Important: I am looking for coffee work or some other part time works, since my retail hours have been cut to almost nil (it is not a hint–no one has hours). If you know of anything, email me sj at this domain, especially if you can nepotize me in somewhere. I would not look off professional work, either, but I have to be honest. Headhunters are not even calling me anymore, and everyone and your mom has a hiring freeze on. Trying to avoid sucking dick for drug money, but all else is fair game.

I am kind of at peace now, because after talking to some nerds, doing various works, etc, I have discovered that Hester Prynne is dead. Like, dead as snap crotch bodysuits (you heard me). You may recall that recently I replaced the hard drive. Apparently that caused the motherboard to get all shitty with me and fry.

I have to tell you honestly that I have this little feeling of panic along with the peace, because I have always played games. Always. I started with Atari in…I dunno…’83? My stepfather had a coin op business and for a while we had an arcade-sized Centipede down in our rumpus room. To this day, I still occasionally have dreams in Centipede colors (green and purple FTW). We moved on to Commodores and Segas. After that I had PCs or my own, or lived with boys with consoles. Now I have nothing. I know this is absolutely nothing in the face of any kind of real crisis, like a splinter or being out of mustard, but it makes me sad that I have come to have a hobby that is expensive up front. I was also hoping to start reviewing games more, as I did recently with World of Goo. Who wants to read a review of Minesweeper?

I also almost complete destroyed my AbacusTop with Trojans. I blame 2 a.m. porn. SO RONERY! But now all is well. If this keeps up, I may have to start playing Nationstates 2 or something. Into browser-based purgatory I go.

Hey! Who wants to cook up another generation of speshul snoflakes? What’s that? People with kids my age? Looks like.

A few folks have written to ask about gifts, and here’s what we’ve decided to do: we’re having a book exchange. The idea here is that each child arrives with a (wrapped) book, and each child gets to go home with a different (wrapped) book. This way everyone has a surprise and, with any luck, a book they don’t already own! Most of the party time will be spent jumping around in the gym, then at the end we’ll have a treat and exchange gifts. The “let’s-minimize-conflict” model has the presents remain wrapped during the party.

I was thinking about skipping prezzies at Strudel’s upcoming quatroceanara, because I don’t know half the kids or the parents who will be dropping said kids off, but Ruby snapped me out of it. “Kids need to watch someone else have the limelight,” she said. Then I got the above email and tabled it after putting a few more dents in my desk with my head. Now children’s parties have models. I guess I am a little burned out lately, because every single party we get invited to is at a large corporate partyspace. I know, I know, it’s winter. Still.

Rather than actually concluding this post, I will just catch you up pictorially. Recently Strudel’s dad invited me to his holiday party, which happens in late January. It was at the Museum of Flight. We were the only ones who danced practically, which made him a pariah at work, and this is among people who could not even be arsed to show up! BOOOO! You cannot play JT and expect me to hold still, ffs.

SUPER KAWAII OR SOMETHING!

Here I am in my robe of getting readyness. I am trying to make increasingly larger victory rolls. They went great with my ’50s style dress and digital watch.

WOW it’s Carl Sagan’s sweater. It had billyuns and billyuns of moth holes.

There goes my buttercuppy. Well, both of them. Bye jerks! Die jerks!

I will miss the eggs. We’ll always have omNOMNOMomlettes.

My grammar is atrosh today. Monkeychow OUT.