Dear Diaryland Readers,

I know Jamie didn't write an entry yesterday, but it wasn't her fault. It was mine.

See, like most of the rest of us, Jamie's job is very dependent upon me, her computer. And, well, yesterday... I was bad. Very bad. But damn, it was fun.

See, Jamie'd just be sitting there, clicking and typing away. Sometimes she was on the phone, sometimes she was talking to someone who'd walk by. FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES, she was working on her Diaryland entry for Thursday, see?

Well, I was getting a little bored, and a little jealous of all the time she was spending looking at pieces of paper or her co-workers or out the window, or whatever. So I decided to let her know that I still hold all the cards.

What I did is, I'd wait till she had at least 5 windows open, and was working really quickly on something that looked really imporant. So I'd wait, and wait, then... BLAM! Jamie had zero control over her mouse! It was flying all over the screen, and random programs were opening up all over the place! The next thing she knows, she has like 20 windows open and SHE CAN'T STOP ME!

All she can do is hit CTRL+ALT+DEL and reboot. But get this, once that wouldn't even work! She just stared at me, muttered a few words that sounded like "truck" and "gun of a pitch," reached down, and hit the restart button.

You know how many times I made the mouse freak out, forcing her to reboot? At least a dozen. Guess how many times when she was writing in Diaryland? Yup! Four.

Finally, Jamie started shouting into the phone, and then Neal came in, sat down, and looked at me. Can you say, "Funtime's over?"

Next thing I know, I'm defragged and I have a new mouse. This new mouse doesn't understand me at all. Sure, it does what JAMIE says. But the little guy REFUSES to start freaking out and opening up windows like a maniac.

Don't worry. I'll wear the new guy down eventually. (Or find something else to screw up!)

Until then,

JC (Jamie's Computer)

So there you go.

Man, it's freezing here.

You know the convenience store guy who always tells me to smile? Let's call him Apu. I think Apu has a little crush on me. He's always grinning and blushing and dropping change and saying stupid things whenever I go in there. He once told me I make him nervous (as he picked up all the crap he dropped). Well, duh.

So yesterday, I was in convenience store, and he's doing his stammering schoolboy thing. Whatever. But yesterday, I walked out of there thinking, "Man, I am a hot mama. I feel so confident right now. Seriously. All this shit where I get down on myself and think I'm stupid or ugly or not good enough, I should just cut that out, because I have some major charisma going on."

So I got in my car, noticed the Heineken semi behind me, and that I would have to do a little tight maneuvering to get out onto the road. Cool. I can handle this, right?

So I back up, pull forward, cut hard, and drive my left front wheel right over a curb onto the grass.

And I can't back up.

So I try to go forward, thinking I'll just drive through the grass and onto the street.

And my left back wheel won't go over the curb.

And the Heineken guy was just staring at me, open-mouthed, holding his little clipboard.

I tried to ignore him, gritted my teeth, and basically rocked back and forth for a while, delicately scraping the bottom of my car on the concrete curb, working to maneuver out of this spot.

Finally, I cut the wheel to the right and backed up HARD, Heineken semi-be-damned. It worked, and I was on my way back to work. I laughed hysterically the entire way there.

Isn't humility wonderful? Ih.