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indigo montoya

Hi Journal, its me again.

Posted on 2007.05.17 at 03:11
Hello Journal,

Today I'm writing to you, because I'm still awake. It's nearly a quarter after 3, and I just can't seem to get to bed. I figure that while I'm awake, I'll avoid the bed like the plague, which I suppose is a good thing. After all, the powers that be in certain mediatastic authority insist that the bed be only used for sleeping and sex.

Sleeping and Sex. That's an extremely limited amount of goodness to do in such a wonderfully comfy zone. I think just for that I'm going to acquire an overbed type table, or at the very least a 'c' frame table to serve as both a night stand and a computer desk for me. I figure that it can't be that hard to create, I might just have a PVC bits and pieces. Well, more bits than pieces, which I think would be helpful. Worst case scenario is that I draw a schematic, then hand my dad a 20 and send him off to home depot to create my vision of wonderfulness.

I can see it now, all shiny and grand.

I'll spray paint it silver, and make it look like it should be strapped to the back of a delorian.

Yeah. This sounds good.

Ok, dear Journal, thanks for listening to my stream of thoughts.
I think I'm going to post to you in this format for at least a while.

With love, and knowledge that my charachter just landed in the Rutherean village, I'm off to play WoW a while then head to bed. Before 4. I promise.
--Cashew

indigo montoya
Posted on 2007.05.16 at 15:03
gURL.comI took the "The Nine Muses" quiz on gURL.com
My muse is...
Urania

Urania is the patron goddess of astronomy. Her name means "Heavenly" because she keeps her sights on the stars. Often depicted with a globe, Urania can elevate her followers to great fame. Read more...

Who is your muse?

indigo montoya
Posted on 2007.05.03 at 13:34

indigo montoya

This is Major Cashew checking in!

Posted on 2007.05.03 at 03:31
How I'm doin: tiredtired
hello all who read this blog, I know it's been a while. I think I must be one of the least reliable bloggers out here in the 'blogosphere'. Is that even a word? I can't say, I don't really know. At the very least, I'm going to post a 'What's going on in the life of the greatest nut the world has ever known" (can you suppose I've been listening to too much Chickenman on the radio lately?)


As for what's up, the move is complete. We're in the new apartment, still living out of boxes. Slowly but surely, it's shaping up to be quite interesting. We have new furniture, and a collection of candles to rival most monasteries. (Many thanks to various online sources to teach me to spell monastery, and not have it looking for a vaginal cream.)

Work is still work. It still sucks, and, as dead end as it is, it's still a paycheck at the end of every week. If nothing else, they haven't fired me yet, and I've come to the conclusion that they'll have to terminate my employment for me to leave. You can't vacation on unemployment if you quit. Oh well, I figure that I have a few more good years in me there, so if you're feeling up to visiting me at my workplace as either a patient or visitor to the clients, I'll probably be there or a while. Most likely chance though, because of the stupid overnight shift I'm working, I'll probably say 'hi!' then kick you out because I come in about an hour before visiting hours are up. 8pm rolls around and 'EVERYBODY OUT OF THE POOL!"

I just realized that I never use the left shift button on my computer, I've figured out that I only use the one on the RIGHT and type with my other fingers around it to make up the difference. It's considerably odd, but I suppose that it's me in a nutshell.

Wedding planning is going slowly. I have to call the fort and see if they have an updated price list and menu. The one I got the last time I was up there is old, and odds are that the prices went up. A minor price increase is something I can deal with. It appears that my family acknowledges that they will be ponying up a fair share of the wedding expenses. I'm considering having the ceremony at the fort too, a simple handfasting. A fast fasting? But, (and here goes that beginning of the sentence use of a preposition that I know is practically illegal now-a-days. Watch me flaunt destroying grammar laws like they were marshmallow peeps in the microwave!) but, like I was saying, I don't even have an officiant in mind. If anyone who reads this has any ideas, let me know!

The main reason that the wedding is on my mind is that I recently got a reminder e-mail from the Knot that says 'Hi, its 18 months from your date. Get your ass in gear!' I'm seriously considering a maypole dance at the wedding. It'd be interesting, if nothing else.

What else?

