Aw, man, it's so good to have a work friend! She's just as bewildered and amused by the weird world of the loan center and we just snark, snark, snark the day away.

I made her day today by telling her something which has secretly been cracking me up for weeks. See, each "associate" has a five letter abbreviation of their name, which represents them in the database. When we enter in the processor who's loan we're setting up, we have to enter this abbreviation. So, I made her day by telling her that one of the processor's abbreviations is FATHO. Hee. I crack up every time I type it in because I have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy. Oh, and in case you were wondering, no, she's not.

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I'm a Supermodel! Shut up, I am.

After work, I went to get my hair cut. Christy, the girl who cuts my hair, is funky and hilarious and DAMN can she cut hair. Incidentally, she also cuts Kate's hair, so gradually as my hair got longer and Kate's got shorter, the cuts started getting more similar. People at the gym confuse us all the time which is INSANE because we look absolutely nothing alike. Maybe it's just that people are used to seeing the two hot girls with crazy red hair together? Then, when we separate, they get all confused just can't figure out who's who?

(Kate, Christy said that Mr. Bootcamp thought you were me. Ha! It's high time he invaded someone else's personal space for a change. Lord, what a freak.)

ANYWAY, the cool part is that Christy asked me (and Kate too!) to be a hair model! This means free cut and color and my picture posted somewhere in the salon. Free? Yes please. Rules. Free is good. I have no hair fear, so I don't even give a shit what she does to me. Hee.

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Pointless Complaints Go Here.

You know what I hate? The Nike Goddess stupid website. Goddamn, I just want to look at the over-priced workout gear! I just want to LOOK AT IT. PREFERABLY WHEN IT'S NOT WAVY AND MOVING. Jesus, people actually shop on that site? Good luck figuring it out.

First, the fucking splash page. Yeah, designy designy blah blah blah. I want to look at the clothes, not deal with a un-user-friendly design. I'm not some 1997-era lunk-head who's awed and drooling by the shiny, shiny website. Also, some of us poor folks still use dial-up and don't have 18 hours to wait for the shit to load.

Okay, if you have time, go to the site and look on the left where it says Run. Now, see the model who's wearing the cool red top? I wish to own it. Can I buy it on the website? Apparently freaking not. I can't find it anywhere on that horrible scrolling thing. Wouldn't you think if you're going to spotlight an item of clothing, it should actually be for sale on the site? Stupid Nike. Maybe all the third-world sweatshop child workers went on strike? Good for them.

PS. if you click on an item, don't, for the love of God, click your browser's back button or the whole 18-hour-load thing happens all over again. Grah.

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More Nature Talk.

Every morning, Kenny sprinkles birdseed on the railing of the back porch and every morning there are hungry birds waiting impatiently for breakfast. We let the cats watch through the screen door and, I swear, it's like CaTv. They watch with a fierce concentration, only an occasional low chattery noise or tail thump lets you know their true desire.

Sometimes, if I'm feeling very mean, I'll tell Fuzz and Stella what each kind of food each bird tastes like. Cardinals taste like red velvet cake, the little sparrows are chicken nuggets, an doves taste surprisingly like cream cheese.

This morning, there were dueling adolescent bird gangs- bluejays on one side of the railing and doves on the other. It was like West Rail Story! The Jays and The Grays duke it out!

"When you're a Jay you're a Jay all the way, from yer first cigarette to yer last dying day..."

Ha, okay then.

0 chatty monkeys