the everyday adventures of sabrina

* niqui really wants to blow off the rest of today and shop for yarn stuff.
<twork> s/niqui/twork/ s/ and shop for yarn stuff//
<niqui> yeah, i could s/ and shop for yarn stuff// as well.

so, road trip.

it occurred to me that when harry potter and the order of the phoenix came out, i was on vacation — you remember, the very worst vacation ever in the history of vacation-kind? — and perhaps not coincidentally, harry potter and the half-blood prince came out during this vacation. i must remember not to schedule a vacation that will coincide with the release of book seven as it appears to be a curse.

i’ll start out by saying that only very rarely a phone-call at 00h30 turns out well for me. sure, sometimes it’s the guy who found dan’s phone after he lost it dialing the last number called to ask how he could get the phone back to its rightful owner, but other times it’s someone calling to tell you that someone died, and it’s the latter type that i got early monday the 11th. so i spent monday alternately very upset and planning for a tuesday trip down south, complete with a rush trip to the north side for a pre-road trip oil change.

tuesday, 11h45m on the road for 700 miles. wednesday, thursday, friday, depressing shit. friday afternoon, on the road from south of little rock to nashville. saturday, nashville to cleveland.

don’t worry, we’re not done driving yet.

sunday, watch the white sox play the indians at jacobs field. which is a pretty nice ballpark. had a good time. mmm, pretzel. mmm, the good guys winning.

monday, tuesday, wednesday, laze around at my friends’ place. read half-blood prince (OMGWTFBBQ.) knit some stuff. watch The Incredibles because the kids were incredulous that i hadn’t seen it yet. eat delicious barbecued food. laze around some more.

thursday, hit the road again. 14h30m on the road for 700 miles. WTF? turns out the last 240 miles of that were on two-lane country highways. two-lane country highways that were under construction, so i averaged something like 30-35 mph. that kind of sucked.

friday, saturday, sunday, palavercon. fun time. shame about my overpriced hotel which was not the con hotel (boo, hiss).

monday, dover new hampshire to north east pennsylvania. not particularly tired when i pulled off to find a hotel, but had decided that 18 hours driving (to go straight through) would be a near-criminally stupid idea. turns out, didn’t matter anyways, as after i went to bed at 10PM, i could not sleep at all. got up again at 8AM EDT and lit out, stopping in cleveland to pick up my copy of order of the phoenix which i’d accidentally left at my friends’. arrived home about 7PM, unloaded the car in the pissing-down rain (with a moving truck parked in the way so i got to get extra wet). get everything up to my apartment, change into dry clothes, start going through my mail, and realize i left a houseplant in the car. stomp off in the still-pissing-down rain to the car and retrieve plant, stomp back to apartment. halfway there, hit a puddle that’s too deep for my shoe and, rather than slipping and sloshing the entire way back, take shoes off so at least i have some traction. stomp past moving guys, stomp to elevator, go upstairs, sit down, find a spot for the plant, crash.

fifty-nine hours and fifty minutes of driving, thirty-four hundred miles travelled at an average speed of 59 mph and getting an average of 32.4 miles to a gallon.

i’m thoroughly sick of driving.

really kind of would have liked to have had today off work as well, just to recover.

at least there are only two more days until the weekend.

Home!

I like nyc, but the ret of the state can get fucked. Feh.

Beautiful t-bird.

shameful, shameful edit: it’s not a thunderbird. i’m so ashamed of myself. i did not get the model right. i did not get the make right! it’s a damn buick! — it’s still pretty, though. how can you not love whitewalls and fins?

i’m watching the sox play boston, in red sox territory. on the NESN, natch.

phear.

ObObservation: i swear to you, i am still shocked every damn time i hear a new englander actually talk like that.

Missed a turning, taking the scenic route through northeastern ohio.

Why must the bag defy such a poor, innocent kitty so?

Greetings from Amazon.co.uk,  We thought you would like to know that the following item has been sent to:         sabrina downard        Chicago IL 60605        United States  using International Mail.  Your order #123-1234567-1234567 (received 29 June 2005, 14:08 BST)  ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ordered  Title                          Price  Dispatched  Subtotal ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1        Harry Potter and the Half-Bloo 8.99 GBP  1        8.99 GBP         Sold by Amazon.com Int'l Sales, Inc. -------------------------------------------------------------------                                                Subtotal:  8.99 GBP                                         Delivery Charge:  6.98 GBP                                                   Total:  15.97 GBP  This completes your order.

Dear People Who Make Brecks:

Your “Holiday Collection™ Conditioning Shampoo with Aloe Vera, Nettle, & Sage” makes a halfway decent bubble bath, in a pinch. Who knew?

Sincerely,
sabrina

—

Dear The Entire South:

Sometimes when I travel, someone from the South asks me why anyone would want to live in the North, especially since I seem to like the South all right. Well, I’ll tell you why. It’s because we have winter.

You see, three or four months of everything being frozen does something valuable for the environment and those who live there: it kills bugs. Sure, we have to shovel snow in February while y’all have blooming rose bushes, but then you don’t see giant flying cockroaches in Illinois, do you?

