...to Shinola. I know what you were thinking. Evil, nasty child. Shame on you. Shame, shame, shame!
Though I haven't seen them yet, she has picked the bass player, Hunter to be my new fantasy boyfriend/future husband. I think on the basis of the tough-looking tattoo across his chest. We'll see what it says, then decide. She didn't say so, but I think she thinks he's the only one who's not too soft for me. God knows what that girl thinks I do with boys, but she always seems to pick me sort of dirty, tough, derrick-worker types who look like ex-cons. Or maybe she just has a hard time getting a lock on my type (mostly dirty, tough, derrick-worker types who look like ex-cons. A few pensive, greasy skinny guys, and for some reason I appear to get it up for receding hairlines. Who knew?). Or it could be that she's serious and picked the one I could actually get (no offense to Hunter, but really, I'm no catch, and he looks easy). But really, I look at boys like dogs chase cars. I get all heated up about picking one out and pursuing it, but dammned if I know what I'd do with one if I caught it. I mean, I know what to do. Mmmmm, I know what to do allright. It's just what you're supposed to do with them when you're not doing that.
She's taking the lead singer, TJ, of course, but I'm not sure I don't want his brother Kyle. Of course, there's still Travis, and Steve, who is falling out of favor since I "met" him on a friends server that shall remain nameless (at least in this post). He is perfectly nice and funny, and still just as cute, it's just the, "oh, a real person with his own personality and needs, as opposed to whatever thoughts I put in his head" turn off.
Of course, Jess knows Shinola, and wants me to come see them and meet them, so I'll only enjoy them a short time, for the same reason. And I'm sure that before long I'll meet Travis at Nick & Vick's or somewhere, so that one is looking pale, too. I guess I'm going back to my old fantasy boyfriend, TV's Danny Masterson. Oh, well, we only broke up because he was hurt by my constantly seeing other people. So if you know him, don't tell him about Hunter, and tell him to keep the hell away from Austin so I don't have to start fantasy dating again.
Anyhow, I was listening to Shinola online mere seconds after she said the name, and you should be too, if you like rockabilly at all, cause these boys do it right and look good while doin' it.
Monday, April 05, 2004
Okay, you got me
Thundercats was really my favorite cartoon. I liked Transformers, I liked Moncheechees, but c'mon, "Thunder...Thunder...THUNDERCATS!!! HOOOOOO!"
You bet your ass. Cheetarah rules.
Anyhoo, exciting day today. My dad went out on a cable service call a little after 2 this afternoon, and around 3:30 his boss drove up in our driveway, which is not that odd since they've worked together 23 years and went to school together before that. But my dad's been having these weird little "episodes" the last week and feeling puny, and my mom and I (who almost never agree about anything) were both having creepy feelings about it and trying to get him to to the dr. before the weekend. But he hates to make a fuss, so he just decided to see how he felt on Monday and make an appointment then. So his boss pulls up in the driveway, and as soon as I saw his truck, before I could even see his face, I said, "Mom, I'm gonna go change, we have to go to the hospital." So mom is totally confused, thinking I need the hospital, when Dick (his real name) knocks on the door. It took a while to sort her out. I just knew. I knew he was going to be fine, but I knew he was in the ER. So Dick tells us that dad was working in Edna, a tiny town about 20 miles away, when he started to feel faint again like he did twice already this week, and about the time he started to loose consiousness, another co-worker who lives in Edna drove up to see if dad needed any help with the job. So Ken (the co-worker) sees my dad sitting in the shade of his truck, trying to get a drink of water and bright red and sweating buckets and unable to breathe, and talks him into the truck and calls Dick to tell him they're going to the hospital.