I suppose that would be the end of my post. I should probably crawl back into bed. I passed out around eightish or so, and woke up around one or two. I washed my makeup brushes and fixed the shaker pots of my bare minerals makeup (which I think is the only stuff that really works for me). I'm continually practicing with it until I get good enough so that I can do it on my own big day. Somehow I don't think that a professional makeup artist is an option price-wise for the wedding. We'll see. Somehow I want to keep the wedding under 10k. Wish me luck... food alone is going to cost 5-6k. This should be interesting.

Mildly stressed,
Your Favorite Nut!
(She's everywhere, She's everywhere!)
Cashew!

indigo montoya
Posted on 2007.03.30 at 15:22
Plucked from: http://awkwardthingsisaytogirls.com/2007/02/why-geeks-make-good-lovers/

Why Geeks Make Good Lovers

One of the Universal Truths that lie just beyond the fabric of modern society is the axiom that geeks, along with nerds and other peoples who overinvest in intelligence but boast underdeveloped social skills, make the best lovers. Once people realize this, the sexual revolution that will sweep through western culture will make the seventies look like the fifties, and I’m not talking about wider pants. The reasons why geeks are unparalleled as lovers are simple and many:

Geeks don’t sleep around. Geeks, through their higher IQ and therefore greater understanding of the tragedy of human condition, know that the dice only seem to have more sides on the other side of the table. Hence, they instinctively stay loyal to their lovers through thick and thin. Their social skills are also not well developed enough to support an affair, and frankly, geeks generally aren’t quite sure how they ended up with the lover they have attracted. When you date a geek, you know the geek will be yours until you are done.

Geeks are good at the things they try. When’s the last time you met a geek who didn’t have some secret skill just simmering below the surface of a simple-seeming life, honed in the wee hours of the night? It could be hacking, playing video games, or the ability to insert and remove those stupid computer power plug things from drives without cursing or breaking a finger. Let sex become their new favorite late-night hobby, and you know that a geek won’t quit until he or she has learned how to hack into your brainstem through specific genitalia interfacing in parallel with general dermal and oral bonding.

Geeks are not interested in status. Geeks became geeks because they chose to spend their time doing things that would not necessarily make them popular with everyone else in school, like sports and fashion. The ability to resist peer pressure is important to a geek. This means that a geek is more interested in their or your happiness than looking good to others, which will come in handy when either (a) you need attention, in any sort ranging from the nurturing to the lascivious, and also, because both of those things are not necessarily unorthagonal dimensions, any combination of the two, or (b) you need to be rescued because it is the climax of a teen 80’s movie. Or both.

Geeks haven’t formed bad habits. After years of serially dating lots of other women, many socially successful guys have become too confident to be intimate, think of women only for sex, and don’t have any intention of letting what in their minds is “just another girlfriend” enjoy the last spring roll. Let us not even pry into the diabolical, dark, twisted, and depraved mind of the girl who has serially dated many men. None of this is true of the geek, however. The lack of past romantic partners allows the geek to approach lovers with the zest of the neophyte. Geeks are not full of romantic confidence; however, once coaxed from their emotional holes like tame bunnies, they are eager to please and enjoy their newfound relationship.

Geeks can concentrate. Geeks can focus their energy on one task with the intensity of a hunting cheetah. Granted, the task they are focusing on may have more to do with hunting orcs with a +1 Sword of Piercing rather than hunting gazelles with claws, but the fact remains that a geek, once set upon a task and given Mountain Dew, becomes a tireless slave to their goal. Put a six-pack of Dew on the bedside table and a geek between the sheets, and you have found yourself one relentless lover. When’s the last time all night actually meant all night? When’s the last time you were with someone who, if they needed more of the night, knew how to get it?

Geeks have excellent finger dexterity. Geeks roll dice. Geeks play video games. Geeks flip pages in books. Geeks type a lot, and use characters like ~ and ^ and | that no one else has any use for. Geeks use calculators in postfix notation. As a result, a geek knows how to use his or her fingers to greatest possible effect. Whether you have a button that needs pushing or a joystick that needs joy, a geek is the person for the job.

Geeks have imagination. Once you have found your amazing lover, you wouldn’t want things to become boring. That is where geeks prove their real worth. Replayability is important to the value-conscious video-game playing geek, and this translates to relationships as well. Wouldn’t you want to date someone who has created a Quake 3 mod? Wouldn’t you want to date someone who has written steamy Everquest fan fiction involving elven incest? Wouldn’t you want to date someone who wished they were Morpheus rather than someone who wished they were Barry Bonds?

