nobody here but us chickens

And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don’t know.

37.52 carry on wayward son ~ kansas

(theme – calm)

I’ve spent the month of September as one great big giant ball of anxiety, which started, I think, with the trip to the migraine specialist, and ended with the realization yesterday that grad school is a big fat giant mistake. I didn’t even realize until this week just how UNcalm I was internally. Though outside I was a remarkable picture of restraint. This is me, completely frazzled, having just made the decision to throw in the towel. I didn’t even realize my phone was in my pocket until I was back in the house. (And it was eleventy hundred degrees outside and I was not about to go re-shoot.) My hair is a disaster. My phone is on display. My reading glasses are on my head. But I’m finding some calm. Maybe not some zen, but definitely some calm.


Random Wednesday

Which I totally typed as Ransom Wednesday.

Which gives me ideas.

You may recognize that first photo from Tom Waits’ Ran Dogs album. If you’re a Waits fan, like myself.

It’s not my favorite Waits album, but it has one of my favorite Waits songs on it.

Spies? Spires? Who knows?

Gah this guy’s voice is so irritating. Chop off his head already.

I am just not feelin’ grad school at all, chickens. I don’t know if I have it in me.

I am just not built for this heat. WHERE IS MY FALL WEATHER?

I have always hated September. Also January. And March. Those are my three least favorite months.

Lunch with Pop.

wish i had a head for math so i could

That is some serious bullshit. Unfortunately it is also not remotely surprising.

Aw look at my tiny fridge! I should paint it to look like the TARDIS.

Cos I have that kind of time.

Or talent.

I prolly should just post this tomorrow.

Yes. Yes, that is wise.

My hair hurts.

Seems like it’d be hard to swim in those tails.

Also that video was making me dizzy.

Can someone bring me a Sweetwaters or a Dunkin donut and also a caramel apple cider from Biggby? Extra hot? With zip? I will love you forever and be your very best friend. Kthanksbye

Shut up, Outlook. I do not have two unread messages. Filthy liar.

Why still no eye roll response, FB? Are you afraid it’s the only one people will ever use?

Because you can never hear this enough times.

Who wants to take me to see the National in a few weeks? Anyone?

You could stop talking any time now, and it would be totally OK with me.

Ugh. Stomach. Ugh.

I always want to add an e to stomach. Stomache.

I’m pretty sure I’ve said that before.



That seems like an awfully personal question.


That does sound like a pretty awesome job, actually. I think I’d really enjoy that.

And now we wait.

Yes, I did just skip Evil Woman.

Sometimes a girl just is not in the mood.

I always answered the differently worded, but asking essentially the same thing, questions the same. That’s why I always get the “you’re an inhuman Vulcan with your crazy logic” result on those tests. The INTJ thinger thingies.

“[M]any respondents are making up their opinions – or at least editing and modifying them – as they go through the questionnaire.”

OK yeah. I’m totally OK with that. As far as ridiculous memes go.

Oh I love this house. Let’s pick it up and move it to the Compound. Of course some serious remodeling is in order. That kitchen is tiny and awful. And just say no to dropped ceilings, people.

Evidently I don’t know how to spell surveillance.

I need a cool necklace that I can wear every day that has a hidden camera in it. Can somebody help me out with that?

Here we go. I’d totally wear this watch necklace.  OK, no, it’s actually a bit larger than I’d prefer. I was thinking something more locket sized.

Yeah, I’m probably never going back.

Well maybe I am the Anti-Christ. In that case, I ought to be able to snap my bloody fingers and crush you all. Jerks.

“Tell me what you want to do …” No. Stop being so bossy. It’s none of your business, Outlook!

Yeah, that just seems messy. This is a bad idea.

I love my little fridge.

I need another power strip.

I wish Matt Berninger would cut his damn hair. He looks so much better with short hair.

How the hell did I end up with all these Combos, Allison? You want me to get fatter, don’t you?

now you’re messin with a

general chronic awareness

I do love a good poncho.

I don’t even know where that is.

I didn’t want to go to your stupid meeting anyway.

DEAR GOD stop making that noise. I may vomit.

