Is that the fricken coolest gourd ever or what??? I had to get it even if it will only end up being a decoration (you can eat them, right?). There were so many weird ones at the store, but this one hooked over my arm juuuust right while I finished shopping. People kept double-taking and giggling. I don't blame 'em. This wasn't even the most hilarious one, and I wanted to get more, but that would be frivolous, and besides, I was starting to feel kind of silly walking around with this thing, and if I had THREE I might have started blushing with all the staring going on. I blush easily, and it is RED. Anyway, I'm glad I got it. It's sitting propped up on the counter and every time I look at it I just get a kick out of how weird and pretty it is.
Oh man, and speaking of people thinking I'm silly... yesterday around dusk I was out picking up acorns for the kitties. I was watching the ground, not where I was going, and had wandered up the neighbors driveway without realizing he was standing there watching me (it was the cool dad at least). "Uh... what are you doing?" I suddenly heard. "HAHA! Oh, heh heh, collecting acorns, 'cause my cats like to play with them...." "OHHHH, I thought someone threw a bunch of money on the ground or something!" We both laughed, and he helped me collect some while we chatted a bit. Some times I get a WEE bit caught up in my own little world, but it was really funny. Money, heehee, funny stuff!
Okay, so here's the miracle. Not these flowers, although, come to think of it, they are kinda miraculous. Anyway, my miracle wasn't winning the lottery, in fact, I think it's better than that. I've been deep down in a blue funk for, oh, a couple years now. Land for sale I'd been watching was going from 20 grand to fifty grand, while my savings were going the other direction. Not that they were ever that high. My log cabin or yurt shrank to a two man tent. Although, I hear from a reliable source (Teryn! ;)) that yurts are darn loud in the rain. Make it a lean-to? But where would I PUT this lean-to? Dad's yard is beautifully landscaped, I wouldn't mind waking up to that everyday. What's that Dad? The zoning's all wrong? Haha, suuure. Kidding aside, I bet my dad would let me move in, and I bet my Granny would, too. But what I really needed was an escape with a future. And I didn't want to be a burden, financially, I mean. Like my faaabulous personality could ever be a burden! Psshht!
I mentioned when I got back from my vacation that I'd had all these mind blowing epiphanies, and boy have they been stewing at a low boil ever since. But none of these thoughts or the miracle would have been possible without my Mom and Potterman. An open mindset, and willingness for change, internal and external, are helpful in making this work, but it's those two who really offered me a miracle with open arms and hearts. We went out for a walk together, my first full day there, and this was the view. "This is where we'd put the trailer, and this is where your driveway would be." "This would be your view!" "Come look over here, this huge open part is where your garden would go!" "This tree's dead, we'll have to take it out.." At this point I couldn't say a word, because my throat squeezed all tight, and you know how I good I am at crying when someone is there to see- can't... do.. it...! I hope they didn't take my silence and looking away for disinterest, but it took a heck of a lot of control to not start bawling. I wanted to say thank you, so, so, so much, but to utter a word would be to open the floodgates. There was more: "The plumbing would be no problem with where our septic system already is- you'd have your very own fully functional place." "You'll get your own little propane tank, and that way you'll still be financially responsible for yourself..." "Rent? NO! We love you, and besides, theres plenty of room, heck, we can ignore each other if we need our space. We won't even be able to see each other's places. It wouldn't cost us a penny more, just pitch in on electric, and internet and stuff." OMG, there's even high speed internet??? "Plus you're more than welcome to do yardwork, and I really could use your help with my tiles, and I could pay you." Are you sure? Are you really, really sure? You won't get sick of me? Okay, that last was a silly thing to ask, c'mon, I rule! But still, over the course of the trip, I had to ask them both, seperately and together, were they sure? Really? And I had to ask myself, too. Am I ready to just quit a job that, on the surface, seems like the key to a stable future? Am I ready to be just flyin' in the wind like that? Am I ready to try a different kind of independence, one where I allow myself to accept help from others without feeling like I failed somehow for not being able to do it all myself? Am I ready to move away from the area I have lived in since I was three, the place I grew up, the landscapes I love? And most importantly, away from people I love? That last one makes me get watery-eyed all over again. Of course, I'll also be moving TO people I love. I have had a lot of time to consider, in fact, they let me know this opportunity was available a year ago, so it's been a subconcious idea for awhile. When I went, and saw, and heard... I realized how right it felt. I felt happy and alive and excited, and I still do. I feel hope. I know there will be second thoughts, and doubts, and worries, but I know it's the right decision, because the happiness and excitement and hope are ogres against tiny ants of fear. Fear of making such a gigantic change to my life. Ever since I made this choice, though, I've had countless moments of hope and relief and joy and wowness. I'm moving to Arizona!