There are plenty of other reasons why geeks are the best lovers around, but don’t just take my word for it. Find the nearest sexy geek and coax that person into asking you out, even if you have to do so using instant messanger. Remember: the only non-sexy geek is a single geek.


indigo montoya

HUGE meme

Posted on 2007.03.28 at 16:03
(Click here to post your own answers for this meme.)

I miss somebody right now. × I don't watch much TV these days.  (most of the time.) I own lots of books.
I wear glasses or contact lenses. I love to play video games. × I've tried marijuana.
I've watched porn movies. × I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship. I believe honesty is usually the best policy.
I curse sometimes.  (alot, really) × I have changed a lot mentally over the last year. × I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.
it goes on...Collapse )

indigo montoya
Posted on 2007.03.22 at 20:05
iPod's rock.

In the last 48 hours, I've reloaded all of my ipod music from the ipod into the computer. Then, I formatted the iPod, and set it up to work on a Mac.

Now, I have all of my music.

This rocks.

I also bought Rich Voltaire's last 2 albums. They are cool.

--Cashew

indigo montoya

My adventure du jour

Posted on 2007.03.22 at 17:57
Hello friends, I had a day that could be classed as interesting to say the least.

My car developed a bit of an odour (see, polite adventure here... it'll get raunchier near the end, I just woke up so that I have to build up a little head of steam), an odor of burning oil. Finally, after said stinkiness, the dreaded oil light went on.

I went into a panicky mode. I knew that I had to take the car in. Need I mention that I do have a rudimentary knowledge of cars. A car without oil, is in all essences not unlike a heart in tamponade, or a knee without its lubrication. They're all prone to seizing. I was actually hoping that the issue would be a small leak.

Nope.

Why would I be that lucky? Apparantly, luck is not something I've come to have... ever. But, alas, what can I do but take the beloved Car... My first baby... eh em, I took the car to the auto shop. I was hoping to have them say, "It's a small hoozit(technical, eh?) gasket, it's a 25 cent part, and will take us a few minutes to repair."Then, the price quoted would be less than a paycheck.

No such luck.

"Well, all your gaskets are leaking, your oil pan is leaking, your belts internal and external are shot because they're covered in oil, and your oil level is at the bottom, that's why the light went on." Okay, I could accept that, as Car is in its tenth year. It's a good car, but then the price they quoted, "Um, ok, tallying all this stuff together, it comes up to," and I can hear the mechanic take in a deep breath, the kind one takes before rattling off a number more resembling the gross national deficit than an auto repair bill.

"Eighteen Hundred dollars for everything you should do."

My eyes water, I turn pale and I swallow the bile that had somehow decided to rise from my gallbladder and settle uneasily into my throat. I might if I didn't pay my bills, but there was no way on this green god's earth that I could afford that. Hell, that's FOUR paychecks. I'm moving in a few weeks. $1800 is my entire budget for furniture, moving and all other goodies.

(Don't mind me, I'm just fiddling with the iTunes, looking for some calming music.)

So, what do I do... The ultimate female cop-out when it comes to dealing with INSANE IN THE NUTBRAIN prices. "I need a minute to call my fiancé and see what he thinks about all of this. I'll be right outside."

I escaped and got some much needed air. Gulping a few breaths of cool refreshing air, I call my soon to be hubby, and GET HIS FRAGGIN VOICEMAIL. I know that his building has crap for reception, but, I manage to ramble off what I'm sure was a very disjointed e-mail. I complete my call, then make another one to him.

Success! It went through. I spoke to him for a few minutes, and he says, "Lemmie call my Dad," (Just to place everyone in the know, his Dad is some sort of Car guru.)

I get a call back minutes later, and Rich says that his Dad will take the car to his personal mechanic, who charges less for labor, and since they have a personal relationship, the repair will be done correctly, and for less money. Only thing, I may have to pay cash. Big whoop, I hate to say it, now-a-days to get anything done right, more often than not you've got to hand over a fistful of Benjamins. (Dear god, I've gone either guido or ghetto. Guietto. White kids with greased cornrowed hair, wearing a platinum hubcap around their neck. Nothin' but da SPINNAHS! Blech.) Mind you, in this time, I have a minor, "All I want to do is just get some sleep, I don't know what to do" breakdown. I've been a teary mess all day.