I’m pretty sure that that is not a reliable test of IQ.

I don’t think anyone has ever called me striking before. So that was nice.

This is not as funny as I was hoping it would be at all.


OK. OK OK OK OK. I’ll just take my evil and go home.


It’s nobody’s fault, no guilty party. We just got nothing left to say.

36.52 guilty party ~ the national

(theme – communicate)


Random Wednesday

There’s an archive photo for you.

Once again, forgot it was Wednesday til I woke up this morning.

At 4:10.

For the second day in a row.

Why is it legooms and not legyoums?

sarcastic pagoda

18 1 11

“Odessa. I tried to keep a clean house.”

I woke up to the sound of a hot air balloon that day.

I never believed that Diane really existed.

I can listen to Nebraska and love it every five or six years and completely hate it the rest of the time.

It’s no secret I didn’t vote for Trump, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t approve of some of the changes he’s making. This one, in particular, is one I’ve really been looking forward to. The ridiculously broad application of Title IX and the blatant denial of due process is infuriating. I’m happy to see it scaled back. Frankly, I think Title IX should be eliminated entirely.

Fancy Med School pen is actually cheap and has blue ink. Lame.

Trust me when I tell you that not everyone you meet is looking for a brief recitation of your current CV.

Literally no one cares.

The Bobbys are surly.

Hey. If a girl wants to serve a cup of coffee in a bikini, seems to me like that’s her business.

Oh God, it’s a staff meeting day.

Pray for my soul.

tiny tiny tiny stitches

magic vagina dust

Who are these people?


I don’t understand whipped cream on waffles instead of syrup. Or even in addition to syrup.

Wait, did I read one of these already?

Why can’t I have a job in political theory? That’s my strong suit.

I don’t like data.

I LOVE almost all of Sleep Well Beast. It’s not as strong an album for me as High Violet or Alligator.

I know exactly what you’re talking about and I take zero responsibility for the total lack of communication on the part of your superstar. Instead of praising her and bashing us, perhaps you should be offerings some criticism her way as well.

I’m soooooooooooooo sleepy.

I know what I want to do with the rest of my life. Stay home and out of the world.

Try to tell a funny story, get taken seriously. Retreat to cave.

Honestly. There is no reason for you not to have uploaded that reading yet. Come on.

I always read light housekeeper as lighthouse keeper.

Wow, I got all sidetracked and forgot I was doing this.


I could totally be elections boss for the state of Michigan. For reals.

el oh el

I love that show. It’s so awesome.


Don’t call it COTUS. That’s just weird.

I have no memory of this person.

I ain’t no

Adult beverages, food, politics. T-minus 29 minutes.

Copy editor at CATO? That’s like a dream job. I bet it pays crap and I’d have to move to D.C.

Excuse me while I cry a little.

Sorry, Knit Stars is just a little too spendy for me.

Also I’m all faded and speckled out. Also brioched. I’m ready for the new trend, thanks.

Are you gone yet? Can I lock this door now?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with Johnnie Walker.


Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop.

35.52 1984 ~ george orwell

(theme – strength)

Those of you who have been around a while know that I suffer from migraines. Some of you know that my actual diagnosis is chronic migraine. And some of you may know that this means that I am in pain every day of my life, and full blown migraines occasionally “break through” that pain to turn the dial up to eleventy. I spent all day Friday at a new migraine specialist hoping for a new direction in pain alleviation or management or something. I think I must have been secretly hoping for a miracle. It was a profoundly frustrating day. One of the biggest problems I have with this … condition, I guess … is that the drugs used as preventatives all come with side effects that I seem to be particularly susceptible to. And so it is with the drug prescribed to me Friday. But. Whatever. The point I am meandering toward here is that when the nurse asked me when was the last time I remember having a completely pain free day I just burst into tears. It has literally been years. Chronic pain sneaks up on your life. It’s so gradual, you don’t notice at first what is happening. It just becomes a part of you. You acclimate to it, so that you can continue to function. You push through all but the worst days. And it would maybe all be fine if the people around you could understand that just because they can’t see that you’re in pain, doesn’t mean that you are not in pain. All. The. Time.  So, strength. I came up with the theme this week. I’ve never really thought of myself as particularly strong. But thinking about that question Friday, I guess strength is one of the biggest factors of living with chronic pain. There’s no miracle. The drugs don’t work. I just have to keep living with the pain. So, no fancy portrait this week. Just extraordinary, superhuman me.


