DLand - Ah, the Workman's Comp Form Would Be Great

Great If I had a job description at this wacky place, it sure would be a colorful one.We moved some computers around today in the office and Bossman needed the network cable hooked back up to the wall. He's got one of those wrap around desks and the network jack is in the back corner. Crawling on the floor was not an option given the solid back of the desk. So I had to take the high road. Squeezing my body behind the 21” monitor, I got it plugged in only to lose my balance and fall forward into the hole. I couldn't push off because my fingers were only brushing the carpet but not really touching it. And my knees were on top of important papers on the desk, not giving me much traction. Bossman: “Uh, are you okay?” Me: “I sink I'm schtuck.” Bossman: “What?” Me: (pushing face off of wall) “I said, I think I'm stuck!” Ass in the air and feet swinging off the edge of the desk, my entire torso had slipped down and was pressed between the desk and the wall. Bossman: “I would help, but I'm not sure what I can grab hold of safely.” He grabbed the cuff of my overalls, pulling my leg off the desk and leaving me balancing between my left knee on the desk and my left cheekbone up against the wall. I was starting to sink into the hole. Bossman tugged the hammer loop on my overalls trying to get me out but that loop is on my left leg - the one keeping me on the table. I was laughing so hard at this point that I could barely breath and was definitely falling into the hole where I would never get out. My main concern was falling on the UPS and killing power to the machines (as opposed to killing myself). Somehow I managed to get my fingers up against the back of the desk. I then pushed my face up against the wall and started creeping back out. The whole time listening to Bossman behind me warn “you're going to break my speakers ... oh, my god, the Mountain Dew ... oh, good grief.” This is why I don't where skirts to work very often.

DLand - Booze and a Crystal Phallis

“It's the 1 percent fringe society members that don't want to be part of society.”- Vincent Cannito, Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department

When I wake up at 1:30am after drinking half a bottle of mead and several beers, my mouth makes me think I spent Saturday night licking the litter box rather than drinking and schmoozing. Jerome and Tina were in town this weekend and I got to hang out with them for a bit. Most of my Saturday was spent moving (still ... again ... whatever). When Jeremy called at 5:30 to invite me to dinner, I was covered in cut grass, sweat, dust and whatever stuff was in the fridge that should have been thrown away long ago and definitely shouldn't make the trip to the new house. By 7, I had moved the last of my stuff from apartment to house and had managed to find clean underwear and toiletries enough to look presentable for the evening. We had some scrumptious seafood and mead and a bit of steak and mead and some roasted red potatoes and mead. All very tasty. I'm all jealous of Jerome's mead skills (and supplies). By 8:30 we were all very drunk. Tina gave me a tarot reading (of which I only remember the names of the three cards and that she looked into my eyes several times and said “but there are flowers”). She also gifted me with a two inch long crystal penis. That's real friendship. Or at least I hope that was friendship and not some kinky pagan pickup line. All I know is it was alarming to find it in the pocket of my shorts the next afternoon while checking out at Food Lion. By 11pm or so, I had fallen asleep on the loveseat in much the same position my dog had when she slept on that loveseat - feet in the air and back twisted with head hanging off the side. I was probably snoring. It had been a long day. I vaguely remember being moved to a bedtype surface. I think I still had my glasses on. I just remember waking up with cat box mouth and very low blood sugar and the distinct desire to go home and let my dog outside. All in all, a pretty good evening. Sunday was spent organizing my life and washing the dog (she had found something fun to roll in earlier). My brother is in a state of transition right now too where he might move in with his girlfriend or might not or might move in general or might not. Ah, indecision. So it seems everyone and everything in the GenieAlisa household is shifting. My brother and I are sorting out which dishwasher goes where and how to get my fridge in the house and who needs the lawnmower right now. Nothing is ever simple. Nothing ever changes.

DLand - The Book Was Called "Foolscap"

There was this girl in the airport last night. Woman, I suppose, but it's hard to tell. She was curled up in one of the sets of three seats with her business casual slacks draped over the arm and her not very business casual cartoon socks poking out from underneath. She seemed entranced in the book she was reading, chuckling to herself and chewing on her bottom lip. Looked like she did a lot of reading by the absent way she pushed her small wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and tucked the errant strands of hair behind her ear constantly, never taking her eyes off the words on the page.A toddler was running laps around her bench and would occasionally stop to grin and bounce at the edge of her seat, sticky fingers grabbing the crisp pocket of business casual slacks. The little girl would grin up at the big girl and the big girl would grin back as they both said “book” in unison. This was the third book the woman had read in the past two days. She had brought two on her trip, thinking it would hold her but had finished them before she landed in Columbus the day before. This third novel had been purchased out of desperation for something to read during the long layover. The first book was a graphic novel (a “picture book” as her boss called it) but it had text and an ISBN so I thought it should count as a book. That was finished before she even taxied to leave on Wednesday and the second one was a small novella of sorts that was a bit on the dark side. She seems relieved to be reading a humorous novel again (a very humorous novel given her demeanor and grin). Maybe this is what graduate students look like. I know too much about librarians to believe what you see in “The Mummy,” but maybe graduate students have this ability to read six books a week and nod their heads emphatically at no one in particular while perusing obscure references in obtuse novels and plays. I never fancied myself much of a reader compared to others I know. But I have been reading a lot more lately. Maybe I could go to grad school and perfect the look. No, nevermind, shut up. Perhaps I could just look like a grad student but not actually take classes and just read all the good books. It wasn't until I looked up from my novel and noticed my glasses sliding to the end of my nose (again) and my cartoon socks swinging over the edge of the chair that I realized I may already have.