The Desert Mermaid

So I went on another Eclipse Adventure!

THE BIG TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE OF 2017

ME: Wow, I would have to go slightly north to see totality! I am not up for a traffic-jammed road trip
ME: I volunteer to stay at the Space Place and do Eclipse Activities, allowing my other coworkers to travel!
ME: In exchange, I only ask for a suitcase full of money
SPACE PLACE:
ME: Or the next couple of eclipses guaranteed off
SPACE PLACE: eh, sure

PREVIOUSLY ON ECLIPSE ADVENTURE:

A traffic-jammed road trip!

THE NOT-VERY-CLOSE PATH OF TOTALITY

ME: Good news, bro! I'm gonna be in your direction! How about if I send you a map of totality and you pick a city to meet me in?
MY BROTHER: Oh, you want me to do a traffic-jammed road trip? I see how it is
ME: Also, I will be taking the train because air travel is LITERALLY THE WORST
MY BROTHER: Okay. How's Buffalo, New York sound?
ME: I dunno, how's the springtime weather in Buffalo?
BROTHER: Unpredictable. But you can see my new house and hang out with Burgie for a day!
ME: SOLD

So I bought a make-your-own-unicorn kit as an offering for Burgie and was on my way!

( FRIENDLY FACES EVERYWHERE; HUMBLE FOLKS WITHOUT TEMPTATION )

Lost my iPod for my birthday. THAT'S NOT HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO WORK.

And I didn't just lose it. As I was getting out of the car for my job interview (which went pretty well, I think), I grabbed at it and somehow managed to flip it off the jack plugging it into the car's tape player. And then the motherfucking thing must have TELEPORTED INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION, because it was fucking NOWHERE after that. I checked the surrounding pavement to make sure it hadn't flipped straight out of the car, then figured it hadn't and decided I'd rummage for it after the interview/when I was no longer in a dark parking garage.

Obviously, it wasn't there, either.

My working theory is that it was stolen by little undercarriage aliens from the 8th Dimension. gwalla recently suggested that my gallbladder had been replaced by one of those aliens, and so my guess is that after I killed it, its friends retaliated. I choose to believe this rather than that it has been flattened by a car or appropriated by some other parking garage denizen, because to be perfectly honest I prefer a world like this to the one where some creep is cruising through the weird shit on my iPod.

At least now Dad knows what to get me for my birthday.

For some years now the grocery store nearest our house has been slowly descending into a dystopian wasteland. The setup is haphazard, the bakery and deli are half-assed at best, most of the stock is from this terrible off-brand company that seems to make all of its products from soup to pecans with a 3D printer, and the most helpful employee in the store seems like the kind of guy whose most treasured possession is a chainsaw named after his mother.* It has become an unpleasant experience.

So we've started going to a farther away, but much more pleasant store, which is like sunshine and butterflies compared to the nuclear winter of our local place. It's got friendly staff, delicious local artisan organic free range everything, lovingly set up displays, delicious chicken salad sandwiches, and an all-around better selection of products. And it only occasionally tries to kill you.

Today, for instance. Today Mom and I were walking in for a shopping run for the office, and Mom was straight up assaulted in the doorway. By the door.

As it turns out, getting whacked in the ribs by a rogue automatic sliding door is REALLY GODDAMN PAINFUL. Mom couldn't even indulge in some therapeutic swearing, because after an initial "FUCK" whooshed out of her all her breath was gone. She staggered in and sat down. We both decided that it was important to tell someone about this, if for no other reason than that the store is constantly swarming with really old people (I guess old people like pleasant grocery stores, too) and if that door hit a little old lady with osteoperosis, it might crush her to powder. So we asked for a manager.

HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: YEAH, THE DOOR IS BROKEN. I'M SORRY, I THOUGHT IT WAS STUCK! IT HIT YOU? I'LL GET SOMEONE!
THE SOMEONE SHE GOT: What's up?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: THE DOOR HIT HER! I'M GOING TO GO TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY BECAUSE IT HIT HER AND THAT'S DANGEROUS AND IT'S WARM ENOUGH WE CAN JUST TURN IT OFF AND LEAVE IT OPEN SO I'LL DO THAT NOW!
CUSTOMER AT SELF-CHECK-OUT, WHERE HELPFUL LOUD GIRL IS SUPPOSED TO BE STATIONED: Can I get my 5¢ bag discount please?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: JUST AS SOON AS I TURN OFF THIS DOOR SO IT DOESN'T HIT ANYONE ELSE!
MOM: *wheeze*
THE SOMEONE: I'll go get a manager.
THE SOMEONE: in the distance Manager! Some lady slammed into the door!
ME: I could write a linguistics monograph on how she worded that.
MOM: Ha--OW. Don't make me laugh.
ME: Are you going to live?
MOM: I think I bruised a rib. I'll let you know if my lung starts to collapse.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: I TURNED THE DOOR OFF. I THINK THAT'S BEST. I DIDN'T ASK MANAGEMENT BECAUSE I KNOW THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT AND WE DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE HURT AND--
ME: Thank you! That's good! I think that self-check-out lady is going to whack you with a mop in a second.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: OH, RIGHT. BUT THE DOOR IS OFF, JUST SO YOU KNOW!
MANAGER: I am concerned about this.
ME: Join the club.
MOM: Nah, I can walk it off, it's a good hurt. I just won't inhale for a few days.
MANAGER: Are you going to hypothetically see a doctor?
MOM: No plans at the moment, but I'll keep you informed.
MANAGER: Are you going to sue us, hypothetically?
ME: That depends. Are you hypothetically interested in giving us some free chicken salad sandwiches?
MOM: Shut up, dear. As to suing you, I'm thinking no. I just want this written down somewhere.

