001 java.net.SocketException

if you ever want to write a post and then have it eaten by blogger, don't read any further. otherwise, i have some tips.

1) always, never, forget to compose your posting in word or notepad first and then copy and paste the text into blogger.

that's it. just do that. if you can dream it, i can do it.

nerds vs dorks

i've come to believe that there are only two types out there; nerds and dorks. nerds cannot be dorks and dorks cannot be nerds and the two can never mix. if you are a nerd, you must stay within the confines. dorks double as geeks. they're the same exact thing. how i love duplicity. dorks always try to end up with nerds because they're really interesting to be around and keep it real, but nerds are pretty sharp and usually tunnel their way back out into the fresh air. don't try to put them in a corner, or in a tunnel, obviously. dorks are like new puppies, except not just for a few years, for...ever. they require a lot of energy and care, whereas nerds are pretty content just to eat honey nut cheerios for a while and then go sketch some things. dorks have to line their cabs with paper and then go design their own bookmarks. u smell what i'm cookin. keep it real and seriously, don't mix 'em.

i'll bear one precious scar

my family has a really strange phenomenon that graces us on really random intervals - the women 'dream' my deceased grandfather. he passed away in 1986 from lung cancer. he was 62 and as luck usually has it, no one had their fair share of time with him. this is gonna be a weird one, but if you know me even a little, you probably think i'm a witch anyway so this won't be so odd. the family gets together occasionally for holidays and stuff and while we're dining, someone might share how they recently 'dreamt him'. my sister, grandmother, and cousin are the usuals for his visits and he ALWAYS 'visits' in the same week. just to be extra clear, 3 or 4 of my women relatives will dream him in the same week and possibly even the same night and there's a big zero on the correlation scale. there's absolutely no explanation as to why this coincidence would happen on a regular basis like it does.

i've only dreamt him once since his death and it was pretty remarkable. i had pretty much just started grad school and was knee-deep in work stress. i wasn't in any sort of desperation, but i was definitely hurting and not at all sure what to do with my life. then one night in the midst of all this, there he was. in the dream, i was walking through an open house, which just so happened to be my aunt's first home in the early 80s. i slowly wandered through it checking every nook and cranny as one would normally do when perusing real estate. then i hit the dining room and there he was in the chair he always sat in. we didn't actually speak. i was somewhat alarmed-calm to see him there. he just sat with his arms folded and shook his head in proud approval. i woke up soon after and didn't really realize what had happened until a few days later at a family gathering. his behavior in my dream made me feel like i was actually headed down the right path. it was soothing to have his approval. turns out my grandmother had dreamt him that same night. crazy witches... anyways, the moral of the story is that i kinda need him right now. i need a little time in the dream world with him. i can't really explain why. i just do. the bat signal might very well be on but how the eff can you tell.

the new house is getting old

this is one of the last instances in which i'll refer to it... custom-built homes have too many details. there are 47 shades of white-ish paint and twice that when it comes to cabinet stain. not only is the house on my mind 24 hours a day, but a lot of people constantly ask how it's going. i recently dreamt that the house was chasing me, and then, i dreamt it again last night. my house was chasing me. this is not okay. word to those guys who don't want me to wheel kick them in the head; assume that it's going fine unless i show up with a large black eye where i punched myself. i know it sounds like i'm not having any fun, but i am. i just have a funny way of displaying it. designing a home is fun if you have way too much time on your hands. like i said before, i'm in love with it. ok, pretty much done with that subject for a few months.

on to current events...i think we're finally unloading the bus at the 'no more news to report' stop. in as far back as i can remember, there hasn't been any news. september 11th was the last newsworthy event we've had. i actually don't care about terri schiavo or michael jackson. i'm heartless. they did however remind me to get a living will and also to not molest children. thanx u guys. those were toughies. and as for martha, she didn't need to go to prison. rapists, murderers, and psychos get far lesser sentences for doing 14 times the damage she did. way to take a rich, powerful woman and put her behind bars. very helpful de-motivation for the impressionable minds out there.

i think society is heading for an imploding crash. maybe i'm just getting old for the first time, but i can't ever remember the media being so simultaneously harsh, incorrect, inconsequential, and 'censorous' for so long a period. they're now officially all really dumb effing b's, except for campbell brown, anne curry, and willard scott, my dream.newscasting.team. all the others are bloodsucking leeches that aren't capable of competant interviewing. i mean u, matt and katie. you two suck. dammit they piss me off so much. someone get katie a sense of compassion and a lifetime detention at the school for people who need to learn how to stop being blowhards for matt. kisses.

i love high quality motor oil, dancing, and you

is it possible for me to be in love with a plot of land? i think that this has become the case because i can't stop smiling, my favorite songs sound better, and i can't peel myself away from the blueprints. i'm pretty sure our song is 'rock wit' cha' by bobby brown.

