Caterwauling

Have spent the better part of the past three hours in the waiting room at the twat doc. Oy vey.

I ended up really enjoying the experience. The doctor, not the “OK, that emerald ring you lost three years ago has gotta be up there SOMEWHERE” part. I tend to prefer male doctors since they know their way around better than anyone, and believe me, if HE couldn’t find my beloved ring, NOBODY can!

I was getting fairly antsy after a while and just wanted somebody — for the love of God, ANYBODY — to examine me. Hey, it was going to be the most activity the ol’ girl has seen in (*mumble mumble*) so yeah, bring it.

Actually, quite honestly, it was the first lunch break I’ve taken in (*mumble mumble*) so I really wasn’t too concerned. After the three-ring circus spectacular (assclowns unite!) that was my morning, it was actually the most pleasant part of my day to have someone impale the honey pot with a metal stirrer. And if THAT doesn’t say something, I really don’t know what would!

Since we’ve bypassed TMI on the coochie superhighway, let’s pull over to the next rest stop and talk about those little wonderful magical pills that those kind of doctors can prescribe to you. I mean, not that I’m planning on falling on someone’s dick accidentally or anything. But, you know. I aim to be more prepared than FEMA in hurricane season.

But the funny part of all this is, shit, I’m 34 years old and have a three-month supply of freedom pills. Do I still hide them from my Extended Houseguest^TM like I had to do when I was half this age?

OK, so there was just this moth flying around in the ladies’ room as I was washing my hands. And I wondered for a second, well gee I know it’s been a while, but do I have moths flyin’ outta my cooch from disuse?

And Lord help us all if that happens when I hit the hoo-ha doc on Wednesday, although spiderwebs are totally in season, and therefore acceptable if that’s what he should find. …

Today’s Gemini horoscope:

Instead of searching for a compromise, you should stick to your guns and push right back when they start pushing you. Their priorities are not in the right place, but yours are.

I have this one person whose brilliance shines over their pain-in-the-ass-ness, but let me tell you, they are the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever encountered. But in the vein of my preference at working with smartasses over dumbasses, I’ve learned to lose battles gracefully. I fight the good fight, but some days you gotta know when to walk away and most days, you should just choose to run away from this one.

Anyway, imagine my surprise today when said individual not only asked my advice, but decided to FOLLOW it. *faints* You know, I’m not any smarter than I was several months ago when we started working together, but the fact that they finally see it, accept it and utilize it, well, that’s what we call a victory ’round these parts.

Another day, another addition to my Dead Sea Scrolls-sized shit list.

Actually, the same assholes are on it — I’ve changed my analyst rating of some from “want to kill” to “needs killin’ STAT.”

Since I just made an appointment with the hoo-ha doctor for next week, I can share this story that’s sort of related to my ass:

Friend: So, where should I put these files?
Me: Up my ass.
Friend: Hrm. Well, I don’t know, because I’m not certain anyone would know to look for them there.
Me: There are so many people up there, I’m sure that someone is BOUND to see them and ask what they are.

I knew Amalah was going to have a baby this week (OMG, check out this wee one. Can you say Teh Kyootness? Yes you can!).

I decided I was jealous that yes, while she had someone up her butt, at least he was coming out. And as Tiff reminded me, the people up my butt? Not so kyoot. Not one bit.

My friends keep asking me when I’m going to post a new blog. I try to tell them that I don’t have anything to say, which they don’t believe for one minute. But then I say, “What I have to say would get my ass double-Dooced,” and they totally get it. Well, those who understand what the term means and all.

I actually heard that term at BlogHer D.C. on Monday. Which, OMG ugh. Can you imagine?

Speaking of OMG, let me give you my highlights from the conference:

1. Spending the day with Tiff. Which, yay! Although I was bummed that The Funky Feline couldn’t come out and play. I did Tweet to her that she wasn’t missing much.

2. Lunch. Nom nom nom. Healthy and tasty veggie-type stuff and fish with a curry sauce.

3. Afternoon break, with chocolate-covered apple slices and a soft chocolate chip cookie. Blew my diet for the first time on that cookie and holy shit, it was worth it! I still lost 2.5 pounds this week, so chocolate apparently does a body good. (And, sidenote to Tiff, diets may do a body good but his girlfriend will always be a ‘ho, no matter how much milk or whatever else she drinks!)

4. Cool-ass swag. Seriously. The sponsors were awesome.

5. The cocktail reception. I skipped the wine (I just heard about 35 of you hit the floor as you passed out!) but enjoyed the butternut squash soup, the crabmeat mac and cheese, and the mini quiches. *drool*

Mad, mad props to the Bethesda Hyatt for preparing food that was fit for a queen but that doesn’t push you into queen size.

As far as the conference itself, meh. There were some fascinating attendees. The speakers were OK mostly; I was sort of hoping to learn the finer points of creating an online experience for readers as opposed to “This is a blog. This is a blog platform. This is a feed-reader.”

One session in which I spent a whopping five minutes did me in for the day. The Internet wasn’t working and the panelists said they’d take questions in the interim. First question? “How do I find blogs to read that I might like?”

*thunk*

Um, other than the fact that you should start at, oh, BlogHer.com since it hosts 30,000 of us, is this what I paid $100 to learn? Jesus Christ.

Out of my mouth, very audibly and yes, very inappropriately, came “Are you fucking KIDDING me?” At which point I left and joined the Geek Lab and talked to others who already knew how to locate their asses with both hands.

I was rather entertained by the fact that the lunch speaker — a Yahoo! employee — mentioned several of Google’s tools for analytics and such. Blasphemy! Isn’t that illegal, to nod to the competition (even if it’s not even a close competition)?

What really surprised me was how many people peered at my name tag (with my real name) and said, “Oh my God — you’re Goddess!” Or the sponsors who saw my name tag and said, “I’ve checked out your blog — you’re the one who fell off the toilet!”

Oy.

Oh well. Beat being at work. There’s a reason why my vacation bank’s cup runneth over. (Well, accrual has halted until I start using my days, so no overflow there.) Chaos reigned while I was gone, and being away for a day was the equivalent of taking off a full week.

I canceled my planned vacation day for this coming Friday because of the insanity. Hope my friends enjoy having one less person at the cabin down in Shenandoah. My sanity is too precious to risk it (further) at this juncture.

That’s OK, though. There is a silver lining in all of this. Of course it has nothing to do with work, but let’s just say I’m working for the weekend, literally … it’s just in six weeks from now.

Lawd give me strength in the interim. …