So I tell the guys in the shop that I want to pull the car off the lift, so that I can get a second opinion on what needs to be done. They look at me in disbelief for a minute, then comply. Rich's dad comes by with his other son, and drive with me to his personal mechanic. No prob, the guys at my regular shop filled Car up with oil, and give me an itemized list of everything that was wrong. Eighteen friggin hundred. For that much, I could put a decent downpayment on a new vehicle. Get a new vehicle, and we'd be a 2 car family again.

Rich's Dad is a very sweet man, this I cannot deny. A southern gent to be true, with a bit of a calming air... which is a good thing, considering that today, I was playing the role of the Panic Queen.(I think that the sheer personal stupidity from me was increased from my lack of sleep.)

So, in the end I went home, and found that the mo-mo's building the houses across the street have dug a several METER long hole in the brand new pavement. I'm pretty sure that's illegal. I plan on finding out, and hopefully getting these idiots fined, if at all possible. I believe that you need a permit. I don't think they had one. Why get a permit, ya know?

Okay, I'm off to chill a bit more... maybe take a shower, maybe epilady myself into oblivion, or maybe, I'll look into the "Linkin's boomerrang' mission on WOW. I think Rich and I are of appropriate level to do that one... He's a pally, but needs the Ranged weapon trinket.

Either way, it's sure to be an adventure.

Loves ya.
--Cashew

1) Have your music library ready
2) Choose one (1) song from your music library who's title starts with the first letter (or number) of your screen name
3) Repeat this process with each successive letter (or number) in your screen name until you run out of letters (or numbers)
4) Post up your results

I want you to want me-- Cheap Trick

A lot of Livin' to do- Sammy Davis Jr.
Money for nothing- Weird Al Yankovic

A Kind of Magic- Queen

Crash into me- Dave Matthews Band
A little bit me, a little bit you- Monkees
Screw the Okampa- Voltaire
His Name is Lancelot- Spamalot original Cast
El Mañana- Gorillaz
Wild and Untamed thing- Rocky Horror Punk Rock show

:)
that was fun

indigo montoya

A dissertation opon my employment

Posted on 2007.03.06 at 09:04
Howdy, fair readers of the occasional Cashew.

Today, I thought I'd give a bit of an exhausted ramble about my job.  Sometimes I love it, and sometimes I hate every last moment of it.  Last shift was a combination of both.   I run in, (my very usual skirting in about 5-10 minutes early so the other person I'm relieving can get home somewhat on time.  Just as a note, Nurses do not often go home on time.) and instantly feel like I have a fan club. "Cashew, are you going to be on my floor tonight?" and "Nurse, I missed you! You coming up to visit us tonight?" amongst other things.  I tend to have a great rapport with the residents in the home.  I'd say that out of the five hundred and change residents, about 30-40 % of them know me by name, and request me frequently.  The rest are short termers, (we've got about 145 rehab beds, and I'd say because I float, maybe 20% will know me by face, and maybe half of them will know me by name... They stay a short amount of time, and I'm not there all the time.)

Theres this young dude on rehab, he's not that much older than me, if at all.  He's in for a rehab course, and whenever he sees me anywhere in the building, he'll specifically ask for me to come and change his bandage.  I don't do it all the time, only when I"ve got about 25 minutes to spare (time is precious.  They mention it in nursing school, but they just don't mention exactly how precious that it actually is.). 

I do admit it, I've got exactly two residents who hate my guts.  one is confused, and hates everyone.  (she's suffering life, not living it.) and another, that due to a combination of bad choices and bad luck is young and stuck in the nursing home for life.  She hates me because I have no reservations about telling her no to some unreasonable requests.  (Asking for ice water, pain pills, or to go to the bathroom is not an unreasonable request.  Asking me to rearrange every picture on your wall, paint your fingernails, and elaborately style your hair when I'm busy is an unreasonable request.  Calling me bad things after I tell you no will cause me to tell you no again, and then walk out of the room to deal with the legitimately sick people.  PS... if you have the energy to scream and curse at me(or if you have the gusto to curse me worse than your average sailor), you don't have the right to call yourself a 'sick woman', when a terminal hospice cancer patient suffers silently because she has barely the energy to lift her head.

BTW.... I did 13 hours today and no break.  I didnt get to pee till I got home.  Did I mention I have to be back at 7. 

ok... gonna chase the cat away from the yarn.
love to all
--Cashew


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