It was scary (he was admitted with a heart rate of 228 beats a minute, and they had to give him medication to make it slow down, which slowed it too far, so they had to give him medication to speed it up), and he feels like shit, but they're keeping him overnight to watch him and are going to do the dreaded cardiac catheterization, where they put a camera up your groin to look inside your heart. Which means we get a nifty 3"x5" picture of my dad's heart beating from the inside, and also that if these episodes are caused by something horrible like a blockage or anuyrism or clot, they can fix it, and if not we'll know he's just wired wrong and he'll take medication every day to guard against it happening again. As long as my mom doesn't kill a doctor first. She just hates all medical personnel. My mom is a fairly decent person, but she turns into an ass anytime there's a doctor or nurse around. Which is why I'm home right now, as I was afraid if I stayed overnight with them we would, one way or another, have two of our family in hospital beds.
You bet your ass. Cheetarah rules.
Anyhoo, exciting day today. My dad went out on a cable service call a little after 2 this afternoon, and around 3:30 his boss drove up in our driveway, which is not that odd since they've worked together 23 years and went to school together before that. But my dad's been having these weird little "episodes" the last week and feeling puny, and my mom and I (who almost never agree about anything) were both having creepy feelings about it and trying to get him to to the dr. before the weekend. But he hates to make a fuss, so he just decided to see how he felt on Monday and make an appointment then. So his boss pulls up in the driveway, and as soon as I saw his truck, before I could even see his face, I said, "Mom, I'm gonna go change, we have to go to the hospital." So mom is totally confused, thinking I need the hospital, when Dick (his real name) knocks on the door. It took a while to sort her out. I just knew. I knew he was going to be fine, but I knew he was in the ER. So Dick tells us that dad was working in Edna, a tiny town about 20 miles away, when he started to feel faint again like he did twice already this week, and about the time he started to loose consiousness, another co-worker who lives in Edna drove up to see if dad needed any help with the job. So Ken (the co-worker) sees my dad sitting in the shade of his truck, trying to get a drink of water and bright red and sweating buckets and unable to breathe, and talks him into the truck and calls Dick to tell him they're going to the hospital.
It was scary (he was admitted with a heart rate of 228 beats a minute, and they had to give him medication to make it slow down, which slowed it too far, so they had to give him medication to speed it up), and he feels like shit, but they're keeping him overnight to watch him and are going to do the dreaded cardiac catheterization, where they put a camera up your groin to look inside your heart. Which means we get a nifty 3"x5" picture of my dad's heart beating from the inside, and also that if these episodes are caused by something horrible like a blockage or anuyrism or clot, they can fix it, and if not we'll know he's just wired wrong and he'll take medication every day to guard against it happening again. As long as my mom doesn't kill a doctor first. She just hates all medical personnel. My mom is a fairly decent person, but she turns into an ass anytime there's a doctor or nurse around. Which is why I'm home right now, as I was afraid if I stayed overnight with them we would, one way or another, have two of our family in hospital beds.
Friday, April 02, 2004
I object!
I feel I was wrongly denied my rightful place as a fraudulent, malicious panderer on the 8th level of hell! I demand a recount!
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Level | Score |
---|---|
Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
Level 2 (Lustful) | Very High |
Level 3 (Gluttonous) | Very High |
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Moderate |
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Extreme |
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Extreme |
Level 7 (Violent) | Extreme |
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Extreme |
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Very High |
Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Yayyyyyy!
My digital camera came yesterday! I almost kissed the ups guy. How often in your life do you get a box that contains (1) one digital camera and (1) one portable bubble machine? Almost never, that's how often. All I have to do now is find $40 for having the usb port put in my 'puter so I can actually upload the thousands (15) pictures I've taken today and the $100 or so so I can host them on this blog, and I'll be the most annoying person on the internet! Yayyyyyyy! So any millionaires out there (or thousandaires, I'm not a snob) go ahead and e-mail me about where you should send the money...I'm waiting...
