Have I mentioned how ridiculously happy I am right now? It’s totally sickening. Oh my God, I gross me out. When people ask me how things with the VCB are I say things like, “Beautiful. Fucking amazing.” Because they so are. It’s thoroughly disgusting, and you should be glad I’ve spared you as much as I have, because I know how little people like to hear about other people’s perfect romances. It’s been hard, though. I sit down to write these days and all that I accomplish is a stupid grin at a blank page.

Work has even been kind of cool. At least Friday night was. At about 6:30 I’m in the kitchen when another server says to me, in passing, “All the lights in the 20s just went down.” I thought nothing of it, because they always dim the lights at dusk and occasionally somebody fucks it up. But then the kitchen got about 50 degrees hotter in about five minutes and it filled with stifling smoke. The saute and flat-top grills, the fryers, the dishwasher, the air conditioning–everything was down. The only lights in the dining room were on thanks to a generator. I watched my mangers’ eyes widen and their hearts sink. This was some Fucked Up Shit.

Before long the electric company was there asking everyone to leave the building. After waiting in the parking lot for close to an hour, they finally decided to shut down the restaurant for the night. I was home by 8:30. Sure, I only made $30, but coolest day at work EVER. In six years every time the lights flickered, the hot water went, the tornadoes came–we’ve never had to close down. It was incredibly gratifying in a way to be there when the machine collapsed.

I am, though, sad about my new keyboard. I bought a new one after ruining yet another with mere water. I was standing on the other side of the room when a glass of water tipped over and soaked my entire desk. I can burn through peripherals like Snoop Dog through a quarter sack, and yep, I had to fucking do it again. New mouse, new keyboard. [Please read the next line in as whiny a voice as possible.] And the keys are too tight. It makes me want to cry. I’d rather write in crayon on toilet paper in the rain than on this thing. The backspace button is as big as the ‘q’ or ‘4′ button. What the fuck is that shit? When I fuck up I do it BIG; I needs me a big ol’ fat delete button.

I’m gonna stand across the room and see if I can make water spill with my eyes again so I can justify buying another keyboard.

In other news, one of my all-time, most favorite bloggers in all the land has moved and gotten her own domain. Using Movable Type. Swanky. I wish I was smart enough to do Movable Type, so I could helped her and gotten my own hams against glass pics. Those would be a hottt commodity.

Also, BIG LOVE to Sir Mildred Pierce for hooking a girl the fuck up. He sent me enough CDs, cases, envelopes and postage to mail out 30 mix CDs. Isn’t that entirely too generous? And the package is already here, too. Which means I should whip that CD into shape, which I plan today on my day off tomorrow. It’s the order of the songs that has me snagged. It needs to be just so. Anyway, those who will recieve mixes based on their reasons for wanting one (and the real reason they were picked) are as follows: Sir Mildred Pierce (he funded the project), Mikro (since he made me one and he knows a whole shit-ton about music and I expect a full review, mister), yiekes (because I haven’t written about how life changing it was to meet her yet), Cooky (because she’ll be crazy about it), Mus (’cause I ran over her foot), yezbick (for getting naked) and battletapes (because he never, ever gets laid).

Oh yeah, and don’t sneezes feel fucking great?