I know Go Fug Yourself isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but really, you must go look at this outfit.

It’ll only take a second.

I often joke about not being able to tell if something is a belt or a skirt. But I didn’t think I’d ever really have to seriously ask that question.

Today was Derek’s last day. He started out working here as a work study, and then when he went to graduate school, became a graduate assistant with us. He’s worked her for longer than anyone but me, and I’m going to miss him, even if I am glad that he gets to go be an excellent physical therapist.

So congratulations Derek!

I walked by a computer in the open lab, and some guy was watching a frelling pr0n video!

With a LOT of detail.

(shudder)

I freaked out and ran away, and when my boss looked, creep boy was gone.

EW!

EW! EW! EW!

Anyone have some brain bleach I can use?

Several weeks ago, Michael and I learned about the existence of a product that I knew I definitely needed.

So to surprise Michael, I ordered one for each of us. Michael’s was too big, so we had to send it back, but he got the new size this week, and now we’re totally geeked out.

 
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I’ve had a Kitchen Aid Classic Mixer for more than ten years–it was a Christmas gift from my parents in 1996 I think. A couple years in I had problems with it, and they replaced it for free, which was exceedingly awesome.

When that mixer had problems, it was in the middle of making Christmas cookies, and that was ugly. It didn’t explode, it just wouldn’t shut off. So to stop it briefly I had to shove the switch back, and to turn it off I had to unplug it. They sent me a reconditioned one, no charge, and all has been good.

I use my mixer a lot (we got the shredder/slicer attachment, which I like better than my Cuisinart food processor for many tasks) so I have definitely gotten my use out of it. But it’s started making unpleasant noises while kneading pizza dough, in addition to getting warm and making an odd smell, so I decided that rather than have my mixer explode on me one day in the middle of a batch of pizza dough or cookies, it was time to look for a new mixer.

I went to Amazon, because that’s where I get everything (why venture into the mall if I don’t have to?) and then spent a good deal of time debating.

I knew I wanted the Artisan series, but wasn’t sure about the color. My current mixer is white, which is nice because it matches all the other appliances, and matches the kitchen no matter what. But I love the color cobalt blue, and cobalt blue was in stock.

So go with white, which goes with everything, no matter what color the kitchen is? (and right now my kitchen is green, white, and terra cotta) Or get the color that makes me happy?

Cobalt blue won out, so now I get to look forward to a new mixer, in shiny cobalt blue, and who the hell cares that it doesn’t match the rest of the kitchen?

Maybe I’ll repaint the kitchen to match my mixer…

HA!
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As I was reading the comments on yesterday’s post, I realized that I haven’t talked about some subjects that are important to me, and that some of you who have started reading here only recently may not know.

Up until last year, when I dropped out for mental health and personal reasons, I was pursuing and Masters in Public Health. The majority of my classes were gerontology classes, and the focus of my classwork and semester projects was end-of-life care.

And yes, those two subjects are quite often mutually exclusive.

When I discuss my inability to enter nursing homes, this is a phobia that goes back to my childhood. Yesterday’s post was an attempt to answer a question by that wasn’t quite asked by my aunt, as to why I was able to easily enter a funeral home, while remaining unable to deal with nursing homes. My phobia is specifically nursing homes, not funeral homes, not hospitals, and not the ill or the dying. As I said yesterday, it is the atmosphere of nursing homes, and the idea of them, that I am unable to tolerate.

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with the idea of nursing homes, and in many cases they are necessary to preserve someone’s quality of life. I am simply unable to enter such a facility.

Additionally, I wanted to highlight a comment I made yesterday, which is that you need to talk to your family and your loved ones about what you would want to happen to you if you were to end up incapacitated.

This is a subject we think about primarily in reference to the elderly, however tragedies can happen to any time and anyone, and by making our wishes known now. Yes, it’s morbid and depressing, but far better to have a single morbid and depressing conversation than to give our loved ones days, months, or heaven forbid years of trying to guess what our wishes would have been.

So I’ll start, for this is as good a place as any to make my wishes known. If I were to become incapacitated, with no hope of recovery, I do not want to be kept alive with tubes and machines. Medical technology is a wonderful thing, but I would rather time and money be spent on those with hope of recovery. If tragedy strikes, I want to be remembered as a lively vibrant person, not to be kept around as a living memorial to myself. I don’t want the grief of my loved ones to stretch out over weeks and years. If I am gone, then let me go, so those I love can go on with their lives.

See? That wasn’t too hard. And hopefully that will lead you to have a conversation with those you love, with those who will have to make those hard decisions if you are unable to do so yourself.

And so as not end on a dark note…

Two carrots took a day off from work to go skiing. One lost control, was in a tragic accident, was rescued by the ski patrol, and rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery.

After many hours, the doctor came out to talk.

“Doctor, doctor!” said the second carrot, “how is my friend? Will he be okay?”

“I have good news, and I have bad news,” said the doctor. “The good news is he’ll live. The bad news is he’ll be a vegetable for the rest of his life.”

Ba dup dum.

Tomorrow is the first of May.

There is no need for temperatures to be this cold. Freeze warnings that cause me to have to cover my plants are simply unacceptable. Please do something about this, ASAP.

After having to return his for a replacement, Michael and I are now both fully tricked out geeks.

Pictures and and explanation in coming days.

Tanya‘s on Jeopardy!

I’ve been a bit ranty recently, so this is to make up for it.

I got a stats widget for Word Press, and it shows all kinds of stuff, like daily visitors, top posts, and, of course, search terms.

First of all, I find it disconcerting that people are searching for me. Second of all, it says something about Morgantown unfortunately, that people need to search out slumlords (answer for those searching? McCoy 6(66). They’re the worst. And they’re run by the jerk that ran for governor last election.) Third? Well, the third speaks for itself.

ADDENDUM the First:
Today’s search terms?

Top Searches

michelle klishis, slumlords morgantown west virginia, Screeching ‘Mosquito’ RINGTONE

I found out this morning that my letter won’t arrive in time.

Some more phrases from my Latin calendar:

Dummodo sit dives, barbarus ipse placet
So long as he is rich, even a barbarian is pleasing

Edo ergo sum
I eat, therefore I exist

Est ars etiam male decendi
There’s an art even to speaking evil

Eventus stultorum magister
The result is the instructor of fools

Felix qui nihil debet
Happy is he who owes nothing

Esto quod esse videris
Be what you seem

Elephantum ex musca facis
You’re making an elephant out of a fly

I so need to add that last one to my repertoire!