**#(&$)@(#&&&)*&@#_%)*#_@$)_()!!!!!

I think I’ve used that title before. Subtitled: WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

At work, inundated with so many projects that I’ve just given up. No, I’m taking a break. A fast one. While I wrestle with PixPlace, which is being a bitch lately. It won’t let me in at all on my home computer, and now I’m at work my phone tells me it’s sent the picture but it never shows up in my inbox.

OOOOOhhh, but I just tried emailing one to myself, and it worked! Yay!!! Screw PixPlace. Okay, I’m better now.

Here’s what I wish I had in front of me right now:

And here’s Baker B, looking a little too zombielike. We were at what’s becoming our favorite Charleston Bar, the Shiny Thing Place.

Known in the real world as the Smokehouse Bar And Grill – I think – amusingly we’ve called it the Shiny Thing Place until I forget what the real name is. It’s a very cool old warehouse right on Bay Street with huge shiny copper beer making things that you sit right beside if you’re in the bar:

AND, here’s a link to a fantastic site that has all KINDS of great photos of the new Cooper River Bridge. Which Ken Fitlike googled and found. Ken Fitlike who is in, ummmm, SCOTLAND. I did get some good photos too, but god knows when I’ll get them scanned. And they’re sure not as good as these.

On the annoyance front, I’ve lost my private room in Vegas. Someone dropped out, and now there’s not an uneven number of rooms. Well, there IS, but the Computer Guy is going now, and being a guy, of course HE gets the private room. Dammit. And the organizer of this event is coming around pretty much daily wanting us to decide right this minute things like what we want for every meal and when and where we want to have it. I don’t even know what I want for dinner TODAY, let alone what I want to eat in Las Vegas in … oh my god, it’s just over two weeks. Yikes – I thought it was MUCH longer than that. Well, I STILL don’t know what I want to eat two weeks from now.

And someone else – my new roomie, yippie – sent an email around this morning wanting us all to get together so we can decide what we want to do and when we want to do it and make schedules and plans and get all organized. Because she thought we were all doing the same THINGS and now she fears some of us are doing one thing and some of us are doing something else and it’s just making her freak out, apparently. Great. I just want everyone to leave me the fuck ALONE, frankly. I want to wander around BY MYSELF, okay???? I hate groups!!! I hate organization and plans!!! Why did I agree to this??

Oh, and the someone who dropped out is dropping out because she got another job. And she is the Associate Dean’s Assistant. Who the Associate Dean is relying on heavily to get reports etc ready for the visit from the Certification People in the spring. So I’m expecting even MORE work to be coming my way. I’m also expecting to have to tell Dr. Airhead, who is on my very last nerve lately, that he better not think for one second I can do ONE MORE THING, he KNOWS how overloaded I am (I have three days of mail I haven’t had time to open sitting here right now – of course I DO have time for this, but I’m taking a break, dammit) and he better not go flapping the fuck around and think he can weasel the fuck out of standing up for me and telling her I can’t do her assistant’s work on top of my three or four jobs.

On the amusing side, I feel like I’m morphing into Ricky from Trailer Park Boys. Which isn’t as funny if you haven’t seen it. Let’s just say that in one episode (“If I Can’t Smoke and Swear I’m Fucked”) he’s representing himself in court, and the judge gives him permission to smoke and swear since he can’t express himself without smoking and swearing. It’s hilarious. He wraps up by saying, “That’s fucking it. I rest my fucking case. You can all fuck off.” Incidentally, Trailer Park Boys has apparently been dropped from BBC America for fear of FCC fines. Because this IS America. Can’t have swearing. If it was gallons of blood and gore, that’s perfectly okay. But gotta watch that language.

Okay, my break is over. Time to get the fuck back to work.