"Ting ting ting!" (fork thwacking champagne glass) I would like to make an announcement. Ok, well, I already told s11ome p1eople- how rude, my 1 key is sticking. Digression!! 'Ol haystack, aka Lilly the vicious killer, spilled water on my keyboard, and now the shift, control, and option keys don't work. In fact, let's just say that every typo is the keyboards fault. I have my old keyboard... which I spilled beer on and the 1, c, and b keys stick. Does that make me mama haystack? I just started calling her that, even though it's always been a trait of hers- tipping the avalanche that is the potential state of any horizontal surface in my house. The straw that, you know, with the poor camel and all. Okay, it's a roundabout way to her nickname. I bet she likes it better than Miss Fluffybutt, though. I'll take a picture sometime HAHAHA.
Ok, so, I have a 40+ hour a week job, with benefits, vacation days, sick days, and a retirement plan. I held up my end of the bargain, for 7 years now. The bargain being, work hard at a good job, get a home, start a family, and wave your American flag while eating apple pie and watching baseball. Yeah, obviously, someone pulled the wool over my eyes there. Not only do I feel betrayed, I also feel like an idiot for having believed it. I remember when I was an angst driven, spiked collar, THREE wallet chain, steel-toe boot stompin', black-only wearing teenager, and I was majorly pissed off because kids are raised on happily ever after, when life is obviously not so much. Somehow, though, I didn't equate the falsehood of fairy tales with the equally misleading and oversimplified american dream. Dumbass!
I feel guilty for feeling miserable. I know I'm lucky to have food, shelter, etc. But, feeling ashamed for being depressed doesn't help. Neither does imagining starving kids in Ethiopia or slaughtered families in Sudan. Actually, if that stuff DID cheer you up, I'd run away from you. I read those stories and I tell myself that I'm luckier by far than people like that, and how dare I complain or be unhappy? And if this job and this place are so awful why don't I just quit?!?!
Well, that WAS the plan. Save up for a tiny chunk of land, and go live in a tent eating bugs and leaves if only to get away. (Please, please not bugs.) Except that it costs SO much to live here that savings are as realistic as pink elephants. I've only seen purple elephants, so.... not being able to afford even the tent and bug escape plan, I was feling pretty hopeless. I was certain that the only a miracle could save me from a life lived out in one room apartments and being unhappy, and beating nyself up for being unhappy! And holy crap, a miracle happened. (Holy crap and miracle in one sentence, is that, umm, blasphemous?)
I have to go eat dinner now, lucky American that I am, so I will have to bleed your eyes with boredom for the rest of the story tomorrow. There will be much happiness, and pretty pictures! It turns out Blogger is just PICKY about which pictures I choose. These two were runners up. They are more expounding on the yay that is Arizona- a wild poppy and a herd of daisy looking things. Jeez, I didn't even make my announcement, I was so busy running my monologue. Tomorrow!
P.S. Thank you for making me feel like I'm not overreacting about neighborhood safety! Y'all make me feel all warm an squishy!! :P
On sale now! This fixer upper reduced to only $999,899!! The median home price in my county came out today: $770,000 Homes sold for $1,000,000 or more: 21% Homes sold for $600,000 or less: 17% Average rental price for a 1 bedroom apt/ house: $1,100 Average rental price for a 2 bedroom apt/ house: $1,590 Number of husbands making income equal to mine I'd need to buy my own home: 3.8... or, I guess we could share a 2 bedroom house with another couple... or live in a studio forever... we'll put the bassinet on the counter between the toaster and the fridge! :D Or if I get really lucky I could buy a red tagged "scraper" for $395,000, that is, when I have $80,000 to put down. I won't hold my breath. Tell me again why I live here?