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
icky...
we had a little snafu here Sunday--the computer got totally ass-invaded by some adware/spyware shit that shut us down until today. We may have gotten it all out; the little fucker keeps re-building itself, and our $79 "upgrade" of McAfee Security Center "doesn't recognize this file" all damn day, but it seems to be under control now. In other news, the weather has been in the 70's for weeks now, and today it's in the 50's and the boy cat has gone totally berserk. Both cats have been working into the summer reality of basking in the sun and lazily staring at things, now he's seized the cool weather and is doing that whole autumn "killing frenzy of death" thing where anything that exists on this plane (and some that don't) is being systematically treated to a full-service slaying. He's about a year and a half old now. The girl (11 last week) is lying cynically in a window, yawning in the meanest possible way.
a child learns what she lives
A little background for this story; I've had a lot of 'platonic' male roomates. I relate to guys really well. I lived in a big party house with four guys and a couple of their assorted friends for over a year. I learned how to blow a grass harp, light a lighter in my pocket without setting myself on fire, juggle, spit, crack my neck, belch and fart unapologetically in mixed company, and watch porn in a group while drinking beer as nonchantly as if it were old episodes of Sesame Street, along with other specialized 'guy tricks.' But my guy friends gradually moved away or got engaged or went to jail or started dating strippers, and we grew apart. For about 3 years I've had predominantly female friends and I thought I was re-socialized.
So, a friend of mine called me a while back and said, "You dissapeared this weekend, what did you do?" and I told her I'd just chilled on the couch all weekend watching movies my mom had sent me. So she asks, "What kind of movies?" and I say, "Chick flicks, mostly. You know. Resevoir Dogs, Grosse Pointe Blank, Fight Club, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels...like that." And she goes, "I don't know what's weirder; that your mom sent you a box with those movies in it, or that you think those are 'chick flicks.'"
So, a friend of mine called me a while back and said, "You dissapeared this weekend, what did you do?" and I told her I'd just chilled on the couch all weekend watching movies my mom had sent me. So she asks, "What kind of movies?" and I say, "Chick flicks, mostly. You know. Resevoir Dogs, Grosse Pointe Blank, Fight Club, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels...like that." And she goes, "I don't know what's weirder; that your mom sent you a box with those movies in it, or that you think those are 'chick flicks.'"
Friday, March 26, 2004
Happy Birthday to Meeeeeeeeeeee!
So, here is a list of what I got for my birthday, in no particular order:
- Lots of companionship and everyone bought beers for me.
- Extra hugs and lots of compliments and good wishes.
- Jessica got me a cool vintage shirt and hosted me around town incessantly.
- Kathey took me out for steak and gave me a really cute card and let me flirt with her boyfriend.
- Mary bought me the kind of sunglasses there is absolutely no excuse for and hottie shoes.
- Mom and Dad gave me a DVD player and chocolate macaroons.
- Andrea listened to me burble incessantly and drunkenly when she really just wanted to go get laid.
- Rosemary got me a turtle cheesecake and some cupcakes.
- My cat Odista gave me a horribly mauled but still squirming bloody mouse on my pillow.
- Emily gave me metastasized colon cancer.
- My brother helped me buy a digital camera and a portable bubble machine.
- Rob laughed at my jokes and acted like I was neat.
- Kellie and Tex hosted a great dinner and let me play with their dogs and bring anyone I wanted.
- And everyone was so nice to me and showed me so much love and tolerance and I know I'm forgetting a lot, but I really enjoyed my week in Austin, and my birthday went wonderfully, thank you so much, everyone.
Friday Five Answers
There's a fun little blog called Friday Five that posits five questions every Friday for people to answer either on the site comments or in their own blogs...so here's my go at the March 5th questions, since that's the latest ones they have posted...oh, yeah, and that's probably because they won a 2004 Bloggie and have been busy!
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Miss Benson? Miss Barton? I can't remember. How weird is that? The last teacher whose name I can remember is...my High School Senior English teacher, Mrs. Eddings. I think that was her name...
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Transformers. They really are more than meets the eye!
