where did the week go?

Okay, so work has been borderline batshit insane.

I say "borderline" because contrary to the LAST time I was going mental over work, things are actually getting DONE for once. It's still nuts because there's been a lot of work to do. Which is why I haven't posted since Friday and why I am woefully behind on Fanfic Author Appreciation Week, which I'm going to be doing NEXT week to catch up. So there. If I haven't e-mailed you back or called you, it's probably because all my computer time's been spent wondering why on earth my stupid code won't work. (And when I get home, I haven't really been up to turning on the iMac.)

So, a quick rundown of Stuff I Would Have Rambled About This Week:

- The frienditto thing... that's why there are custom friend filters, folks. And it looks like there's nothing there on the site now, so I care even less now. Do I HAVE to ask the folks on my friends list not to take my friends-locked posts and post the content publicly for all to see? There's other ways than that site.
- All these "DO NOT READ" lj-cuts on my friends' journals are making me think of chain letters. I'll pass.
- Starting over on the house hunting front, kind of. I've pretty much realized that I can't find a place in three weeks flat like Death did
- WEBoggle is my new Internet addiction. Even if its servers are a bit schizophrenic.

Oh, and a note to site visitors: If any e-mail links point to my mail.com address, be advised that's an obsolete spam black-hole e-mail address. I thought I changed all the site e-mail links to point to the gmail account, but some are still pointing to the old one. Sorry if it took me a while to get back to you.

Work to do, more later. Maybe.

So, got some beachfront property in Iowa to sell me, Bridget?

To preface this, let me say that I had a lovely evening at my aunt's PartyLite party (more of an excuse to see her and my Grandma and my other aunt and my cousin's wife), and the following incident did not set the tone for the evening.

I pulled into my parking space at around quarter to eleven, illuminating what looked like a floating misshapen marshmallow in my headlights. On closer inspection, it was revealed to be Bridget, pacing the sidewalk in a big white coat. Oh, joy.

Sure enough, as soon as I got out of the car: "Mandi, can you give me a ride?"
"No, Bridget" *cough* "it's late, I'm tired and I'm going to bed."
"I need to go to my girlfriend's on Centennial Lane."
"No, Bridget." (Didn't you hear me the first time?)
"I need to get my diabetes medication."
"No, Bridget." (From your girlfriend's house? Give me a break.)
"Please?"
"No, Bridget." I went inside, making sure my car was locked.

I am going to bed now and getting up relatively early tomorrow, and the first thing I'm doing is checking my car for egg stains.

What do I have to do, brandish a sharp object at her and scream, "STOP ASKING ME FOR RIDES, YOU LYING TWIT OR I WILL HURT YOU" at the top of my lungs?

I might as well take my old tape recorder, record myself saying, "No, Bridget," and play it back the next time she opens her mouth.

But it was still a good evening otherwise. More later. Bed now.