This is not a pretty, kind, cheerful post. Feel free to skip it. I try to only watch happy movies, and read happy things, and, in fact, write as positively as I can, because I think that's what this world needs most, plus escapeism is a high priority for me. I try not to be offensive, a whiner, or a downer. But fact is, sometimes stuff sucks, and sometimes we can't keep it all inside. I don't feel like I have any course of action available to me when things like this happen, except to record it. This car doesn't brake for pets. I would like it if my cats stayed out of the driveway. I share it with the neighbor, so it dead ends at their house, next to mine. Driveways should be safe for cats, dogs, and children, and if I'm being too much of an idealist, I still think that cars should watch out for pets and kids MORE than the other way around, though critters and youg ones should still take care. There have been countless times that I've been woken in the middle of the night by cars tearing down this driveway, revving the engine, and giving me an adrenaline fueled panic/ rage that becomes insomnia. The father is a very decent man, but his kid, well he's what reflects poorly on young adults, the stereotypical bad kid. His father has told me that he's at a loss for how to get his son in line. I have never felt safe enough to say anything, not even tonight when I watched one of this kid's friends, driving this Mazda Tribute, not even touch the brakes for my cat. He was going fast enough that my heart started pounding fast and hard. I was standing right there, and he obviously didn't give a crap. Why am I too afraid to say anything? Because I fear retribution. I'm afraid that I will only come off as, well, a bitch. And that next time, instead of avoiding the brakes, maybe they will hit the gas. I know this sounds like a pessimistic, uncharitable view of my fellow humans, but all I have to go by is experience. Tonight, my cat was quick enough, barely, to live. I've held a cat in my arms as he died vomiting blood, and I'll never know if he was accidentaly poisoned... or not. Will the next car be too fast? Will the next poisoning be accidental? What can I do? The only solution I have ever been able to come up with is to run away, far away, to where there are no neighbors. On the other hand, having to flee from a society that I have just as much right to be in, safely and without fear, as the next person, doesn't seem right. Hell, maybe I'm overreacting. But I'd rather act before I lose another furry family member, than after. Even if fleeing is the only answer I can come up with. That, and doccumenting it. So here's the record. I hope I never have to write one that ends worse.
Oh the wonderous joy, it rained. It's been four or five months, and I had completely forgotten how incredibly wonderful and cleansing it is. The air smells so fresh, and the dust is settled. The plants are all heavy and drooping. It's 60 degrees out right now, up from 50 when I went out this morning. I don't know if we'll get more rain, but it's gray out, which I love. We're in "stage 2" water conservation, whatever that means, but that's what the signs posted all over the 'hood say. We'd need about 40 times more rain to get back to normal. We're under a mandatory 20% water usage reduction per household rule right now, which disgruntles me. It would be one thing to give every one a set gallon per day usage, but a 20% reduction? That means the people who hose down their driveway everyday have to cut down to, what, 5 days a week instead? Whereas those of us who already conserve as much as possible should what? Umm, drink beer instead of water? (Ooooh...) I don't have a lawn. I use 3 watering cans every third day for my garden. I turn off the water while brushing my teeth- I know a lot of people just let it run. I'm registered green party, man! My car gets washed once a year! Ok, maybe I shouldn't admit that, heehee.
Anyway, I went out to just enjoy the beautiful day, and hang out with my kitties. I thought the rain would have knocked down a bunch of acorns, and it did, so I tossed some for the cats, all 5 of whom flocked around. Now, you know when you're hanging out with some one, and you see something cool? You point it out, because you want to share. When I'm out with the cats and I find something I know they'll like, like a feather, I call them over and point it out. Usually they have a good sniff, and that's that.
Well. I saw a dead rat, not rain soaked, so I guess fresh from this morning. I know, I know, I am so weird. And I wasn't really thinking ahead when I called over the kitties, especially the kittens, who are extra curious youths. I SWEAR I thought they would just sniff it. But it seems that fresh rat is the best thing since sliced bread. Ok, eeeew, sliced bread and dead rat do NOT belong in the same sentence. Guess who's not getting snuggles anytime soon?? I SAW where those paws have been! I tried to stop them, because, uh, germs much? Shudder. Yet I couldn't help laughing at the sheer exuberance Maggie and her sister Sebastian bounced around with. I finally distracted them with acorn skipping and then shoveled a bunch of duff over the corpse. Poor lil rat. Oh gad, come to think of it, I'm glad they didn't actually start EATING it. Aaaaaand now I'm changing the subject. It's always good to be able to laugh at your own jokes, but to be able to gross yourself out? Why didn't I think of this BEFORE I pointed out the dead rodent?
