Sunday, June 25, 2006

Currently obsessed with:



Currently watching:



Currently reading:




Currently listening to:

Thursday, June 22, 2006

It IS inappropriate. Much like your facial hair.

Dream Dictionary

Poker~ To dream that you are playing poker, suggests that a situation in your waking life requires strategy and careful planning. You need to think things out before carrying out your actions. The dream may also be a pun on "poke her." Are you trying to get a girl's attention?

Um. No.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

"I'm into board games. I have a Monopoly club the way some people have a poker group. By the way, I'm undefeated." -Topher Grace


I literally woke myself up laughing last night. Including an actual snort. I forget now what was so damn funny, but I do recall that I was lying on the floor playing poker with Topher Grace, who was dealing the cards off my ass.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Dudes, he's encroaching on my decrees!

Heat makes me cranky. Which lowers my tolerance for, well, just about everything. So here is a list of things that has pissed me off in the last week.

*Tourists. For some reason, my hometown is inundated every summer with tourists. Why the hell they choose here for a vacation is beyond me. Really, are our lakes that fabulous? You have to come here? And upon arriving, must you do the following?
**Turn left at the right-turn-only sign?
**Stop when there's no stop sign?
**Ignore the stop sign when there is one?
**Walk around half-naked when you're 50+, fat, and hairy?

*Interruptions. Every time I speak, someone interrupts. Can I just finish one fucking sentence, please?

*People taking over my job. Unless I ask for help with something, I think I should be given the benefit of the doubt that I am, in fact, competent enough to do daily work activities.

*Junk for sale. I went to garage sales this weekend with my grandma and Nikki, and most of the places had a lot of decent stuff. But then there was inevitably places with nothing but complete trash that should just be thrown away. Yeah, sir, I'm really glad I stopped by to check out your one table of beer can coolers, Ziplock bag of costume jewelry, 3 western books, TV trays, your Shop Class-style lamp, and a box of dingy, used shoes. Oh, and the brand new leather recliner with the $500 price tag. Thanks for advertising.

*Old, smelly men in the library. That's self-explanatory.

*And a million other things, but I'm getting too cranky just writing this list.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

On Thursday, since it was cold and looking like rain, I brought out a green zip-up jacket that I hadn't worn in quite a long time. Inside one of the pockets, I found a fortune leftover from some Chinese meal. The fortune read, "Hope for the best--prepare for the worst." And so it began.

Later that day while working at the library, I had a run-in with a sneery woman. Since our new system is pretty much Internet-based, anyone can go online and look at their account. So this woman's daughter was looking up the family account, and it showed they still had a movie checked out. The mother comes up to the circulation desk and told me about it. She says, "We brought that movie back today with a bunch of other movies. She must have missed it." She, meaning my co-worker. Then she says, "That always happens here. If I bring in a bunch of movies, you miss one or two, and I end up getting late fines." I said okay, I'd check, and began looking for the movie in our courier bin.

It was a quick search because there were only 7 movies in the bin, and the one she claimed to have returned was not one of them. She asked if it could be somewhere else or if it could have had a hold on it and went to someone else. I patiently explained no, because in order for the hold to activate, it would have been checked in first. So, realizing that she hadn't actually brought the movie in, she began yelling at her kids and blaming them for not bringing it. She didn't apologize to me. The next day she brought the movie in, still no apology. And believe me, she should apologize for making her children watch a movie starring Kirk Cameron.

Anyway, later on Thursday afternoon, I had to tell this stinky old man, John, who sits at the computer for hours and hours, to shut his piehole. Except I was nicer. There were two kids on the computers also, and John got mad at his computer for some reason and said "Damn" really loudly. Granted, that's a pretty tame word, but still. It's a library! Neither my co-worker or I said anything, but then John did it again like 2 minutes later. So I said, "John, you're going to have to watch your language." He bellows, "What?" And I repeated, "You're going to have to watch your language." He turned around, and I thought that was the end of it.

Fast forward to Friday morning, moments after we open the library. I had told my boss, Carol, about what happened with John. Then he comes in the library, all set to plop his stinky ass down for another 5 or 6 hours, but first he comes up to me. He takes an empty beer can out of a plastic bag and practically shoves it in my face. He points at some tiny writing at the top of the can and says "What does that say?" And not thinking anything other than that he just couldn't read the small writing, I read the words "Damn good beer."
John: *yelling* Now you watch your language!
I got fucking pissed off. So I did a little voice-raising of my own.
Me: John, there is a difference between sitting at the computer and swearing loudly and you coming in here trying to catch me off guard.
John: Well, don't you tell me to watch my language. I have never --
Me: *cutting him off* You cannot sit in the library and swear. We don't tolerate it from children, we won't tolerate it from an adult.
John: I never swear in here!
Carol: John, I have spoken to you several times about your language.
John: Never! I--
Carol: I have spoken to you several times about your language.
Then he begins ranting about us letting little kids run around in the library, and one of these days someone's gonna get hurt.
John: You better take care of that!
Carol: John, if you're going to become offensive, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

I wish she had asked him to leave, the old stinky bastard, who sits looking up young women's pictures on match.com. Ish.

I'm currently working at the CA library, hoping fervently that the 56-year-old doesn't come waltzing in. Apparently I'm not the only library worker he's tried to woo. My boss calls him the Dumpster Diving Don Juan. I'll leave the explanation to your imaginations.

Saturday, June 03, 2006



Dear 56-year-old single men,

Just because I politely ask if you enjoyed watching The Motorcycle Diaries does not mean that you should then spend the next hour and twenty minutes telling me your life story and ask me out on a date. "I'm single and looking, if you're interested" is not hot. I'm 27, not desperate.

Love, April

Thursday, June 01, 2006



Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest opens July 7.

Oh, you can bet your sweet ass I'll be there. You can bet Orlando's sweet ass, too.