I want to sell my sisters to the gypses

About two years ago, I decided that when I turned 40, my gift to myself would be doing something fun--something for me. I decided that I'm going to change my name--not completely change it, but I'm going to add two names to the one my father and mother gave me at birth.

After all--my first name is not after anyone that I know of--my middle name is my father's first name--but...no one in my family calls me by either names. I've ALWAYS been referred to by a totally different name.

Perhaps that's why I'm a stickler for being David and not Dave...

Anyway...I decided that I was going to add the name my family has called me all my life to the mix, as well as the name I've gone by for nearly half of my life. Not taking anything away. Just adding.

And...

My sisters, the trolls, have fuckin' freaked. All I've heard since I made this decision is how much it'll hurt Dad, and how much my name means to him...so much so that everytime I've tried to discuss this, they've basically gnashed their teeth...

Now...

Dad's sister Anna is getting weaker. He's left Arizona earlier than normal this year to be with her and his other sister, Lila, as they wait for Anna to make her final journey. This ALS crap is taking a lot out of the families--and of course, that's another thing I'm being bugged about--since I'm not there to see it every day, I MUST NOT CARE about anyone in the family.

Fuck.

Gypsies.

Or white slavers.

Hey...maybe I can get a trade-in on them!

Anyway...

Peace.

Birthdays and Coworkers

So, I typically am not on campus this semester before 9...hell, if I can help it, it's between 11 and 11:30. All my classes are in the afternoons...

Today, though, I'm here early proctoring a set of exams for my friend Brian. His father's funeral was yesterday, and I'm more than happy to do this for him. That's what friends do, right? (Fucker even said he'd buy me a bottle of wine--to which I gave him the big hairy eyeball and said "I don' think so, Lucy!")

Anyway...I hate traffic in this town between 7 and 8:30. Stop-and-flippin'-go the entire five miles from home to work. Not only that, but there's always the drivers of the Urban Assault Vehicles yakking on their phones while drinking coffee that want to drive in my lane as well as their own that makes it nerve racking! It took me about 5 minutes longer to get to work, and then, get everything from the car into the office...

Now...I share an office with two other people. I like it. It's big, roomy, overly-bright, and pale, but...I like it. I also like the people I'm sharing an office with. Good people, Shannon and Jags. But, this morning, I pop open the door...and there's this...

smell...

and...

presence...

With a great bit of trepidation, I flip on the light...knowing I'd been pranked...but, also wondering if they decided it was my turn to hide the body...and I see that my entire corner of the office has been draped.

Yup.

Draped.

Remember those people that would do 'drapeings' in the early '90's to find out what type of colors you have? Me, I'm an autumn or mid-spring.

My desk is death.

It's shrouded in black. My coworkers got black picnic table covers (ya know the type--plasticized paper--cheap, disposable, fill-the-landfill-crap) and made a hut. Not just the walls, mind you, but the put a flipping ceiling on it, too! There's black streamers all over...

And the best part?

They took random things from my desk and bookshelves, including my mouse, telephone books, keyboard, and my chair, and wrapped them in black crepe paper!

By this time, I'm just having a major giggle fit, and I look at the clock on the wall, and there IS no clock there! Instead, there's a big flippin' sign that says "Hut for the Terminally Aged."

I'm in tears by this time. Luckily, I was able to get into my desk without a problem, got Brian's tests out, and then, threw all my morning stuff onto my cart and wheeled to class.

After logging on, I sent the criminal friends that did this a quick note...

I want to know if they took pictures.

*LOLOL*