They've been here for only 12 hours and they're already driving me crazy. Last night, it was, “Haven't you gotten rid of that dog yet? She's a monster,” about Cleo, who isn't monstrous at all. Yes, she barks at strangers, but she STOPS once she figures out they're invited, and yes, she's overly affectionate, but my parents are failing to comprehend that, “She'll calm down if you ignore her,” doesn't mean they should talk to Zorro for three minutes and then look at Cleo and say, “You aren't calm yet.”

This morning, I was awakened by my mother's search for an iron. Now, I do love my mother very much, but she is a compulsive ironer. The woman irons t-shirts and pajamas, and I swear I caught her ironing socks once. Well, maybe not. And searching for an iron is no big deal, really (I remember seeing it, but we've been rearranging everything and I don't know where it is, most of my clothes don't require ironing). So I was awakened by her outside my door going, “Xenobia, Xenobia,” (well, no she was using Mom-ified endearments based on my real name, but if you think I'm typing them…well…never mind). Knocking, I suppose, which would have actually awakened me to the point of having brain functionality before coffee, was somehow beyond her capabilities.

There are suitcases everywhere, not stacked, just…everywhere, and the ironing board is still in the middle of the computer room, and none of the coffee mugs were rinsed, and these are the same people who are anal to the extreme about doing dishes at their house.

This shouldn't surprise me, though, because my parents are the same people who don't train their dog, and suddenly expect that she will know what “sit” and “stay” mean when they are visiting away from home.

I fear the day they have grandchildren.
I fear my sanity knowing that my mother will be working out of my office this week.

*AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Yeah, that felt better.

So, I was dozing on the couch, kinda watching The Crocodile Hunter, when I thought of it…

Anyone remember TinyElvis? It was a program, an applet, really, that gave you an Elvis icon, who would walk across your screen, make a comment, like, “Maaan, look at that icon! Wow, that's really huge.” And then wiggle its hips or dance.

So, there needs to be TinySteve. This would be the Croc Hunter himself, and he'd bounce onto the desktop, crouch and go, “Get a look at that icon! What a little beauty!” or “Danger! Danger! Danger!” at random intervals.

Um, yeah, I'm tired.
(And alcohol free, too. Be afraid.)

…so anyone reading it is welcome to suggest things, or you can go without. In any case, yes, I am alive. Well, kind of.

Work is insane. Rates are low, which means the stock market is generally sucky. A tip: If you really want to invest in something, go buy a house. Real estate is hot-hot-hot right now. I know this because in the last week the five of us have originated 125 new loans. All of which I get to process. (Of course, I get a per-loan spiff, as well as commissions on my own originations, and a base, so, while I pretty much have no life during the week, it's worth it.)

The guys I work with appreciate me, though, and are supportive and generally cool. When asked what they could do to make my job easier, I retorted, “Buy me chocolate.” I was kidding, mostly, and they knew it, mostly, but for the last two days we've all been noshing on the three-pound box of See's they brought me. (I only eat the dark chocolates, and they pretty much all like milk, so this is good.)

Oh, and I have a private fax machine a mere three steps away from my desk, in my office with the token window. So, hey, at least while I'm going crazy, I'm comfortable.

* * *

And then there's the impending visit from my parents, who are currently in Palm Desert after driving up from Baja Sur on Sunday. They were supposed to arrive on the 19th, but now it looks like they're coming TOMORROW, and my bathrooms aren't really clean enough for parental company, and there's no time, and I finally decided I don't care. SInce they informed me, rather than asking, that they'd be coming, it's their problem. At least I don't complain about their neurotic dog who makes puddles of chocolate-pudding-like stuff on my carpets. (Yeah, you needed that image, didn't you?)

* * *

This sounds rather rant-y now that I'm re-reading it, but really, it's not. Just Xeni-babble. And yes, I can do this whole entry on one breath. :)

So, I haven't done a real post here or on OD for a week, and while I have things to say, my brain's not cooperating. So, a survey. Like that's a surprise.

