I Want My Loom Back!

December 2, 2007 at 11:50 pm (Beading)

Before the fire, I had a small Ojibwa bead loom. It was perfect for bracelets and small wall hangings. After I started bead weaving, I didn’t have much to do with my loom. I started missing it around the time I got tired of doing square stitch, which creates the same effect as looming, just over a longer period of time.  With square stitch and looming, I can recreate practically any cross-stitch pattern, which opens up dimensions of the kind of work I can be creating… faster.

Now, the loom survived the fire and I was fairly certain the damn thing had been sent to be ozoned along with everything else, but, alas, it has not been found. When, and if, I ever get my second check, the big check, the first thing I’m buying is a big-ass Ojibwa loom.  I’ll probably buy a little assed Ojibwa loom as well.  And I’m going to buy all kinds of beads to go with it, and patterns, and I’m going to lay it out in the middle of my bed and roll all over them nekkid.

Well, not roll over the looms… that would hurt, but beads don’t hurt.  Although they might get stuck in the crack of my ass and then the cats would start playing with them and they would roll all over the floor and then I would have to buy more beads, which gets expensive. Okay, scratch the whole nekkid rolling thing. We’ll just pretend.

I also would like to have ink for my fekkin’ printer. Its an astronomical amount of money, more than an Ojibwa bead loom. However, I do need a printer to print out graph paper so I can get all of my designs ready for when I get my Ojibwa bead loom. However, said printer has been yakking about being out of ink for the past three months and it still prints. Conspiracy, I tell ya.

I just realized that I forgot to put my food splotched, feline hair covered jacket in the washer along with the other darks. Shit. Oh well, now I look like a sous chef instead of a server. 

I still want my loom back!

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December 2, 2007 at 2:22 am (General, Nate, Work, Writing)

I slept until 1:30 today. I was exhausted from just a really longer than usual week. Nate had an ambulatory EEG and I while I have always understood why animals eat their young, I moved on to contemplating it. He was so restless one night. Talked in his sleep, tossed, turned, got up to go to the bathroom… gah!

Last night I went to see Jubal Kane and I stayed for the entire show. I got home a little after 3. My body was tired. It was tired before I got up and danced. My back, my legs, my arms. Although I had more days off than usual last week, I was also on the road with the holidays and hunting. I think I fell off the Earth when I fell asleep last night. I got up and used the bathroom a few times, turned off the alarm, and was quite surprised to see how late I had slept. I know I needed it.

*Begin Rant*

Whiny pissed me off, after the fact. See, she asked me to cover the end of her shift on Friday because she had a funeral/wake to attend. (Her second one in as many weeks… hmmmm.)  I told her I would because I need the money, not because she inspires me to be nice.  I stepped downstairs to have a cigarette and two people came up to the bar. 2nd hostess told her there were peeps there and her response was, “Not my problem.”  2nd Hostess said, “It won’t hurt you to get their drink orders!” So, she did. Unfortunately, 2nd Hostess didn’t get a chance to tell me until after Whiny had left, nor was I lucky enough to hear the exchange. Had I been, Whiny would have worked the rest of her shift and I would have gone home earlier.

I told Assistant Manager that it wasn’t even the fact that Whiny is, WHINY, nor that she gets flustered when more than two tables are taken in her section, nor that Addy and I can’t depend on her at all, but the fact that she’s a selfish little bitch, who is out for herself, rude to Hostess and 2nd Hostess, but especially Hostess, to the point that Hostess told her, “Fuck you,” the other day because Whiny takes her shit out on Hostess, because Whiny makes condiments for herself or takes the ones that we make for our tables when we run out, without a thought of making a few more when she has the shit out so it cuts down on time I or Addy have to spend in the kitchen instead of waiting on our guests, because, you know, that’s what Addy and I do.

If they had fired her weeks ago, we wouldn’t be approaching busy season with a weak link. Big D and Candyman can’t come in to cover her shift and I’m not a good enough bartender to do so either.  At least nothing more complicated than beer, wine, and two ingredient mixed drinks. Now, get this:  A lady asked me for a Bloody Mary but specifically asked that it be made a certain way. Since I’m supposed to be learning bartending, I took it upon myself to make her drink and the gin/tonic the other lady asked for. Whiny said to me, “I’m not trying to be a bitch, but when I’M behind the bar, I can make the drinks. If we’re busy, well, you can make your own drinks.”  WTF??? No bitch, from now on, you’ll be making ALL OF MY FUCKING DRINKS, BUSY OR NOT, YOU LITTLE FUCKING CUNT! What’s the fucking difference???? Busy or not, you’re the fucking bartender, you WILL make all of my drinks. Fuck you.

*End Rant*

Holiday commercials are depressing. I’m sitting here, watching some crime show on Court TV, and all of my forensic bliss is interrupted by some jewelry commercial about everlasting love. Bah. Humbug.

WVU lost to Pitt today. How embarrassing and heartbreaking. GAH!!!! Nothing like watching a National Championship slip through your fingers, and Pat White’s fingers, and River’s fingers, and Brown’s fingers… gee, anyone else fumble the ball tonight???? We gave it away. We should have steamrolled them, just like we did UConn last weekend. Bullshit.

While watching Court TV, they’ve been previewing their series, Murder by the Book, which is hosted and commentated by crime novelists. This reminds me of a novel/screenplay I was going to write, actually started. It, along with the rest of my unfinished bestsellers, is still sitting on the hard drive recovered from the fire. Guess I need to call my computer guy.

As with all of my stories, I’m very fond of it. Oddly, the lead female character is a waitress. Of the three leading male characters, two are police officers, and one is a serial killer. Coffee and donuts, anyone? Normally, crime novels are about, well, the crime, and the tortured detectives investigating the case, but mine is about the tortured waitress dating the level-headed detective who is investigating the crime.

Maybe someday I’ll finish it.

AZ called today, wished me a happy belated birthday. Told me he had seen my jewelry at Tamarack and I was down to three pieces. Yeah, I need mo’ beads. I don’t have mo’ money. *Sigh* I did make something today but it is a birthday gift. It’s pretty. I’ll take a picture.

I’m hankering for eggnog and I need toilet paper. Guess I’ll head out to the all night grocery. Yee haw.

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