Ah, well. It's a beautiful weekend, the cats are happy, I'm happy, even the trees are happy (I can tell) and I guess a little rodent toss is just part and parcel when you love cats. It's just going to have to be love from afar for awhile. Yuck.
I was 14 when "Indecent Proposal" came out, and I wanted to see it soooo bad, but I wasn't allowed to watch rated R movies. When I finally saw it, I wasn't that impressed. It was okay. Well, when I was 13 and 14, my favorite show in the universe was Beverly Hills 90210. Shhh, I know, but I was far from alone. After Beverly Hills, Melrose Place came on, and I wanted to watch that, too, but again, couldn't (it started at my bedtime on a school night). So MP came out on dvd, and my netflix list had dipped below a hundred. I thought, yay I can finally watch it! Well... that show was the most embarassing thing I think I've ever seen. I won't be getting the rest of the season. Talk about cheese factor 5000. TV has come a loooong way in 15 years. Just thought I'd share that... maybe as a helpful movie hint? Don't get stuff that you thought was cool 15 years ago. You could probably apply that to a lot more than just movies. Clothes, haircuts, cassette players, computers that take floppy discs- that are actually floppy. Anyhoo...
In kitty news, I'm going to see what I can do to get the kittens everything they need AND keep their ears intact. I'll see if I can wheel and deal some bargains. Maggie found out that the best spot to sleep is up against the oh so cozy and warm fishtank light. And in case she gets too warm? The fountain-like filter will keep her other side nice and cool! Silly kitten! Oh yeah, the "mystery plant"? Yup, four o' clocks all right.
I took these kittens in, to save them from growing past the point of taming and then being caught and killed. I took the responsibility to have them spayed and to find them a good loving home. Which turned out to be the same home I live in. Strange. They're still feral, unless the human in question is me, and then they're tame as... kittens. Wait. I mean, they're so loving and sweet and cuddly, but only with me. They even come when I call (this has NOTHING to do with treats, I SWEAR). Actually, CommonLaw bought some very special treats to make friends with them, but they still think I'm the next best thing to ol' Mommydad Clarence. I digress with my cat pleasin' ego.
Now that Maggie is on probation and not fully grounded, both kittens are really learning to handle the wide world. Which means it's time to get them spayed, and vaccinated, so as not to perpetuate the cycle. There are organizations, like Project Purr, which will do these neccessary medical procedures for minimal fees, and some, like Adobe, don't even take the cats overnight, or expect you to keep a feral, caged, pissed off cat in your home while it recuperates. Not that that would be a problem in my case. My coworker, however, took in some of the ferals behind our office and then had to house them for a while. These were not loving and cuddly like mine, they were wild adults.
Anyway, here's the problem. I can take Maggie and Sebastian to Adobe, and for a measly 25 dollars each they will get spayed AND shots. It would be 400 dollars each if I took them to a regular vet. But Adobe, and Project Purr, mark the cats that they've treated, to prevent recapture and unecessary handling. By cutting off the tip of one ear.
It's noticeable, it has to be. Now, I know that after the initial trauma and pain, Maggie and Sebastian will recover just fine. They won't suffer ostracism by their perfectly-formed-ear peers. And I am a die hard believer in inner beauty... but... that doesn't mean I have anything against external beauty. It brings tears to my eyes imagining them disfigured for life. I could afford to have them spayed, 40 dollars each at the vet, for starters. But it could take up to a year to afford all their shots, during which time they would be vulnerable to awful things like lukemia and rabies and who knows what else. I have a little time, because they need to be 4 pounds, and while Sebastian, the little porker, might be that weight, I think poor Maggie was stunted or something by her two outdoor adventures. She's all tiny and delicate, but still, it's not something I can put off. I just don't want them marred like that. :*( What would you do?
