happy Chinese new year. I am a snake.

today while eating lunch I discovered that I really dislike hearing people talk about beef in casual conversation. two women sitting within earshot of me were discussing cuts of meat and how they like them and I felt a strong revulsion for the topic grow in me like a boil on a backside. or something. I discovered that, in particular, "baby back ribs" irritates me most. it might be that one restaurant's fault, I'm not sure, but I just hate hearing those three words, in that order, at all times.

the other day at work I had an email exchange with Amy:

me: I am having an internal conflict and I need your help. I have to go to the bathroom really bad, but I've got this frozen yogurt in front of me that will melt if I go away. I don't know who's going to win, but right now I'm betting on my stomach.

Amy: oh that is a tricky one, although I've learned in the past that it's best not to tempt the holding powers of a bladder. as you now know. because you are running.

[I really was running to the bathroom while she was typing that--all of a sudden there was an urgent need.]

me (after my return from the bathroom): ohhhhh if only it were my bladder in this case. my bladder isn't as poowerful as this was.
hahaha, poowerful.

at this point, Amy and I started laughing like crazy people and then my boss approached my desk. I quieted my laughter for a count of three and while my boss was in the middle of asking me a question, I burst out laughing right in her face.

I am a tactful and refined lady. as everyone knows.

requisite effing bar update: I went downstairs to talk to the bar manager last night around 9:30, when the sound was at its apex, and my across the hall neighbors were sitting right there at the door, having drinks! TRAITORS! anyway, I did talk to the manager about the noise, over the pointing and whispering of the bartenders, and he assured me that they were "working on it." when I asked if he could at least turn down the bass, he said he already had once that night. then I offered that he should come upstairs to hear how loud it is in my bedroom and he said there was no need, he believed me, they're working on it with the landlord, it isn't going to happen in a week, but he was glad I came down because they didn't want me to call the police anymore. or something like that. btw, the only two speakers in the place are mounted directly under my bedroom.

after the conversation between me and the manager ended, my neighbors and I chatted and they offered me about twenty different temporary solutions, which had me feeling like a dolt after saying, "oh, that's a good idea," or "hmm, hadn't thought about that," one too many times.

and that's the news for now.

I apologize for the "poowerful" thing.

well, not really.