There *was* a story number 2. I had plans. Now, some weeks later, that has apparently been overridden, or more likely, abducted. But I remember number 3, for the rest of my life I will remember number3.

The story is PROOF OF ALIENS

We recently decided to get the trim on the house painted. B. knew a guy through work, so that's who we hired. Like all contractors he has disappeared 3/4 of the way through, but I've also found that to be a requirement of being a contractor. I digress.

One weekend he was here painting (a lovely Benjamin Moore shade of olive-y sage green). And we were talking in the yard. We were talking about where we had lived, how we ended up doing what we are doing. I made some comment like "yeah, where are the time machines when you need them".

He became animated, he said, BUT THERE ARE TIME MACHINES! "You know how people see UFOs? Those aren't flying saucers, or spaceships, they are time machines coming back from the future. The aliens are just people from the future. I've been abducted more times that I can count. Yeah, they take you, then poke you and prod you and stroke you (his words), and then they put you back".

I decided to play along. "Really, that's crazy, but how do you know?"

Mr Painter continues "Oh, I'm positive of it, and the thing that gives them away? They don't know how zippers work. When they put your clothes back on they never know how to zip up pants. I can't TELL you how many times I've been walking around and found my fly down. Those motherfuckers abducted me again."

You see why this story stuck.

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the management has been going on about his (pork) butt, and sent examples of other people cooking their butts similarly. so, as i type this, my butt is braising in milk.

i'll stop with that now. but it's true that this recipe has been an ongoing topic around the ranch, and also that i currenty am attempting it, the crockpot is doing it's slow-cooker thing.

and in ongoing whining, or pending lack thereof, i promise to not whine about my backpain anymore if this effin' cough would go away! jaysus. it's really a horrid cough up your lungs and shake the windows kind of thing. i feel good oher than the perpetual near-puking coughing. i will be good. please g*d. granted pork with milk is about as un-kosher as you get, although i've never been jewish. and i'm not much of anything, and i don't believe in G-g*d. so that's probably not going to work, but i'll throw it out there. please just make the frogs go away.

it's a gorgeous day and i'm watching it from inside. bleh. bleh.

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time, the universe, reactions, and particularly knitting tend to slow down when combined with prescription narcotics.

i didn't really want vicodin proper, i kind of liked the vicodin-lite that b. had left over from something else. it really helped with the pain, but didn't make me loopy. or, as sis-in-law would say, it wouldn't send me on a vi-cation. so i asked the doctor (via the phone in rx line) for just enough vico-lite to last until tuesday when i have my appointment, at which point we could discuss pain management further. it's somewhat of a crap shoot on whether or not you get your prescription called in when you call the doc on a friday, but they did call it in. b. was nice enough to go pick it up today. he looked at it when he got home and said "uh, you didn't get the fakey vicodin". ruh-roh. i was almost as concerned about too much as too little. i get tired of being in a vico-haze. but, as it happens, that's where i'll be. probably just as well at least for the weekend. i need to be able to walk come monday.

i've cast on for the baby blu jeans which are perfectly easy and i don't mind the denim yarn nearly as much as i thought i would. i have to say, i may take the route that many i know have gone - only knit baby stuff! it's so much faster! you can finish projects in a weekend instead of a month and a half.

so, i recline, knit a little, nap a little. i did get up long enough to make coffee, do dishes and vaccuum (which was the absolute limit to uptime), here at chez talkingcrow, it's mostly naps with buck. i will now cave into a foggy nap for a little while.

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my back is killing me. i look like i'm 80 when i walk. crap. historically this would be time for MRI and surgery, but i'm hoping to skip that fun because they said if they had to do surgery again it wouldn't be the easy kind. need to find a physical therapist. and probably do the MRI anyway. feh.

in other news... well, there really is no other news. i need to finish some knitting ASAP, and will provide pics soon, but i'm kind of groggy and work is busy. work, for those of you following along is great. i like this gig, like the team, etc etc. although we're moving offices soon and given the way things go i'll probably still have 2 officemates in a tiny room only i probably won't be able to see outside across the hall. but the first lesson here a long time ago was not to worry about offices. it will always change again soon.

p.s. buck is hanging in there, doing just fine with his new look and pierced ear.

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the sock went too. it sat with the GPS for awhile. one day it will be whole.

we got to the superbowl party after a) it was over and b) everyone was totally trashed. sometimes it is sort of entertaining to be the sober one. sometimes.

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Grace is gone. Work is changing. Although working for a dotcom does have its moments...

This morning:
MrBoss: Fuck you!
Me: and Fuck you!
Mrboss: why do you have on fuck me shoes?
Me: dude, just a different pair of shoes today. they're just boots.
Followed by Mrboss IM'ing me links to all the porny books he could find on Amazon. And yet another conversation focused things to do to one's ass. And ponies. It's really not a bad place. That was a good day. Hey I got to ride the Segway around. (for those of you freaking out, don't. it's really fine.) However, I'm leaving that for another scheduled appointment. And soon I will not be working two jobs. That will be nice too.

Listening:
Citizen Cope, The Clarence Greenwood Recordings
Crystal Method, Tweekend
Clem Snide

Reading (read: when i'm in the tub i get to glance at):
Tell me Why
Knitting for Anarchists
Buckminster Fuller's Universe: His Life and Work

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ipod
Originally uploaded by talkingcrow.

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