The Language of Lagomorphs

Well, I’ve confirmed what I already knew but was in semi-denial about. I’m addicted. Although, I have to say, I did not nag my husband EVEN once to stop playing that stupid car racing game and get the computer put back where it belonged so I could get online, dammit! 🙂 haha! Yesterday is over, and we’ll just leave it there. Today was pretty mellow. Being the superniceinfactunbelieveablynice wife that I am, I cleaned up the horrendous mess of dishes and bottles and glasses and whatnot wreckage from a very successful men’s dinner party last night while my extremely hungover...

I’ll be testing the limits of my internet addiction this weekend. Anders is hosting a men’s dinner party (Mårtens Gås) tomorrow night and they are going to be playing Superbike 2001 in the living room with two sets steeringwheel/joystick/whatever the hell they use setups. Which means the computer is being ripped from its comfortable nest of cables and I won’t be able to get online the rest of the weekend until he puts it back together, most likely on Sunday after getting tired of my incessant harping reminders. carrieb is in fine form tonight. “Inject me with your sperm!” LOLOL!!...

We weren’t prepared for Karin. I joke sometimes that if we’d had her first, she would have been an only child. Anders always gets upset when I say that, though. We had it so easy with Martin when he was a baby, that we thought we had the baby thing aced. Karin pulled the rug out from under our parenting feet. She hit the ground running and her motto is still full speed ahead. I wrote this about her when she was 2 years old: Karin makes me so upset because she screams bloody murder when she doesn’t get her...

Only one more needed to get to the amount of usual suspects on the ever revolving pregnant list of people I know. C’mon galestorm, are you SURE you don’t want to join in the fun? muahahaha!! I am SO NOT IN THE MOOD to work right now. Or be at work. Or do any work. at work. I’d tell you how I really feel but then I’d have to go lie down. So, instead of working, I’ve been surfing the web (what else?) but haven’t really come upon anything funny or interesting enough to share. I am, however, just flabbergasted...

The kind of thing I have to proofread: This function tells the FTP component that the FTP Client wants to communicate to the indicated FTP Server, referenced with the ‘BtAddress’, ‘ServiceId’ or ‘ServiceName’. Neither the ‘ServiceId’, nor the ‘ServiceName’ are mandatory, thus either ‘ServiceId’ or ‘ServiceName’ makes a service unique for a particular Push Server. The specified ‘ConnectInfo.MaxObexPktLen’, is negotiated with the FTP Server. A connection can be established with a packet size smaller than or equal to the ‘ConnectInfo.MaxObexPktLen’. If ‘ServiceId’ is specified, the connect request can be confirmed positive, meaning the particular service was found, or negative (service...

We used to do that with dandelions in full bloom. Hold them tight just under the blossom and sing: “Momma had a baby and her head popped off.” And then we’d flick our thumbnails upwards and sever the flower from the stem. Pretty gruesome, when you think about it. I wanted to flick my thumbnail up and pop off my own head this morning. Woke up with the Mother of all Migraines and couldn’t move for fear of my head doing a nosedive to the floor all by itself. I was in full sympathy with carrieb‘s desire to pop out...

First of all, I want to say thank you to everyone who commented on my earlier post today. It’s nice to know that people notice and care when something bad happens, even if it’s just shit at work making me crazy. Because I didn’t have time to post during the day and was uncomfortable writing about it while AT work, I’m a little behind on commenting on my friends’ entries, so: reebert, your new haircut is flattering and gorgeous! 🙂 jes6ica, isn’t proofreading fun? Chemical intelligence sounds like what most drunks have. jema, we’re reading Lovely Bones for book club...

WHY do I have to tear up or cry when I get REALLY mad?! I’m so pissed at work right now I could scream.

Nearly every morning when I drop Martin off at school, a crowd of little blonde girls comes running up to him. The other boys on the playground are playing 4-square or kicking a soccer ball around or wrestling and the girls pretty much totally ignore them. When the girls have birthday parties, Martin is the only boy they invite (besides their brothers). When HE has a birthday party, I have to remind him that at least a couple of boys need to make the invitation list. Last week when Eva was bringing her two boys to choir and told them...