All Over The Map

where it's at...

I've had a strange day that involved in a multitude of emotions, all experienced within minutes of each other. And funny that I went through so much, but have so little to say about it all.

I'm on my last week of days, and then it's back to nights. 6 am start times this week, and then on to 3:30 pm starts the next. I think it should be illegal to post these kind of shifts in this way. My body hates my job, simply put. And for those who don't want that much information, skip to the next paragraph. For those that don't give a shit, well... that's the problem with changing shifts. My body simply doesn't know when to take a good crap. And that pisses me off.

I've been teaching my girl the fine art of poker. I hate to say it, but I can already see the addictive nature in her being. Should I stop before we go too far, or is what is done, done? "Hit me, hit me, hit me," she demands, and I deal her out more three more cards. She plunks chips down on the table and is actually not that bad at betting. She's faked me out quite a few times. I have to be careful and bring the cards with me when I leave the room (to try and poo) or else she'll stack the deck. However, what is worse, her addictive nature or mine own? We stayed up until 9:30 last night, and I honestly did not want to lose... to an eight year old.

Invasion of privacy? The sad thing today is reading how some photographer apparently tried to get photos during Chris Penn's funeral and was unceremoniously ousted. However, not only did this happen, but in MSN's entertainment page online, it was alongside a link about Tara Reid not being overtly concerned about a previous wardrobe malfunction, and of Paris Hilton's diary being up for grabs.

Where the hell are we going here? Three displayed stages of celebrity and the bloody shame of it all. I feel sorry for Penn's family during such a private moment, sad that Tara takes this kind of thing so nonchalantly, and just plain tired of anything to do with Paris Hilton. But like Gideon states "We NEED Paris Hilton". Link At this stage, it's hard to refute his claims.

Finally, I'm sick of winter. Yeah, I know we haven't had much of one, but I'm still done. I want to be able to wear capri pants and low-cut Converse sneakers again. I want to drive in a car with the windows rolled down all the time, not just going through the coffee drive-through. I want to throw out my daughter's snowpants, mismatched mittens and wool hats: yes, throw them out in the garbage once and for all. I want to sleep with the bedroom window open again, and actually hear something other than the shrieking wind, and ticking of the electric heater. I want to be able to just open the door and walk outside, without having to worry what the weather is going to be like on the way home that night. I don't want to sweat during the day in my Hulk jacket, or freeze at night in one layer too short of an outfit.

I've had enough of work, winter and fucking celebrity hounds.

I could go for another hand of poker, though. I'm just laying it all out there.

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