Stolen from Menley Nin

Career meme

1. Go to Career Cruising,www.careercruising.com

2. Put in Username: nycareers and Password: landmark.

3. Take their "Career Matchmaker" questions.

4. Post the top twenty results

My results:

1.
Logistics Specialist

2.
Medical Secretary

3.
Gunsmith

4.
Cartographer

5.
Dental Lab Tech

6.
Health Records Professional

7.
Upholsterer

8.
GIS Specialist

9.
Bookkeeper

10.
Picture Framer

11.
Manufacturing Machine Operator

12.
Furniture Finisher

13.
Administrative Assistant

14.
Telephone Operator

15.
Bank Teller

16.
Tailor / Dressmaker

17.
Postal Clerk

18.
Quality Controller

19.
Air Traffic Controller

20.
Electronics Assembler

21.
Purchaser

22.
Cabinetmaker

23.
Printing Press Operator

24.
Machinist

25.
Computer Network Specialist

26.
Tool and Die Maker

27.
Ship's Crew

28.
Bicycle Mechanic

29.
Carpet and Upholstery Cleaner

30.
Production Woodworker

31.
Musical Instrument Builder and Repairer

32.
Sheet Metal Worker

33.
Mathematician

34.
Humanitarian Aid Worker

35.
Enlisted Member of the Armed Forces

36.
Security Systems Technician

37.
Boilermaker

38.
Welder

39.
Automotive Painter

40.
Vending Machine Servicer

Please, just shoot me now

My shoulder is fucking killing me. I've been using ice, using heat, and taking Tylenol (I can't take ibuprofin, I'm allergic). It's been a week, now. My boss is being great, in that I left two hours early Monday (our busiest day), and I've been spending the past few days doing stuff other than my usual stuff, just because of the shoulder. I have been using my left hand for the mouse and doing as little two-hand typing as possible. But I feel useless and stupid. I hate it. And my co-workers are helping me out, for which I am grateful, but it makes me feel...bad or stupid or something.

Last week, Phil massaged my shoulder. On Monday, Joan massaged my shoulder. Yesterday Judy loaned me her shawl, as her mother always told her that wool helps these things. Today, Louise went out on her lunch time to pick up some Arnica gel for me at the Vitamin Shoppe. Then Judy got me a different chair to use and gave me her mousepad (I'm pretty darn sure this problem started due to bad ergonomics at work here), then she rubbed the Arnica gel in and massaged my shoulder. These are great people, here.

But this hurts and it's tiring and I want to feel better and I want to be able to do my job, and some housework, too.


Would I like some cheese with this whine?

Shark Boy doesn't live here anymore.

Yesterday morning, The Boy and I went to the orthodontist. He had x-rays taken, impressions done, and spacers placed between some molars on the bottom. As we were leaving, we stopped at the desk to make an appointment for his five tooth extractions. And were told there was an open appointment right then. And, well, The Boy and I really haven't done anything spontaneous lately, so we went for it. Ouch. There was pain. And anger. I'm actually kind of suprised he didn't kill me in my sleep. And then there was a lot of ibuprofin and Tylenol, and ice cream, and butterscotch pudding, and yogurt. He was pretty hungry but couldn't really eat anything solid at all, or even anything warm.

Today, he's back to school. I loaded him up with ibuprofin first. I think it's a good sign that all he's complaining about is the pain of the spacers on the bottom (which I still feel bad about, but at least the extractions don't hurt anymore). I've packed his lunch with an Uncrustable sandwich, a banana, yogurt, and applesauce. We'll see how that works out for him. Tonight, we might try spaghetti.

Goodbye, Shark Boy.

VOTE!

Vote for Serenity as top Sci-fi movie.

My boy is awesome

Today, I showed him these 20 year old pictures of me:



He looked, kind of disbelievingly, and said, "that's you??"

I said, "Yes, that's me. What do you think?"

And my angel pointed at me and replied, "This I see as my beautiful mother", then he pointed at the pictures and said, "and this is a supermodel!"

Scene from my living room:

The Boy selects a popsicle and heads for the living room. I put the box away, and turn to find him eating it on the sofa (which he knows is expressly forbidden). Boy sees me see him, and quickly leans forward, with an air of I've-been-leaning-forward-this-whole-time-no-of-course-I-wasn't-eating-on-the-couch about him.

Me: Did ya forget I have eyes?

Boy: Yeah...






Me (earlier, as the boy searched in vain for a purple popsicle, vehemently refused an orange one, and finally settled on a red): Poor orange. Nobody likes orange. Orange is the red-headed step-child of popsicles.

I NEVER thought this would be a mother-son activity

Today, my boy and I waxed our eyebrows together.

He'd been complaining about the unibrow he's developing. So I offered to wax it for him, and he readily agreed. While I heated the wax up, I realized I'm way overdue for my own eyebrows. Plus, I thought it would be easier for him if he saw me do it first. So I did mine. Then I applied the wax between his brows, and he ripped it off.

It was such a bonding experience. ;)