, anything, supportive and understanding.
Until he shakes his head and sighs, "And, today, my parents are visiting."
(Okay, even a duly elected TSRDHEtm has limits.)
Kymberlie's at it again. It's time for the Summer 2004 edition of Burn It!
Since it's summer time and summer always means big blockbuster movies, this theme is all about movie music, both scores and soundtracks. CDs can either be a mix of both soundtracks and scores or can be either or. Feel free to make a CD of both if you like.
Sign up. It's a lot of fun.
A certain little girl, when asked her name, would always say, "I'm Mr. Andersen's daughter." Her mother kept correcting her, telling her to say, "I'm Jane Andersen."
When the minister spoke to her in Sunday School, he said, "Aren't you Mr. Andersen's daughter?" She replied, "I thought so, but mother says I'm not."
Saturday I had my 8 week cut and color appointment with Erin. She's a lot of fun and a fantastic colorist. Amazing. Plus she knows how to cut curly hair so I don't come out with bizarre haircuts.
Anyway, it was the day before they closed the shop for a week for vacations (Cherry Creek Arts Festival makes it a nightmare to get in to the salon) so Erin asked another one of the stylists to mix up my hair color. I tend to listen to all kinds of things even if I'm in the middle of a conversation.
While Erin was putting the color on my hair and I asked her if she switched color systems. And she looked at me oddly. I said "well, you ordered it differently" and she was just shocked (she thought it was funny that I said "ordered" as well as the fact that I'd even noticed). I guess not many other people notice things like that. She told me a bit about the new products and it was pretty interesting. I got to go in the back room and see the new color board. Mmm, pretty colors.
I'm such a geek.
Found at The Mommy Blog... it actually came from Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Lists. (Click around there... there are a lot of funny lists.)
WHAT I ACTUALLY MEAN WHEN I SAY I LOVE YOU: THIRTY SCENARIOS
BY SHELLEY MCINTYRE
Do you want to talk about it?
You look tired.
Please don't be mad at me.
I approve of your behavior at this moment.
Please stop talking.
You look attractive.
These words are meaningless and I hate saying them.
It's good to be home.
You tell really good stories.
Please let me go to sleep.
I want you to make me feel less sad.
I admire your self-confidence.
Thank you for that excellent sex.
I didn't mean to hurt you.
There is nothing I can do to help you feel better.
Thank you for telling me I look beautiful even when I feel like hell.
I know you need assurances that I feel the same way about you.
I am about to tell you exactly why I am furious with you.
Thank you for being nice to my mother.
Thank you for wearing the shirt I bought you.
I'm sorry I left the back door unlocked again.
Thank you for not complaining that I went out last night.
You have the emotional maturity of a petulant five-year-old.
I know you hate these cocktail parties.
That is the exact CD I wanted to hear.
I know it bothers you that we sometimes say the same thing at the same time.
Thank you for not being an asshole while I flirted with that guy in front of you.
I have bad cramps so please forgive me for not responding to your advances.
Thank you for finally giving up your unrealistic goal of becoming a playboy globetrotter.
Thank you for massaging my feet even though you don't like feet.
Don't get too close. I might bite your head off today.
The pager went off a zillion times last night before I finally turned it off. The dog barked and whined for about 30 minutes (maybe more) before he finally quieted down and I was able to fall asleep. The night operations crew at work called me at 12:45 to tell me that a job was still running (I'd said not to call me, but to just restart the job when it finished if it was after 12:30). I couldn't figure out how to hang up the cordless phone so Brad had to do it for me (no lights on, not wearing my glasses). The dog woke up and barked more. I took him out a few times. I dozed. The dog barked more.
Driving in to work I turned the pager back on. And got ~ 80 pages (some were duplicates because the first one came in with line noise).
I'm going to the dentist today.
I'm thinking happy hour sounds like a mighty good plan. Or maybe a nap. Or both.