Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

... And Cancel Christmas!

Christmas is cancelled.

Come out this morning, my laptop is dead. D-E-D dead. No power. Nada. Flickers pathetically at me. Extended tech discussion (after my phone number popping up sends the techs into a DefCon 4 panic and the one with the shortest straw has to take my call without benefit of cyanide pills) resulting in the same bloody conclusion I came to half an hour before my total hysterics started -- Power Supply, 1 each, D-E-DOA.

Estimated time before box gets here: Saturday. Estimated time for it to be fixed: How does some time in 2005 sound?

All my client information is on that harddrive. All the documents. To work, I'm going to have to email every one of them, providing I can find all the email addresses somewhere in my brain, and ask them to resend.

The images and base files I had been finishing as Christmas presents for others are all on that machine. No presents now. Shit. I'm sorry, guys. Dammit.

The money DG and I were given as pretty much the total of our presents from the monster is Gone. Spent. Poof. All the little things add up. No presents for us.

Big freakin winter storm last few days. Pooka has no limbs, just these deformed objects that used to limbs and are now closer to nuclear meltdown. "Whoosh, into the ground. Like a big ole glowing gopher!" I couldn't sleep last night. Hurt too much.

Had my first severe asthma attack in months last night while failing to achieve sleep.

The weekend at the monster's was mostly awful. She started on me before I even finished getting out of the car. I'm not even going to go into that Hell. It's not worth the additional stress. At least the Things got presents.

Did see Two Towers with Klash and Lisa. Only bright point to the weekend. DG got pulled over for speeding on the way home.

We get home, to find out that Voodoo had another car wreck. At least he's safe and alive.

I feel like I'm in a twisted virtual reality version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," surrounded by mutant Whos.

We're here. We're together. We're alive.

It will have to be enough.

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