I waited for this for so long. I came home from my trip to these two periwinkle colored blooms, and the next day, a fuchia one. I tried planting these last year, soaked the seeds over night and evrything, and they never sprouted. This year, when September hit, I thought my sad three foot vines with about 8 leaves each were doomed to be flowerless, and I'd have to wait a whole year again. And then these lovely flowers took me completely by surprise, with countless (ok, five) more buds promising to add color to my garden. (The pink bud a couple weeks ago lived it's entire life in the space of a ten hour work day, so I never got to see it.) Considering I get about two hours of direct sun a day, I was pretty proud of myself. And to ice the ol' cake, the mystery plant popped a flower as well. I was so dang pleased. Was. Yes, I'm afraid... all deer must die. Ok, ok, deer are cute, and I love watching my cats stalking them, fully believing they can take down a creature 20 times their size. But why did they have to eat only those two plants??? The squash? Still blooming away. The warped, clownish cucumbers, untouched. My mystery plant and entire morning glory vine.... shredded. Brutalized. Deflowered. I am sad. :( Ok, now what the heck is this flower?? It's something embarassingly common that everyone but me knows, isn't it. C'mon, tell me, pleeeease. The plant is about 3 feet tall, but the ones I gathered the seeds from are a bushy four feet, they come in every color and then some (orange with pink stripes? cool!) and they die in the winter, down to nothing. I can never remember if that's annual or perennial. Anyway, let the mystery plant be a mystery no more! And FINE the deer can live, but I'm sprinkling crushed red pepper over my entire (remaining) garden. And I'm hiding the water. So when them woodland cows get some burning tongues they will think again!!! Grrrrrrrr.
My kind of view. And an Arizona view, but not illustrative of my story. A story which has already been told several times, but really MUST be recorded for posterity. I just wanted to share something pretty before this particular tale.
I always thought posterity was something noble, grand, or otherwise integrity laden, but when I looked it up for spelling (and to make sure it really is a word) I saw that it just means "all succeeding generations". Which, really, is better for what I'm using it for anyway, better than any upstanding implications. Okay, enough preamble.
Mom had picked me up from the airport, and we were heading to her place, when she said there was something I had to see. Something I had to, in fact, take a picture of. She was right, and when she pulled over so I could get the shot, I was laughing, but it was a kind of incredulous laughing. Hilarious, but also.... what the heck?? Why, WHY is there a three dimmensional bull on this Adult Cabaret sign?? Why?? On Moonlight Dr even. I mean, this should be a deli or a butcher sign, and while it IS for a meat market of sorts, still, it's just... not right. Could we just drive on, our questions and curiosity unallayed forever? Well, I could have. But there was a man out front of the Adult Cabaret, and he was beckoning us over. "Let's go ask him," mom suggested between fits of laughter. "OH GOD Mom NO," I said, horrified. "He'll be on MY side of the car!!" She was already rolling MY window down. "It's okay, I'll talk to him," she attempted to reassure me, already pulling up to the guy. "We could use some girls in here," he said, a creepy look smeared across his face. He was looking us up and down, and didn't even hear Mom ask him about the bull. She asked him again, and as I was sort of slouching down and away from the window I was able to see a guy peering over the edge of the roof at us, an excited half grin as he imagined a couple gals coming in. Meanwhile, creepy dude finally got what Mom was asking and got a half dumb (I'm sorry, but it was) half vacant look on his face as he pondered the question. "We got a lotta bulls in here", he finally said, brightening with his own wit. "OMG Mom go!" I don't know if I actually said this out loud, or was praying mentally, but Mom said something like, "ok then," and peeled out of that dirt parking lot quick enough to spin the tires a little. We were still laughing ten minutes later, and it just doesn't lessen every time I see that picture. I don't think the question was really, fully answered, but it's probably for the best. Besides, it's not like we're ever going back for clarification. Unless, I guess, Mom's driving.
Seven days later and I'm finally feeling like I'm on the mend. Yesterday I took Clarence to get his stitches out, YAY no more Mr. Conehead, but that simple trip wiped me out. Even interacting with my computer has been almost too much. But now, NOW you're in for it. Vacation photo time!!!!