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Lisa. She was my friend in Carlsbad, NM when I was 3-5 years old. We used to make mudpies a lot and once had an argument about whether you had to pretend to wash the dishes after pretending to have tea. (She said no, I said yes, almost knocked the playhouse over in the ensuing scuffle. I won.) Later I had another "friend" named Lisa, but the less said about that manipulative user the better.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Cream of Wheat with butter, milk and brown sugar.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
Buy a pickle and a coke and walk to my mom's store.
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Miss Benson? Miss Barton? I can't remember. How weird is that? The last teacher whose name I can remember is...my High School Senior English teacher, Mrs. Eddings. I think that was her name...
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Transformers. They really are more than meets the eye!
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Lisa. She was my friend in Carlsbad, NM when I was 3-5 years old. We used to make mudpies a lot and once had an argument about whether you had to pretend to wash the dishes after pretending to have tea. (She said no, I said yes, almost knocked the playhouse over in the ensuing scuffle. I won.) Later I had another "friend" named Lisa, but the less said about that manipulative user the better.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Cream of Wheat with butter, milk and brown sugar.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
Buy a pickle and a coke and walk to my mom's store.
Thursday, March 25, 2004
Slowly Recovering....
from a week of debauchery in Austin. Drank too much, smoked too much, did too much, slept too little, you know the drill. So now I'm drained, I'm broke, I'm away from my friends and there's nothing left. Same old, same old. Meanwhile, everyone's doing okay-ish, here's a list of things about Austin:
- Got to see Ozzmodiar twice. Sweet. They rock. There couldn't be five nicer people, nor five who make a more seamless and cosmic sound when together. And they're also all hot. Whoo. And Andrea was there at the party show and Mary was there at the Cafe Mundi show, after which Jess and I got to hang out with long-time-no-see Matt from Quacks and his friend John. Good times.
- I had a great time eating steak and lobster with an incredible salad and plenty of beers and banter at Tex and Kellie's house, along with Jessica, Kathey and Rob.
- Got to see Alisa and Joel and Andrea at the Echoset show.
- Got to see Andrea and Emily briefly at work.
- Spent a whole day with Mary.
- Mom spent forever telling me each time I checked in how very much she loved and missed me and wanted to see me, etc...and it took her almost an hour after I got in to start acting like an asshole. Don't tell me my own mom isn't an asshole, I know when she's being an asshole because she acts just like I do when I'm being an asshole. Where do you think I got it?
- Spent plenty of time with Kathey and Rob, and Jess, which always makes me happy. Go in Amazonia and look at Rob. Mmmmmmmmm.
- It always does my heart good to see my town and spend time bringing down all my friends with my woes and troubles.
- I got to sleep outside once, and I meant to and everything!
- I didn't even do anything I regret (that much).
Friday, March 19, 2004
p.s. my haircut went great
and I'm feeling much more positive about my birthday. Good buddies will do that to you. Plus, a super nice haircut. I have bangs! For the first time in my life. I walked in, a hungover mess, bumbled around the mall until my haircut was ready to go, then submitted to the best possible hair-wash/head massage of my life. And I'm including outright sexual acts, here. Suddenly, no more hangover, just an incredibly cute guy rubbing my head and discussing my cowlicks with his instructor. Who then rubbed my head. And then I got bangs! YEAH!
Fucking SXSW fucking RAWKS!
I just saw Echoset for the first time at Flamingo Cantina. Words fail me. No, wait, words never fail me. If you want to see a solid, fucking SOLID rock quartet with screaming guitars, pumping bass, and a totally tight band that really, really means it (with authentic Rock-God faces and leaping and squrming all around for the entire show), please go see them. I mean it. These kids love the rock and roll, and they want to share their dirty, naughty love with you. Oh, and all four of them are super stone-fucking-foxes. Something for everyone. You need Echoset in your life. That is all.
Saturday, March 13, 2004
Happy thoughts, happy, happy...
