The work I do helps make this possible - and that is awesome.

Be a geek like me and follow astronaut Mike Massimino on Twitter.
Space nerds unite!

I am in an awful mood today.

Would it be bad form to walk around wearing a shirt reading, “I’m in a bad mood – don’t talk to me”? It’s not that I intend to be bitchy (much) – I’m just trying to save myself and everyone else aggravation and/or a lost limb.

Some coworkers and I met up after work yesterday to drink beer, eat chips and queso, and play Rock Band. Can I just say that I have found my new purpose in life? I was awesome. I should play buzzed more often.

When I’ve played before, I’ve always sucked and been delegated to singer, which I totally rule at. But last night I was forced to share the mic, and so I tried drums and guitar again, and some kind of magic happened, and I was actually pretty good.

So on the way home last night, I was still in the Spirit of Rock, and was listening to each song on my mp3 with Rock Band potential in mind. Black Betty by Ram Jam came on, and I was nearly overcome by the awesome mental images of myself wailing on the drums on this one.

This is an awesome song anyway – I always picture that scene from Blow, with Johnny Depp strutting through the airport with a suitcase full of drug money.

May your weekend be filled with strut-worthy rock and roll.

I did something this morning that I never, ever thought I would do.

I bought a pair of Crocs.
More specifically, off-brand drugstore Crocs.

I should note that this purchase was under duress – the “30% of scattered showers” forecast from last night turned into “monsoon conditions” this morning. Dear Weather Dude, You suck ass. Love, Gin.

The 200 yards of uncovered, flood-prone parking lot I have to navigate through each morning, and the fact that I’d left my umbrella at work made an emergency stop at CVS this morning totally necessary. (Also, Dear CVS Dude, When a wet and bedraggled woman comes into your store out of the pouring rain asking where the umbrellas are, that is not the time to make a joke, unless you want said umbrella shoved up your ass. Love, Gin)(Check me out with all those obnoxious mental You Suck letters.) There are few things I hate more than squidgy, wet socks – I’d rather wade through ditch water and discreetly wash my feet in the bathroom than wear wet, then damp, then stiffly-dried-to-my-hairy-legs socks all day.

Anyway, so this morning found me under horrid fluorescent lighting, listening to the musical stylings of Michael McDonald, purchasing the most piece-of-crap-13-effing-dollar umbrella and sad plastic shoes.

Harrumph.

If numerous clearly visible signs, nearly a mile’s worth of orange construction barrels, and the giant flashing LEFT LANE CLOSED AHEAD – MERGE RIGHT aren’t enough notice for you to GET INTO THE RIGHT FUCKING LANE, do not expect me to let your stupid, speed-along-the-side-and-try-to-get-over-at-the-last-possible-second ass over in front of me. Do not get pissed off and give me the finger and tailgate me until you have the opening to gun it and speed around me, only to have me CATCH BACK UP WITH YOU at the next light. Under those circumstances, I wouldn’t even let my grandmother merge in front of me – not that that would ever happen, since she’s not an ASSHOLE.

There is a special kind of hell reserved for you, full of narrow, unpassable, single-lane roads filled with old people in Lincoln Town Cars going 20 mph, their turn signals blinking “Fuck. You. Fuck. You.” May you rot there forever, the veins in your head never quite bursting in release to allow the end of your suffering.

Kisses,
Gin

We bought a new microwave last night, after finally overcoming our denial of the slow, painful death of our old one. I finally got sick of banging, unplugging and replugging, and shouting expletives.

I have never been so excited over the purchase of a household appliance.

It's so pretty and stainless, shiny and new and FUNCTIONAL. It is still in the back of my car - J crashed on the couch and didn't unload it last night. I may go out at lunchtime and bask in the New Microwave smell.