Okay, so while it was The Best Trip Ever, it always helps to have some dark evil contrast to really highlight good stuff. The only thing more terrifying than zombies is... THIS. Caterpillars. They were everywhere. And they were huge. Are you cringing yet? Okay, I know, this next picture illustrates a more common fear:
the loss of limbs. But if I were to lose two limbs, I would be at 50%, whereas this spider has 6 legs left, and still seems perfectly capable of building her home. Logically speaking, the fear of caterpillars is senseless compared to fear of bodily harm. But guess what?? There is a NAME for this fear. Scoleciphobia. How validated am I now? HAHA! Okay, well technically, it's the fear of WORMS, which also terrify me, but a furless caterpillar is equally gross and freaky. Dang, except when they are also strangely, almost... pretty.
This was a lavender inchworm, and while putting me on high alert, I still had to get it's picture. If it had jumped at me, (yes, caterpillars jump at you, the better to latch on to your face and bore into your skull and eat your brains) I would have screamed bloody murder. It didn't, though, and after I put some space between me and it I felt much better. And on the whole, I dealt with the whole caterpillars everywhere thing pretty darn well. Except for this one. This one elicited yelps and shivers. Oh gad, I can't even look at this for more than a second.
This one moved FAST, fueling my belief in their ninja capabilities. And it was easily FOUR INCHES LONG. O...M...G... feeling faint just remembering how close I got. If I haven't mentioned this before, my camera will be the death of me. Caterpillars= hazardous to my health. I need some coffee now, to reward myself just for looking at that thing again. Coffee's good for a flu/ cold, right? Yeah, about as much as the above critters are bad for me.
P.S. I am so bad. I dropped a coffee bean (that's bad but not what I meant) and immediatly kicked it under the counter. Umm, instead of, you know, picking it up. It was a totally automatic response. I am the best housekeeper ever! Well, at least now it won't get stepped on and ground up into the floor.... Have I mentioned that I rule?
"TED welcomes you, and hopes you have a safe trip. TED would like to offer you complimentary coffee. TED hopes to see you soon!" TED is part of United. As some sort of marketing adventure, United airlines is calling their company and services TED, and the flight attendants and captains talk about TED like he's a person. And it's creepy. Overkill on the attempt to be more personable. Umm, TED? Get away from me. You're freaking me out. I mean what IS TED? An invisible entity residing in the aircraft? The "boss" sitting 20 stories up in some boardroom full of CEO's? He grows more tangible with every refrence. It was kind of funny at first, but... Anyway, this is the view I had to endure on my trip. Awful, huh? All epiphany inducing and whatnot. How many epiphanies can a person take, anyway, before they start having visions and talking to themselves? Well, I already talked to myself before this so that indicator is out of the equation. I did keep thinking I saw my cats, though. Sometimes it was just Milo, Mom's little dog, but- sometimes it wasn't. Phantom cats aside, it was the best trip EVER. All that endless sky and tree dotted hills, the lack of traffic noise... a person could start to want that on a regular basis, heaven forbid. But the real deal sealer on moving? My new room: This "shower", hereafter referred to as "my room", has it all. Custom artwork in the gorgeous handcrafted tiles made by my very own Mum and Stepdad, a mesmirizing view, a shower head that you can pull down and spray directly on your toes and across your shoulders... And. OMG... a tankless water heater. Which equals endless hot water. ENDLESS. It was almost impossible to get out, which is why I'm moving in. Someone will have to bring me my meals... Mom?
Oh, and the blankity blank Airborne? SO didn't work. I am a pile of aching, hacking, fluid drinking (and excreting EEEW) sick human being. TED? You might want to get a face mask or breath filter of some kind. All that recycled breath from hundreds of people that you sealed me into your cylindrical confines with really put a damper on any chance at fond feelings, first name basis or not. And your coffee? Just not up to standards.
Not that my level of standards are the LEAST bit high.