So, I thought long and hard about it and decided not to delete any posts outright, even though they may have been inspired by momentary mood swings, since even though I don't feel that way now, I will again, probably. So, even though I don't really stand behind my last few posts right now, and I'm sure if anyone reads them I'll be embarassed, I'm leaving them up because if I'm going to sanitise this experience I may as well delete the whole thing. So that's that.
Now, I'm going to Austin Tuesday to get a free fabulous haircut from Richie at Toni&Guy, which I am soo excited about. I don't really need a haircut, since he just did my hair two weeks ago, but I like the idea of a free one. Hopefully my friends will be glad to see me, and will buy me a beer or two, and I won't get too drunk, and the whole experience will leave me happy and at peace. Although I know from experience I usually cry for about two days when I get back from an Austin visit, and the horrifying 27th birthday is likely to make it worse. No matter, I'm going to have a great time. Plus, it's SXSW and that's always a lot of crazy fun. So, I'll be gone from posting for about a week, and hopefully at the end I'll be back and putting up mad fun stories and not in prison, or sold to a white slaver. In the meantime, I'll be adding to the links part of the blog to keep all my (0) readers occupied in case I'm gone a long time.
Now, I'm going to Austin Tuesday to get a free fabulous haircut from Richie at Toni&Guy, which I am soo excited about. I don't really need a haircut, since he just did my hair two weeks ago, but I like the idea of a free one. Hopefully my friends will be glad to see me, and will buy me a beer or two, and I won't get too drunk, and the whole experience will leave me happy and at peace. Although I know from experience I usually cry for about two days when I get back from an Austin visit, and the horrifying 27th birthday is likely to make it worse. No matter, I'm going to have a great time. Plus, it's SXSW and that's always a lot of crazy fun. So, I'll be gone from posting for about a week, and hopefully at the end I'll be back and putting up mad fun stories and not in prison, or sold to a white slaver. In the meantime, I'll be adding to the links part of the blog to keep all my (0) readers occupied in case I'm gone a long time.
Friday, March 12, 2004
What a pansy whiner.
I'm such an punk faggot emo puler sometimes. Jeez. How that all came about was I got up early today for a little daytrip that didn't happen with my mom's friend Rosemary, and when I get up early, one of three things happens:
Today was the cheerful option, and my mom and I were having a nice conversation while she got ready to go to work at the library. We were talking about nothing much, I showed her some funny stuff online, we were talking about what to do later in the day. Then she thought she heard one of the cats yowling to get out of somewhere, and started looking for it. I didn't hear anything, and she found both of the cats placidly sleeping, so no biggie. But she kept looking for what it was. "What could it be?" she asked me a few times. I had already told her I hadn't heard it, so about the 4th time she asked me I said, "I CAN'T HEAR IT," as though she were slow, and she said, (exact quote) "God, go back to bed. You wake up as such a bitch all the time. Why do you have to be so bitchy?" Which is, you should know, something she says to me on a weekly basis if not more often. Usually, there is some basis for it, as I am normally pretty grouchy lately. But I do not say things like this to her (about her, yeah, to her, no) and it always strikes me as such emotional terrorism that I cry, which I hate to do. It's just so unfair of her, such out-and-out nuclear warfare. Am I crazy? I know this whole situation isn't easy for her either, and I don't come out and say in so many words, "Hey, I'm fighting suicidal depression here, cut me some slack," and she can't read my mind, but sheesh. So that's what happened this morning. Lucklily, my friend Jess, when I was crying about this at her house two weeks ago, threatened to kill her next time she did it, so that's all sorted out then.
- I go back to bed (35% probable).
- I'm grumpy and pointedly nasty all day (43% probable).
- I'm impossibly and annoyingly cheerful and disjointed all day (22% probable).