So, the answer to the age-old question as to why Northerners are uppity Yanks with a sense of superiority is this. It’s not because we won the Civil War and then proceeded to carpetbag the shit out of you, it’s because when it comes down to a battle between frozen precipitation and creepy, crawling creatures with antennae, too damn many legs, and carapaces, snow wins every time.

The North Rocks!

Sincerely,
sabrina

p.s. The alligators are also not helping your case.

—

Dear Unmitigated Jackass Who Tried to Kill Me on I-40 E between Memphis and Nashville at Around 8 O’clock P.M. on Friday, the 15th of July, 2005:

Hi. I’m really sorry¹ that you had just powdered your nose before the rain started, but listen up close when I tell you that when I did not speed up after you started riding my ass and blinking your bright lights at me it was not because I didn’t get the message.

You might have noticed that there was rather a lot of water falling from the sky down on the road. Occasionally there were large pools of standing water. You might also have noticed that everyone on the road was driving somewhere between 35 and 45 miles per hour. Most of us had our hazard lights on, because it was impossible to see anything. In fact, I myself could see barely one car length in front of me, and I did not feel that it was in my best interests to drive any faster than 40. And although I would really have liked to, I could not move over and let you drive your damn fool self off the road, as the right lane was full of other people who couldn’t see a goddamned thing (but who, it is important to note, were not driving like unmitigated jackasses and instead used a little something we good drivers like to call “common sense,” which translated in this situation to “driving slowly and cautiously”). When I finally did get a free spot so that I could move over and let you go by as you were so clearly desperate to do, it was absolutely not appropriate for you to continue to blink your lights at me out of spite, as i signalled for my lane change and moved. You are truly an asshole par excellance³.

So, Mr. Unmitigated Jackass Motherfucking Son of a Bitch Shithead,

FUCK.
OFF.
AND.
DIE.

Also? If I had any way of knowing who you were, I would make it my life’s mission to find you and break your motherfucking nose for scaring the shit out of me like that. Shithead.

Sincerely — and I really meant it about that “Fuck off and die” part, just please try (for a delightful change in pace) not to take anyone else with you when you go,
sabrina

—
1 – That was sarcasm².
2 – That means I was lying.
3 – That means you’re a really big asshole, and not even your momma loves you because of it.

—

Dear Whoever Invented Waterproof Mascara:

You rock.

Sincerely,
sabrina

going back to arkansas, then going on vacation. see you in two weeks, apart from whatever moblog posts i may make.

bbc. i don’t know what to say. this is a very sad thing and it made me cry.

i can’t imagine having been on one of those tube lines, packed in like sardines like you always are, in the dark with smoke and screaming and uncertainty.

I know it’s not friday, but–happy now, blair?

it occurred to me that, if someone stumbled across this blog without knowing me, that person might be inclined to believe that i’m an unreasonably misanthropic, hostile person.

well, i am misanthropic and hostile, but not always, and certainly not without reason!

…

i took up knitting last week, mainly because i made a joke about how i should. it’s actually not all that hard. and it’s kinda fun. i’m making a tote bag. i’m told that my new hobby is both trendy and gay. well, screw you, hatas; you’ll be shivering in the cold chicago winter and i’ll have scarves aplenty!

put in a call last week to the U of C hospitals psych department, to try and get myself a counselor who’ll be covered by insurance, so i can see if i can shake off this creeping malaise. i was told to expect a callback “early” this week to schedule an appointment. fortunately, my primary care physician informed me (while referring me) that they never actually call people back and i’ll have to call them back; he says it’s their weed-out process. way to be asshats, psych! i did enjoy the initial phone consultation, though, wherein they wanted to know if i had immediate plans to harm myself or others (…because i would admit to them it if i did?), and if i wanted therapy or drugs (which i suppose is at least good for seeing who’s full of shit).

i wore a skirt to work today, along with cute shoes. those of you who work with me will recognize this as the event that it is. it was a skirt day! and you can’t wear a skirt without cute shoes (even if they are beat-to-hell blue lo-top chucks). also, i need to do laundry.

ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL NEW HARRY POTTER!
ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL NEW HARRY POTTER!
ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL NEW HARRY POTTER!
(of course, mine’s shipping from .uk and i’ll be on my roadtrip on the 16th anyway so i won’t be able to read it until the end of the month, but … the squee remains the same.)

also: EIGHTEEN DAYS UNTIL PALAVERCON! woo!

anyone in beantown want to visit with niqui when i’m in the ‘hood (or, at least, driving through new england and could easily head thataway)?

i totally need to get to the post office so i can send off soap to people. because i’m a lazy fucking slacker.

surprisingly, it turns out that i love my iPod shuffle. i was skeptical of the concept when they were introduced — there’s not enough space, who’s going to want to listen to all their music randomized all the time? — but it’s won me over. it’s itty-bitty, the battery life is spectacular, and it turns out i really enjoy the randomizing. plus, it does fit rather a decent amount of music on it, so nyah. and without the chromy bit on it, it doesn’t matter so much that mine’s getting scuffed already. so, this just goes to prove that even when i try to resist, i’m still steve jobs’ bitch.

okay, that’s it for this update of no-attention-span theatre. thank you, and good day.

You know, I probably should have realized these morons were going to hog all the parking in my fucking lot. It’s taking me longer to park than to drive from fucking Uptown.