Happy ranting Sabbath

Yesterday I had a number of unpleasant customer service interactions that left me so completely pissed off with the universe that I came home.  I gave the finger to my server, imagine that.  I hate it when people understand you fine when you’re handing them money and then can’t speak English when you want a refund.  That wasn’t the only moment of irritation.  Apart from the glorious sun and the library the trip was a loss.

I picked up a book (by, thank god, somebody Chinese who could do the research in both languages) about Charlie Chan – who was based on a real character so much cooler than Charlie Chan that it’s amazing.  Chang Apana once arrested 40 gamblers without backup OR A GUN – just a bullwhip – and if it the long arm of the law gets cooler than a five foot nothing illiterate Chinese guy deputized to the Honolulu police department busting 40 gamblers in 1904 with a bullwhip, I dunno what the hell does.  Jackie Chan, please make that fucking movie!!!!  Apana was also a COWBOY and wore a cowboy hat = STUNT POSSIBILITIES.  Damn fine cook and houseboy too.  Had a lotta kids.  More than one wife, but he sent money to the one that went back to China until the end of his life; he was not a man who took on obligations lightly.

This morning, homemade hazelnut chocolate filling for Finn pancakes.  Hope Jeff likes it.

Coen Brothers movie A Serious Man.  Meh.

Finished the Songwriter input for “Bob Dylan’s New Years’ Day.”  I thought I had it before, but when I listened to it I was like “No, no, no, that’s all wrong, that’s screwed up.” Sounds much better on playback now.

I think my toe – this is March, right? – which has been screwed up since the last pedicure in November (and no, I am never going there again) – has finally healed up.  Ingrown toenails have been adding to my complete and utter crabbiness; it’s one of the reasons I sleep downstairs as I don’t wake myself up kicking the ladder on the bunkbed and screaming and writhing for a few minutes. Restless leg syndrome is just another one of the ways my body chooses to up the ante on “fuck you”.

I tidied up the yard yesterday; I’m sure the neighbors across the street are happy they no longer have to look at the fucking newspapers that blew all over the front yard. I don’t want the damned things anyway but some underpaid fool keeps bringing them.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind getting his toenails cut.  All he did was mew quietly a couple of times when I trimmed him yesterday. Cats are not supposed to click.  Predators are supposed to be silent.

Margot watched Nascar and Stargate Universe with us yesterday.  V strange watching her watch tv.  Watching Nascar with Al Jazeera running next to it was the ne plus ultra of weird juxtapositions yesterday.

The justice thing for John was supposed to happen this weekend and didn’t.  Another annoyance – nobody said anything to me about it.

Now I’m going to go to church and see if I can get this mood off me.  Soup lunch today.  I have to go buy buns, I forgot to yesterday.