Today was the cheerful option, and my mom and I were having a nice conversation while she got ready to go to work at the library. We were talking about nothing much, I showed her some funny stuff online, we were talking about what to do later in the day. Then she thought she heard one of the cats yowling to get out of somewhere, and started looking for it. I didn't hear anything, and she found both of the cats placidly sleeping, so no biggie. But she kept looking for what it was. "What could it be?" she asked me a few times. I had already told her I hadn't heard it, so about the 4th time she asked me I said, "I CAN'T HEAR IT," as though she were slow, and she said, (exact quote) "God, go back to bed. You wake up as such a bitch all the time. Why do you have to be so bitchy?" Which is, you should know, something she says to me on a weekly basis if not more often. Usually, there is some basis for it, as I am normally pretty grouchy lately. But I do not say things like this to her (about her, yeah, to her, no) and it always strikes me as such emotional terrorism that I cry, which I hate to do. It's just so unfair of her, such out-and-out nuclear warfare. Am I crazy? I know this whole situation isn't easy for her either, and I don't come out and say in so many words, "Hey, I'm fighting suicidal depression here, cut me some slack," and she can't read my mind, but sheesh. So that's what happened this morning. Lucklily, my friend Jess, when I was crying about this at her house two weeks ago, threatened to kill her next time she did it, so that's all sorted out then.
My birthday is coming!
I'm getting excited about it, although I don't know why. I always encourage people not to get me anything, maybe buy me a beer if they feel the urge to gift me. It's not that I'm altruistic, it's just that deep in my heart I know no one is going to get me anything, so I'd rather it be because I earnestly asked them not to than because they don't care. Except for family members, who will get me several things I don't know what are and would never use. This all started a few years ago when, in the months leading up to my birthday, I told everyone, approximately 798 times, that I really wished I could afford a manicure. Just a little old manicure, not like big fake nails, just the $8-$12 dollar version at a little nail shop, maybe. I said it until I myself was sick of hearing it. Just to let everyone know, here's a cheap little present you could get me, just less than $10 bucks, stick the gift certificate in a card and draw a heart on it. No big deal. So you know what I got. Mostly just empty cards, but also a delightful selection of cheap crap I didn't want and couldn't use. Of course, if you're reading this, I obviously knew you would and don't mean you. You know who you are. All I need from you is your inexpressibly precious love and friendship, and yet you always give me the perfect thing. The right word at the right moment, something you knew I needed, a silly something to brighten my day. Or cash. And, probably you've heard this all before, last year. God, I hate my birthday. And the best part is, I'm turning 27 and I'm an unemployed penniless alcoholic who lives with her parents. Yay. My cat is more useful than I am. Happy birthday. Jeez, and to think the whole point of this post was just a cheerful little note that if anyone did want to get me anything this year (penniless friends and family are hereby disqualified from the giftgiving: see above about precious love and friendship), I'm trying to get up the $50 to $100 to post morose pictures here to go with my dismal entries, so if everyone who (still) loves me (after reading this) gives me $2 I'll have enough (to take a city bus).
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Bored, busted, belligerent...
I've done almost nothing of any consequense for the last two days. Really, here's the list of what I've done:
So you can see how well my stated goal of getting some goals and achieving them is going. Whoooo-eee. You don't get success like this by going out and doing things, kids, this is regular old, blood, sweat and tears, hardcore, old school slacking. They don't teach this stuff in school anymore. Woo.
- Read 6 books.
- Put my bathing suit on three times, but never made it out of the house to bathe or sun-bathe.
- Drove mom to therapy and was snippy with her.
- Made dinner once (rather well).
- Listened to Songs for Dustmites 7 times.
- Started my monthlies whilst hungover and was generally snippy and groan-y.
- Planned a slacker trip to Austin for next week.
- Got invited to a two-year-old's birthday party.
- Watched mom fertilise the yard.
- Knitted exactly 12 rows of a slipper.
- Played with the cats and fed them catnip until fur flew.
- Slept approximately 18 hours.
- Spent almost an hour, total, thinking about getting a job.
- Spent almost 12 hours, total, thinking about getting drunk.