DETAILS...i anxiously drove past my cute little 205 after work because erik with a k told me that i did in fact have 'tarp' on the premises. he wasn't joking. today when i drove past, not only was it breathtaking, but i found yards of tarp outlining the perimeter, and a few very large men with matching bulldozers and red trucks and heavy-duty, insulated overalls. i waved at them and they waved back. i plan to ensure that they're always in the best of spirits whilst they construct my home. i will bring them hot cocoa and sandwiches and periodically give them hugs...ok not so much, but these are very nice thoughts. i'd rather just do really inappropriate things with the builder at this point because he's sort of making this all possible. there. i said it. i really am a hor. i heart 205 (and apparently matt the builder).

spaldinggetyourfootofftheboat

i signed my life/savings to the title agent a little while ago and i love the house, but i still have major tightening in my chest due to the construction loan process being so fucking painful. every time i do something house related, it makes me feel like a giant ass. i don't know why. i have everything signed and delivered according to plan, i just feel so stupid at the mercy of gg homes and the bank. since i can't dwell on this, i'm thankful for several things. i'm healthy that i know of, i'm still employed (4 yrs tomorrow), i have a great family, my close friends are the best, i am actually building a beautiful house, i met my perfect man that i can't have, but someone that i could marry does really exist, i also met the other half of my brain, who without i don't know what i would do, def leppard has armageddon it, my niece is amazingly cute, i'm pretty smart, i'm funny sometimes, and i have an mba. so i guess i'm still doin alright over here. nickel knobs though. seriously. i don't care what extra 'debt' they bring. i need them bad. i get to go pick out my front door tomorrow and i'm a little drunk right now. it's fine.

nickel knobs

do not take big don with you to the brand new house store. she will ruin your first home experience and the life of the poor lady that has to deal with you and your little picky selections. the plans were totally fine but big don had to get all up on them and concern herself with the specific type of windows along the rear elevation. i see where she's comin from, but dammit to peter, give the poor custom builder a mini little break. this concluded part 1 of the new home 'selections' process. parts 2 and 3 are on deck. big don's staying home.

for those who cared about the outcome of the stairs, please either sit down or grab a handful of tissues. this news was more than a little devastating to me so i can't imagine what it will do to you. the sneaky builder people pretended to listen but actually ignored me when i asked about hardwood stairs with a rug runner up the center like 94 years ago when it mattered. TODAY, they're not able to do that since i didn't specify it 94 years ago when it mattered. oh, and that beautiful brick you thought you could have, you can't. we lied. same with those gorgeous cabinets. but i'm so over the stairs now. i'm getting those emeffing nickel knobs and hinges if it's the last mother effing thing i do. mark my words... i'm gonna go punch myself in the face.

things i'm done with

1 paper in general
2 instant messaging
3 gas prices - i need it regardless
4 continental airlines
7 mortgage paperwork
8 terrestrial radio
9 eto/etd feelings
10 air jordan's
11 nhl hockey
12 rescheduling wM training
12 counting

snowed all up

while i was 'stranded' at my own airport for 6 hours last night, this is what i saw and/or did...get your damn mind out of the shitter:

1 a lady with like 3 small dogs stuffed in one of those trendy roll-y luggage thingies. they looked comfy. like sardines comfy
2 elvis in a grey jogging suit and sunglasses, which appeared only after his men's room visit...
3 several $5 beers
4 the meanest bartendress in the entire world. if i wasn't stuck in your stupid airport buying your effing beer hor, you'd be out a job
5 iMarc
6 zero new planes coming to all of my gates
7 approx 98,000 cancellations of all my flights
8 an angry angry little man named 'blair' who at one point had what appeared to be a seizure directed at someone on the other end of his tiny silver cell phone
9 like 14 senior citizens housing wieners and fries
10 a vibrating family

obviously i need to get a camera phone so i can email this crazy shit into blogspot next time.