Random Wednesday

I’m reasonably certain custodial is going to lock me in the office again.


OK, I’m in.

I read that as “Locally purchase. Even dry.” That is not what it said.

This guy is a loon. And clearly not capable of complex or nuanced thought. Or any kind of logic.

I still don’t get that one.

What the hell, bus?

OMG Stop saying “fair enough” to everything. You literally just used it 3 times in under a minute. Stop the insanity.

You are a grown ass man. Stop saying “for funsies.”

What a ridiculously busy morning. Sheesh.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy are people so loud?

And now we wait.

Nice try, dude. But I’m not going to do it for you.

Just so you know, I am not actually your personal secretary, and I cannot actually make your students read their emails OR the course catalog.

It’s on page two.

It is, indeed, a bold move.

Photo credit: God.

I think this scanner thing is dying on me. Because why not?

Wait. Is she wearing mascara? She’s like 10!

ARGH. Is it going to bloody rain or not?

Is that a no?

the ghost in you she cuts you up in the silence of your room

The little I saw of that Caitlin Jenner interview with Norm Macdonald was really interesting.

I would run out of glitter really fast.


I’m actually looking forward to an entire day of brain probing Friday. Because it is not here.

Wh. H. How. How is that even possible??

Do you want all these coupons?

Well that’s a ridiculous argument.

Why do I have to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life? Why is that even a thing?

I was going to share a really funny thing with you, but the link only seems to work on my phone. So I won’t.

Yes, pizza. Duh.

No mail. Sadness.

Why are you so bossy? It makes me not want to help you.

want to

I can’t get this stupid app to take this stupid coupon code. Stupid.

I wonder if she’s ever going to

No more mimosas for you, missy.

Why do I have to tell the QuickTime updater thingie to close 47 times before it actually does?

where is my mind. where. is.


The days are stacked against what we think we are.

34.52 songs of unreason ~ jim harrison

(theme – reflect)


Random Wednesday

It’s not “Trump’s America.” It wasn’t “Obama’s America” and it wasn’t “Bush’s America” and it wasn’t any other president’s America. It’s OUR America. And the sooner everybody starts taking responsibility for their contribution to OUR America, the better. Grow the hell up.

Whatever. I knit in public all the time.

Oh France. Bless your heart.

My bangs are only the perfect length for about two weeks. The rest of the time they’re either too short or too long.

I’m reasonably certain I’d have a good 25% less head pain if you’d just stop trying to hide the fact that you’re a smoker by dousing yourself in cheap ass perfume that everyone thinks is stinky anyway.

I hate Doppelcooper’s hair.

I wish this was a real book.

“These days, being called a “white supremacist” is only different from being called a witch in that they don’t even bother dunking you in the river before declaring you guilty.”

Bitches about “anti-intellectualism,” uses tenant when he means tenet.

I really only ever wanted to be one of the cool kids. And that’s just never gonna happen.

I wish I were more likeable, but I’m just not.

I need to quit the internet.

I am not even looking at you right now.


What? It’s a very menacing hand dryer.

Perfect score on the Norwegian American quiz. Duh.

It’s like watching a live action bobble head. Jesus.

I just cannot.

I’ve unsubscribed from so many emails in the last week. It’s awesome. I need to do more.

And THIS RIGHT HERE is why I need departments to notify me of the gorram CRNs they assign to us. So we can avoid these exact problems.

Thanks so much for adding an extra 30 minutes to Stormageddon’s bus ride every day. P.S. I hate you.

I’m so cantankerous.

And also unlikeable.

One complication after another.

I need more dental floss.

I am going to read this book on campus censorship and wave the white flag until the universe stops kicking me.

Thanks, Facebook. I know how unfriending works.

Yes, and that message is “Meat is murder. Tasty, tasty murder.”