So you can see how well my stated goal of getting some goals and achieving them is going. Whoooo-eee. You don't get success like this by going out and doing things, kids, this is regular old, blood, sweat and tears, hardcore, old school slacking. They don't teach this stuff in school anymore. Woo.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
New frustrating pastime
Since I'm tired of learning both html and ASL because I've gotten to the hard parts, it must be time to become obsessed with an internet game! The latest is Bauns from Orisinal over there in the links. Sooooooooo time eating. You must try it....
In other news, took a nice bike ride today, despite the weak cries of my puny, atrophied muscles. I'm trying very hard to get enough physical activity (no, sleep does not count!) into each day that I don't end up unable to lift a book, y'know? So yesterday I took a long bike ride, then rode the stationary bike for an episode of Mad About You, then did some assorted floor flailing until my whole body got together to write a memo. It said, "Stop that right now and drink a beer. Or we'll kill you. We can do it, you know it: do what we say." Of course, I foolishly continued to grunt and roll pitiably around until my body's enforcers helped me understand what a nice calf I have, and how sorry they would be to see anything happen to it. After I finished rubbing my leg and squealing, I went to the fridge and did what they said.
What was I saying, oh, yeah, so that's why I'm feeling, today, the light and pleasurable burn that results when you excersize a little bitty bit after electively spending six months almost exclusively in bed, allowing every muscle fiber in your body to waste away to nothing while indulging a nascent alcoholism and reading trashy novels.
In other news, took a nice bike ride today, despite the weak cries of my puny, atrophied muscles. I'm trying very hard to get enough physical activity (no, sleep does not count!) into each day that I don't end up unable to lift a book, y'know? So yesterday I took a long bike ride, then rode the stationary bike for an episode of Mad About You, then did some assorted floor flailing until my whole body got together to write a memo. It said, "Stop that right now and drink a beer. Or we'll kill you. We can do it, you know it: do what we say." Of course, I foolishly continued to grunt and roll pitiably around until my body's enforcers helped me understand what a nice calf I have, and how sorry they would be to see anything happen to it. After I finished rubbing my leg and squealing, I went to the fridge and did what they said.
What was I saying, oh, yeah, so that's why I'm feeling, today, the light and pleasurable burn that results when you excersize a little bitty bit after electively spending six months almost exclusively in bed, allowing every muscle fiber in your body to waste away to nothing while indulging a nascent alcoholism and reading trashy novels.
Monday, March 08, 2004
Update!
I missed a few days along in there, then when I went to post about them I got sidetracked on my paean to the hope of summer. So, this weekend just past I spent a whole wonderful day at a nearby lake. Rode my bike several lesiurely miles, ate horrible hot dogs hand-charred over a fire I started (my favorite--arson, that is), the constant drone and thump of a Boy Scout Jamboree going on across the lake...by dark there was a haze of campfire smoke literally covering the park from the ground to the top of the trees...all I could think about was the movie One Crazy Summer, and I knew I absolutely mustn't do anything requiring first aid...
So, I had a great time, got to watch a white and a blue egret fishing, drank a lot of beer outdoors in the sun on a beautiful day, and basically wish you could have been there, especially if you're under a few feet of snow.
So, I had a great time, got to watch a white and a blue egret fishing, drank a lot of beer outdoors in the sun on a beautiful day, and basically wish you could have been there, especially if you're under a few feet of snow.
Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of...early pre-spring
So, I'm so impatient for summer that I have been wearing nothing but sandals, shorts and sarong tops for two weeks, and this is Texas, but it's still early March and I'm freezing most of the time. I'm just soooooooooo tired of wearing winter clothes, and yes, I know how spoiled I am, and I know a lot of the nation is still under feet of snow and the sun is out for the last three days and I'm sitting here in beach clothes "freezing to death" in 59 degree weather in the sun. I know that.