So we got that all squared away and continued shopping. All the other employees expressed concern over Mom's clearly pained demeanor. It was still the nicest damn grocery store we'd ever been to.

ME: I knew there had to be something wrong with this place.
MOM: And yet we still prefer it to our local dystopia.
ME: Well, sure. That off-brand Soylent Green they sell is awful. Probably not even made of real people.

Our luck this week had better improve, because with Mom's flattening and my brother's broken hand, we've got two casualties heading into Family Awesome Time. Here's hoping nobody gets eaten by a bear or something.


*He is actually pretty helpful, though. Never says a word, but if you ask him where something is he'll immediately leave whatever he was doing and lurch off silently, and if you follow him he'll lead you directly to the item. Then he vanishes like a ghost back to the stockroom or wherever.

I really wish metaquotes hadn't descended into wanky lunacy a while ago. There needs to be an outlet for the hilarious things I find on LJ, and Metaquotes has been taken over and then gutted by whiners. Anybody know another community that's just funny?

Took my sister to her doctor appointment yesterday. The orthopedic office is way bigger than our own, with a fish tank in the waiting room, and the place is pretty chilly. I watched the fish while waiting for her to register, and then it came time to Sit And Wait for the doctor to come find her. I was starting to pull on my jacket as I sat down, chatting with my sister about important things like Disney songs and how you can have a Mexican Standoff with yourself, and suddenly my brain received a priority one message from my elbow.

The message was: OW.

This required further information. First question: Why does my elbow feel abruptly like it’s been shot? Second question: WHAT THE HELL IS A HORNET DOING THERE?

They say that rushes of adrenalin and other pain hormones can cause humans to perform almost superhuman feats. Yesterday I proved it. In the space of about two seconds I had whipped off my jacket, furiously swept the bug off my elbow, and then busted through the world’s most manic rendition of the Bug Stomping Tarantella—and all without shrieking even ONE swear word that might offend a roomful of pleasant, brace-wearing Mormons. Adversity truly leads to heroism.*

I still have no idea how the hornet got there. I can’t interrogate her, since my self-defensive bug fu squashed her flat, but I am slightly afraid of that jacket now. You never know where an entire hive of angry bugs might be lurking.


*I checked with my sister to make sure I hadn’t unleashed a storm of profanity without noticing. She confirmed that I did not, though I did manage a pretty good ARGH or two.

The cat would like to rescind her earlier assertion that carpet cleaning is the worst thing in the world. She now realizes that the worst thing in the world is skunks.

Honestly, I can see her point on the matter.

On a related note, THANK GOD for the internet hive mind. I can't remember the de-skunking recipe offhand. Thanks, internet!

The weird thing about a car accident is, while actually crashing, my brain goes completely deadpan. I’m not thinking “OH GOD I’VE CAUGHT THE SLUSH I’M SPINNING OUT,” I’m thinking, “Oh, great. I’m spinning out. Damn this is going to change my whole day—oh, that crunch sounded like my headlight hitting the barricade. … And now I’m facing the wrong way. But at least I’m I’m on the shoulder. Now. I suppose I should turn on the hazard lights and call someone.”

The irony of it is, I was going home early from work because it was looking ominous and snowy for once.

Anyway, yeah, so I’m okay mostly. My knee was braced against the dashboard and got whacked, the headache I’ve got is probably an indication that my brain got rattled around in my head a bit, and as the panic hormones wear off I’m sure I’ll notice a few more dings and bashes. But I’m not dead, so that’s a plus, anyway.

Thanks, all, for your concerns and sympathies. I’ll keep y’all posted if any new developments develop.

Once again, I am somewhat underwhelmed by the SNOW APOCALYPSE!!!!! predicted by our local weather guys. Unless the language changed while I wasn't looking and "IT WILL SNOW 80 FEET" now means "It'll rain a bit."

Maybe we should employ the weather guys as a magic blizzard prevention team. Hey, it's working so far.

Index finger aches from banging on Nook screen. I miss homerow.

The weird thing is, my brother just had surgery, too—on his hand. Why is it that breakdowns never come in singles, but always multiples?

Let’s just hope this doesn’t affect my brother’s Gaming Thumb. That would be a great loss to the world.