I don’t even know how to respond to you. Obviously I wouldn’t have said anything if I couldn’t smell it.

I just don’t think anyone would even notice if I did.

I don’t even know who Joel Osteen is.

Linda Sarsour, on the other hand. Still a despicable human being.

Why am I hungry? I really don’t think I should be hungry right now.

Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day. Hello. How are you? Have a nice day.

I like stories like this. He’s a good egg.

You see what happens? You try to be nice to someone and it just blows up in your face.


That’s when you kick them out of the house and lock the door. Then go back in 30 minutes to see if anyone needs stitches.

Hashtag Mom of the Year

I miss you, Rollinghead. Also I miss my Daddyhorse CD, which I cannot find anywhere, and that makes me very sad.

Also I was at that show. That was a great show.

I think Exec Ass is hilarious. You should just leave the T off Asst and go with it. I wonder if anyone would even notice.

Today has been stupid and I need to GTFOI.



I’ve never seen you when you’re smiling. It really gets under my skin.

33.52 black metallic ~ catherine wheel

(theme – disguise)


Random Wednesday

“It ain’t all burritos and strippers, my friend.”

I am well and truly trapped here for the duration. SIGH.

Copy-editing PDFs is a pain in the ass.

Pamela Anderson looks pretty fantastic without all that make up.

Honestly. Who thinks lemonade and cookies taste good together? How is this a thing?

“Which fictional antihero is your soul mate?” Batman.

Well duh. I didn’t need an internet quiz to tell me that.

“The speakers on the Common bandstand were kept from being heard. They were blocked off with a 225-foot buffer zone, segregated beyond earshot. Police barred anyone from approaching to hear what the rally speakers had to say. Reporters were excluded, too. Result? The free-speech rally took place in a virtual cone of silence. Participants ‘spoke essentially to themselves for about 50 minutes,’ the Globe reported. ‘If any of them said anything provocative, the massive crowd did not hear it.'”

carpet cleaning.

splitting headache.

two hour Mediasite training.

and now my phone has kicked the bucket.


Wait, I’m the only one registered for this workshop AGAIN?

more sigh.

I’m fucking cursed.

I give up.

I wish it were raining.

I wish it was.

OK. Moving on. Sorry, it was just this sort of hurricane of crap all of a sudden.


I have the Kitchens of Distinction stuck in my head now.

Hey Mediasite training was only 15 minutes. Guess I’m super glad I was the only one registered. I got the info I needed and we were done. There’s a bright spot in this craptastic day.

I’m going to Dr. Hooks now.

Great. No one has pay phones any more. I had to borrow a credit union’s Google because Dr. Hooks moved and I didn’t know it.

I deserved a Den Pop. I stopped.

Fucking day.

Unrelenting pain.

“The road to hell is paved with reasonable exceptions.”

Just when you start to think good things about the ACLU …

Some pretty powerful images.

I’ve never actually considered Joss Whedon to be a feminist. And despite my love of his work, I have long considered him to be an asshole.

Well duh it’s Darcy. Like any other Austen fellow would be my man.

These internet quizzes. Sheesh.

Wow. That whole letter was, “We all have the right to free speech. Except these people. These people best shut the fuck up.” Progressive fascism, alive and well.

“Someone, somewhere, is always getting mad about everything.” Pretty much.

Total lack of self awareness.

This is fantastic and I love it.

Pink had another baby?

Look, I’d love to buy that super cute skirt, but I just can’t right now.

Google has already shipped my replacement phone! Yay!

Here’s what you’re not getting – this is all extraneous information that the vendor neither needs nor cares about. Why are you even here?


Oh, right. I’m having breakfast for dinner. I decided this ten minutes ago and then completely forgot it.

This day, man.

Dammit. Why didn’t I write this down? I have no memory of what I did.

How fun!

Boy, Humphrey Bogart sure was a handsome man.


Oh these are awesome.

Whatever cop shot that tear gas canister totally hit that dude in the balls on purpose, and I think it’s frigging hilarious.

OK. What is all the damn screaming about now?

Wait. I wasn’t ready for that.


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