I see… my dogs, and Fuzzy.
I need… more hours in the day.
I find… bits and pieces of chewed up pink plush aliens (Thanks Cleo)
I want… a bigger house…and a maid.
I have… enough.
I wish… we had just one more room.
I love… many.
I hate… ants, spiders, and temperatures over 80
I miss… summer rainstorms
I fear… being homeless.
I feel… itchy, and tired.
I hear… one of Fuzzy's incessant games.
I smell… leftover chicken.
I crave… my grandfather's iced tea
I search…for more books to read.
I wonder… if rates will stay this good for a while.
I regret… not being more outgoing. I suck at making friends.

When was the last time you…
Smiled? Tonight
Laughed? Tonight, after Fuzzy made some commment about the movie we just watched.
Cried? Last night, when I woke up having asthma issues, and couldn't breathe
Bought something? I bought a fax machine on Friday. Does that count?
Danced? I dance around my living room all the time. Shh. Don't tell anyone.
Were sarcastic? Me? Sarcastic? Never!
Kissed someone? About three minutes ago.
Talked to an ex? My most ex-y ex is in jail, actually, so, um, no.
Watched your favorite movie? I don't have a single favorite.
Had a nightmare? Not many, not since Fuzzy taught me the key to lucid dreaming.

A Last time for everything…
Last book you read: Second Thyme Around by Kate Fforde
Last movie you saw: We just finished watching K-PAX
Last song you heard: Um…we were listening to “Once More with Feeling” in the car a while ago. But I don't remember which track.
Last thing you had to drink: Water
Last time you showered: This morning
Last thing you ate: We had chicken tonight.
Do You…
1. Smoke? No. I can't stand the smell, and it ruins your vocal cords.
2. Do drugs? Only coffee. And shopping.
3. Have sex? Quite.
4. Sleep with stuffed animals? Not since I was seven.
5. Live in the moment? Sometimes
6. Have a boyfriend/girlfriend? I am married to a SNAG
7. Have a dream that keeps coming back? Yes.
8. Play an instrument? I sing, and play the cello. I'm learning to play the piano.
9. Believe there is life on other planets? I believe it's possible.
10. Remember your first love? Yes
11. Still love him/her? Not romantically
12. Read the newspaper? Sometimes.
13. Have any gay or lesbian friends? Yes
14. Believe in miracles? Yes
15. Believe it's possible to remain faithful forever? Yes
16. Consider yourself tolerant of others? In theory, yes, in practice…not as much as I should be.
17. Consider love a mistake? Never
18. Like the taste of alcohol? Depends on the drink. I do /not/ like brandy or sherry.
19. Have a favorite candy? My favorite grocery store candy is York Peppermint Patties. 20. Believe in Astrology? Only as a form of entertainment.
21. Believe in magic? In the Clarke-ian sense.
22. Believe in God? I can't answer this within the confines of a survey
23. Pray? Not specifically.
24. Go to church? Only when I'm craving a free Bach concert
25. Have any secrets? Yes
26. Have any pets? Two small dogs.
27. Do well in school? I tested well, but never saw the point in homework. If I hadn't gone to a performing arts school, I'd never have survived high school.
28. Go to or plan to go to college? Yes. Hated that too. I don't do well in highly structured environments.
29. Have a major? I'll never tell.
30. Talk to strangers who instant message you? Not generally.
31. Wear hats? I collect hats.
32. Have any piercings? Two in each ear, though only one in each is ever used these days.
33. Have any tattoos? I have an on-again/off-again interest in tattoos. But no actual ones.
34. Hate yourself? I hate specific things about myself. Like, I hate that I'm shy, and snobbish.
35. Have an obsession? Words, books, reading.
36. Collect anything? Hats, rare books, fountain pens, stationery
37. Have a best friend? Yes, actually.
38. Wish on stars? Never.
39. Like your handwriting? I used to have really nice handwriting. Now, thanks to computer work, I don't. Ugh.
40. Have any bad habits? Yes.
41. Care about looks? Sometimes.
42. Believe in witches? Not in the Halloween-ish green skin and warts sense.
43. Believe in Satan? No.
44. Believe in ghosts? Yes, for the most part. Or at least, I believe in the possibility.
45. Believe in Santa? No.
46. Believe in the Easter Bunny? No.
47. Believe in the Tooth Fairy? No.
48. Have a second family? Yes. In fact, I have my own room at my friend J's house in Littleton.
49. Trust others easily? No.
50. Like noise? Sometimes.
51. Take walks in the rain? Yes.
52. Kiss with your eyes closed? Sometimes.
53. Sing in the shower? Always.
54. Own handcuffs? No
55. Have any scars? One.

