Saturday, March 16, 2019

goddamnsunuvvabitch

Well. I thought I had a lot less coffee in my mug. I'm talking last little sip. So I went to shoot it all back in one quick motion, and it turns out I had a lot more coffee left in my mug. And now it's all over my face and chest, and I almost choked on the coffee that made it down my gullet because I laughed so hard at myself while I was still trying to swallow all of the coffee.

Spring break is this week, so I'm using the weekend to get a few things accomplished. I have to spend the entire week studying for my CLEP test, because I fucking refuse to take an actual math class. I am so fucking math stupid, I would have to take a remedial math class first before I could even take my college level algebra class, and I still have to take my stats classes to get my degree finished up. The University of Hawaii has a different system in place for what you need to get your degree. I should have been done literally four fucking semesters ago, but after my mishaps with my bullshit adviser at UCCS I got pushed back (I'm still fucking pissed about that. I'm not sure that will go away), and then when I transferred here expecting to take a couple of courses to finish up what got fucked up in Colorado, I was less than delighted to find out that U of H has their own focus requirements that gave me another two semesters to get caught up. I am going to be doing this for fucking EVER. Ugh. But if I can pass my CLEP, next semester is my last semester and THEN I can finally get started with my Masters instead of just saying "I'm working toward it". I mean, I could still say that, but I'd be able to say "working ON" instead. Active, not passive.

I'm so academically exhausted. :/

I'm currently tossing shit from my camera roll in Lightroom so I don't have 20k photos in there. Over the last four months, I've whittled my way down to 11k. I'm expecting that, by the time I'm finally done, I'll have about 8k that I actually intend on keeping. Eventually I'll have to adopt Derek's system, and I know it, but today is not that day. I'm also regrouping the photos for the website (which also feels like a never-ending project. I can't just work on it because I have school and a life and the occasional photoshoot, and also the attention span of a dead mouse...even with adderall), so I'm selecting better photos for each of the categories we shoot. I'm going through a wedding right now, and the fucking bride has god damn gum in her fucking mouth. GUM. GUM IN HER GOD DAMN MOUTH. Girl wut. Now is not the fucking time for Chiclets. Something they never tell you about photography is how much time you'll spend editing weird things. Like the exact texture of nipples, or errant hairs off of pubic mounds, or gum out of someone's mouth. Because I've done more boudoir recently than anything else, it's really the former two that I spend the bulk of my time on. Have you ever had to adjust someone's ass cheeks in photoshop and then send the photo to everyone you  know getting an opinion on how realistic it looks? Or adjusting some razor burn on someone's vagina and seeing that the brush slipped a little but it's not really workable unless you spend hours and hours on it, then sending it to your husband and being like, "so, what are your first thoughts when you look at her vagina?" Among the questions I never thought I'd be asking, that's top five easy. But it's something I've asked about more than one vagina.

The new mouse traps I bought were quite successful! Well, insofar as they saved one VERY large house mouse. She, not a he, which I initally thought was fantastic, until I released her at wooded area a few miles away and asked myself if taking her away meant I was leaving her little mouse babies to die in my walls. I hope there aren't little mouse babies missing their mouse mom now. This shit really bums me out. I can't fucking win! I'm just glad I didn't have to see her screaming corpse on my bedroom floor, or hear her little mouse screams as my cat terrorized her to death. Look how cute she is!!!

                               
                               
And she really is a large mouse. The mice that Floopies has been getting are much smaller. That's kind of why I'm worried that this is a momma mouse, and I've just signed a death warrant on her pinkies or fuzzies. Welp. There's only so much I can do. As I was driving her to the park, a truck labeled Pest Control was driving into my neighborhood, and I am willing to bet that people are getting their houses de-moused right now. I don't understand why people just want to kill the little mice. They're so fucking cute. They  just want to live their little mouse lives, and if anybody is encroaching on someone else's territory, it's us. Plus, as my husband and everybody else points out, they live right where they're meant to. In the house. They are house mice.

It's about to be primary mouse breeding season, though. I don't quite know what to do. I don't see them very often anymore, even though I know they're around. I know they're a hazard to the house, I know they can be a health hazard, too (even though I'm really good about cleaning the counters every night and every morning, and every time I finish cooking, specifically because I'm so paranoid about their little mouse leavings. I almost NEVER see droppings, though. Only when Derek and I moved the stove to seal up the first hole. I don't see traces of them, I just see THEM). I kind of wish my property management company would call and be like, TOO BAD SO SAD YOU FUCKING HIPPIE VEGAN, WE ARE SENDING IN AN EXTERMINATOR WE DO IT EVERY YEAR. That would force my hand and I would be guilt free.

Fucking mice.

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