Two things: there's a reason I live in Texas, and the privelige of wearing a sweater in May is not it. Also, I currently live in mid-coastal Texas, near Houston, where the mean annual daily humidity is something like 798% or near. Lemme 'splain that fur y'all. Y'all know "dry heat" is good and "wet heat" is bad, so you should be able to intuit that "dry cold" is intolerable and "wet cold" is the lowest circle of hell. Oh, yeah, and it rains almost every day in the winter. We get these nice, sunny, cool days around here and everybody goes around in sweaters and sandals, reminding each other, "This is nice. This is about perfect. I wish it could stay like this. You know (everyone joins in in a sing-song chorus) August is coming, in August we're gonna be wishing for days like this!" Every time I hear it I grit my teeth and renew my vow to become a pirate and terrorise the equatorial seas. I hate cold, and I can't wait for August. I pray every year for a repeat of the Austin summer when it was over 104 degrees every single day for over 35 days. I am so completely stealing a boat and turning to a life of piracy.
Two things: there's a reason I live in Texas, and the privelige of wearing a sweater in May is not it. Also, I currently live in mid-coastal Texas, near Houston, where the mean annual daily humidity is something like 798% or near. Lemme 'splain that fur y'all. Y'all know "dry heat" is good and "wet heat" is bad, so you should be able to intuit that "dry cold" is intolerable and "wet cold" is the lowest circle of hell. Oh, yeah, and it rains almost every day in the winter. We get these nice, sunny, cool days around here and everybody goes around in sweaters and sandals, reminding each other, "This is nice. This is about perfect. I wish it could stay like this. You know (everyone joins in in a sing-song chorus) August is coming, in August we're gonna be wishing for days like this!" Every time I hear it I grit my teeth and renew my vow to become a pirate and terrorise the equatorial seas. I hate cold, and I can't wait for August. I pray every year for a repeat of the Austin summer when it was over 104 degrees every single day for over 35 days. I am so completely stealing a boat and turning to a life of piracy.
Friday, March 05, 2004
More Progress
I'm now about 1/3 of the way up the thumb gusset increase for the mitt and after several false starts where I had to frog out a few rounds, I think I've gotten the reverse correct. I'm knitting way above my technical ability on this one, which is usually fine if I go exactly by the pattern, but this is a 5 page pattern for the left mitten, then at the end it says, "reverse pattern for right mitten." Which is harder than you think. I've been looking at the completed left mitten in the mirror, and that seems to help figure out how my dislexic self is supposed to spontaneously generate an exact opposite mitten.
On another note, I always try to check any link in my posts or sidebar, and I noticed this morning that the link for the mitt in my previous post doesn't work, and when I tried to troubleshoot, I found that not only is the code (as far as I can tell) okay, when you click on the link it doesn't even go to the right place, so I'm doing something really wrong. Hopefully the link in this one works, or it's in the archive on Knitty, link in sidebar (I checked and that one does work).
On another note, I always try to check any link in my posts or sidebar, and I noticed this morning that the link for the mitt in my previous post doesn't work, and when I tried to troubleshoot, I found that not only is the code (as far as I can tell) okay, when you click on the link it doesn't even go to the right place, so I'm doing something really wrong. Hopefully the link in this one works, or it's in the archive on Knitty, link in sidebar (I checked and that one does work).
Thursday, March 04, 2004
10 things about me
- I love my bike an unreasonable amount.
- My favorite friend in the world is named Kathey, and we get along exactly twice as well as we shouldn't.
- I want to be a pirate when I grow up. Not like a downloading music pirate, like a pillaging and burning argggh argggh pirate.
- I absolutely love to read.
- I'm currently obsessed with Steve Burns in a harmless and non-threatening way.
- I really like oranges
- I have no idea why my friends love me, and that makes me love them more
- I always think I'm exactly as gorgeous as I always have, but how much I think I deserve to think it changes from day to day.
- I like to draw, and sometimes I'm good at it.
- My car needs a brake job.
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