aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (i hate our freedom)
[personal profile] aunthippie
Up early (cat was horking, a sound I am pathologically unable to ignore) and can't fall back asleep (husband has sleep apnea and didn't pack his mask, and listening to the sound of someone stopping breathing is not restful in the slightest) and also the menagerie that is my inlaws' house is awake. Might as well caffeinate and putz around on the intertubes, right?

One no longer horking cat with a bell around its neck and an echoing litterbox, check. One whining dog in the hallway, one tiny shih tzu noisily licking his private parts next to my head, check. Two birds starting to squawk and fight with one another underneath their night cover, check. One new bunny rabbit chewing (mostly) calmly away at her water bottle, check. FIL was complaining that each new pet lessens the chance that he'll be able to get what he *really* wants, which is a more child-friendly* dog. I threatened to build and fill a chicken coop in his backyard for his birthday, since he's wanted chickens on and off as well.

Am currently turning over the finalists for a legal name change- after years of dithering, starting around age 15, the new job gave me a chance to start using the name I'm 100% certain will be included. (The assembly floor is almost entirely Spanish-speaking. Not bilingual, mind. Just Spanish. Deirdre? didn't have a prayer.) After repeating and spelling the original 6 times- including to my entirely English-only boss, don't think the Dominican girls have a lock on mangling it- I threw my hands in the air and said "Frances." Everybody rejoiced, and with the exception of the Wandering Slav who for reasons unknown to me has decided it is "Francesca" I have gone a wonderful and non-mangled year with the new moniker.
Upsides: everybody gets it right! O wonderment! The girls went with Francie, which, while not as hip as my preferred Frankie or Frankly (hi [livejournal.com profile] melicitlu!) is entirely acceptable. The parts-wrangling dude went with Fran, which is... not as nails-on-chalkboard horrible as it was at first. It's less me, but also less grating than DeeDee**.
Downside: Still not sure what to match it with, and I am particularly loath to give up my last name, especially after waiting approximately forEVER to get the damn thing back, but Moira Moore has never scanned right in my head. [The coin flip is between Frances Roisin and Moira Frances, last name TBD but oh god I really don't want to take [livejournal.com profile] ursamajorra's name, nothing against him but I am not German in the least unless you count the tiny bit of Saschen my maternal grandmother brought to the party. IRISH NAMES ONLY DAMMIT.]

I need a friend and spotter without a bias against butchness and/or mohawks to opine on my hair, which has settled into natural sides with a mohawk that spontaneously changes color with my usual frequency (although it's currently black, a blessedly lazy option that I won't have to maintain for at least another month. Also, OMG FINALLY I got black to work on me where it comes out more Snow White than Mall Goth, I am so beyond delighted by this!) I'm rather fond, but as everyone who's had a chance to see it in person is also someone who thinks I ought to have long, curly brown and just be normal already, there's that tiny niggling doubt that I look like a doofus- well, beyond the intentional parts, that is.

I just had to email Bitchcakes, my old boss, regarding the disposition of my W-2. Even after all this time, the thought of having to remind her that I exist gave me an attack of nerves with the heart in the throat and the shaking hands and everything. Have I mentioned how beyond awesome my new job is, just by virtue of not being run by a fucking psycho? Oh, and now that I'm in quality control I am being paid to be anal retentive and break things all day long, which is even more fun than machining quarter-inch-long impellers. During my interview, Bossman said "the department is a little.... quirky," to which the other bossman replied "totally unlike the rest of us, right?" It's bad form to leap across the interview table, hug them, and say "I'm home!" but let me tell you, it was a struggle. I have now heard other people refer to our lab as the Island of Misfit Toys. Hee.


* These pets, minus the shih tzu we liberated, are all "hers," except, well, she's 5. The cat is terrified of her, the dog has arthritis and can't play, she's too rough to play with the birds, the fish don't even count as pets- honestly, they're furniture; what are you going to do, pet them?- and while the bunny shows signs of being incredibly mellow that can change when confronted with a boisterous, sticky child whose approach is along the lines of "and I will hug him and I will pet him and I will name him George..."
** In case you were unaware of this, calling me DeeDee within my reach will result in stabbing. Immediate, painful stabbing.
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aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
Kindly Aunt Hippie's Tips For Livin' Right

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