I can't focus on what I'm doing, or what I'm trying to get done, or even on stringing together coherent sentences, so, here's a quizlet for which I blame . I'm rather disturbed by how accurately this result depicts my mood right now. I really need to interact with people more, I think.

Which of the Mayfair Witches are YOU Most Like?

Find out now! Only from the Quiz Junkie

And then there's this quizlet, which I'm blaming for, because she doesn't get blamed for enough :)

What Natural Disaster are you? Take the quiz!

I don't do quizzes very often. Well I do, I just rarely post them.
In any case, I did

What Egyptian Deity are you? go to:the quiz!

I've been awake since five AM Central time, after going to bed around one AM central time, so if this is disjointed, I'm pinning it on jet lag.

Our last day in Minneapolis was a lazy one. We were up early for breakfast, because it came with the room and all. I'm not usually a breakfast eater, though I love breakfast food. One of the things I miss from working at Gateway is the nightly Perkins trip after working swing shift. The goal was always to get from work to Perkins early enough to get a certain round table in Pruitt's section, and then to be out before 2 AM when Scary Vaccuum Guy showed up. In any case, three years of swing-shift and a lifelong tendency towards nocturnalism have combined with the effect of me being unable to eat before 10 AM, so being awake for breakfast, and actually eating it, was a rare treat.

We then went back to the room and napped, because we could. There's something really indulgent in sprawling in a comfortable bed, with only the whirring of the air conditioner to lull you into blissful sleep.

Later, we made our pilgrimage to the Mall of America. For such a huge place, it manages to boast two things that I wish all malls could offer: There is always parking, and even though there are masses of people, it never feels excessively crowded. Add the fact that it has Macy's, Nordstrom, and Bloomingdale's all under one roof, and you have Shopping Ecstasy. Yes, I bought stuff, but just clothes, nothing interesting. I missed the Fossil store and now I regret it, because I really need a new watch.

Just as we were entering the mall, our friend Ben called and said, “We're all doing dinner, and we feel bad for not spending time with you. You must come, and you get to choose the restaurant.” I suggested Ichiban, which is sort of like Benihana. The nice thing about such places is that you can watch the chef if there's a lull in conversation. Still, the group was a warm one: Ben, Julia, Fuzzy, me, Ben's dad, who flew in from London, his brother and sister-in-law, who flew in from Wales, and his mother and stepfather, who live in Rapid City. I generally get lost in crowds, because it takes me a long time to warm up to folks, but two cosmos while we were waiting for our table really helped.

Back to the hotel, where we packed, and forced ourselves back to bed. I was so concerned about mising our alarm that I slept in two hour chunks, waking up to glance at the time, and then going back to sleep. This wasn't planned, just something my brain loves to do to me. We were the first people to eat breakfast this morning, but it was 6:30, so I guess that's not unusual. I'm glad I insisted that we get up so early, though, because we managed to get lost on the 14-minute drive to the airport.

Then, there was the usual race to get through security, where, for once, I was not selected for random bomb-sniffing. The x-ray operator made envious comments about Fuzzy's laptop, but I protested that mine was cuter. He said, “No, bigger is better. It is a man-thing,” in a really beautiful Jamaican or Haitian accent.

The plane trip home was as packed as the trip here, with even more children. At one point, they asked for volunteers because the trip was oversold (how, I ask, can you oversell a flight, when they assign seats at ticketing?), so we volunteered. It turned out they didn't need our seats, but they gave us certs for extra miles just for offering. I could write an entire entry on the lack of attention paid by parents to the children on this plane, but that will wait. In the meantime, at least I'm home, groggy, and tired, and still getting used to such dark hair.