Tomorrow I fly. Not really on a gryphon. Just a 21st century flaming cylinder of death. Actually it's the germs that scare me, not crashing, but I bought that Airborne stuff and it was seven dollars so it better work! It has echinacea in it... Man, I was all freaking out and running around packing and I'd put one pair of socks in my bag and then walk over to my desk looking for a pen, then get a shirt in the suitcase, then scan my bookshelf, aaaack. I thought some coffee would help, geegreatideanowI'mreallygoingcrazy. So, on my second cup I added a splash of Kahlua and now I am relaxing. A little. I can't wait to see my Mom! If only I could skip the driving through city rush hour traffic and getting hurried through the strip/ scan/ detect line and just be there... Omg can't sit still. Too many racing thoughts. What am I forgetting? What's not on my list? Where IS my list? Oh dear. No more coffee for me. I will never get too sleep, haha. I wonder if there is high speed internet there? Will my kitties be fine? OMG that's it I'm taking the cats. Oh, wait no. Can't do that. Maybe I should take something fur encrusted to think of them. Haha, ok logging for real now. I will be back, maybe even when there.. we'll see.
I know I'm not the ONLY person who's excited to get this in the mail, but maybe I'm in the minority. My coworker Ted got one this week, and I was so jealous. I have always wanted to be on a jury, I think it would be FASCINATING. Maybe in real life it's boring, plus it sucks if you can't afford to miss a day at work (me). Anyway, when I pulled the envelope outta the mailbox, I totally grinned. I'm sure my eyes lit up like I'd gotten confirmation from ol' Ed Mcmahon with his publishers clearing house junk. It was another wish granted. I got one once before, right after I turned 18, but my group number wasn't called.
My BBFL actually got on a jury! And he said it WAS fascinating. The responsibility factor would be gnarly though. I know I should hope I don't get it, 'cause of the money, but I wanna! Of course, if I actually get to the interview stage, I'll probably act so nervous they'll think I'm like a closet criminal or something. I can just see the pit stains now. Plus, it says, "dress appropriately for the courtroom" and all I have are jeans! :O But then again, after that it says, "The temperature of the jury assembly area and courtrooms can be unpredictable, so jurors are encouraged to dress accordingly". Uh, so I guess they don't know, either, what you should wear. Sweater and sweatpants over shorts and your dressiest hawaiian shirt??....
Well, I won't find out for 3 weeks. So here's hopin'.. and not... and ok hopin' just a wee bit.
P.S. I was on the headset with some fellow gamers and one guy said to another (about me) oh, she's from CALIFORNIA. Like, dude, what are you talking about? Totally gnar-gnar man.
P.P.S. Don't worry Clarence has 3 fingers of space between the cone and his po lil neck, and though it's still torture, he will be free soon. When the stitches come out, that is, so he doesn't, um, eat them EEW.
Warning: The following post contains the words Poo, Flush, and Porta-Potty. Squeamish reader discretion advised.
Clarence has been alternately annoying and miserable being stuck inside, and loving and snuggly. And occasionally doped up. Also, he makes me laugh hysterically with his conehead looks. "Hey mom, there ya are. You think you could help me out? I got this itch, see, and maybe you could take this hat thing off? Just for a second?? I'm dyyyyyying. It's kiiiiiillllling me. Aaaaagck. Don't you looooove me?
He is not at all amused by the litterbox, either. When he finally went, he didn't even bury it! Wouldn't that feel... incomplete? Like not flushing? Digression- we all know porta-potty's suck, but besides the smell it's the incompleteness that is so wrong. No flush, no washing of hands. When I worked at Renaissance Faire and camped on the grounds every weekend one summer, I learned this secret: when you're done, say, out loud, "flush". Okay, maybe look around first, see if there's anyone to hear you. But seriously, even if you just whisper "flush", you'll feel so much better. Don't just think it, verbalize it, I'm tellin' ya. Was that too much information? Because I must warn you, I'm not done yet. Back to Clarence and his unburied poo. Well, I got up right quick to fix the smell, I'll at least spare you details on my plan, but when I got there I saw Sebastian, in the litterbox, burying Clarence's poo for him. AAAAWWW that's about as cute as a poo story can get!!
P.S. I wonder if licking his bonnet is like a mental crutch for the itches he can't reach. Hey! Like saying "flush"!
It's been a long, lazy, HOT weekend. There's a lot of people out, it's like rush hour all day. And while it's been nice staying home and doing nothing, I find myself already dreading tuesday. Then again, who looks forward to getting up at five to go work 11 hours for 8 hours pay at a job they hate with Satan as their boss?? I guess my dread is understandable. I usually think of anticipation as a very bad feeling, like, say, a dentist's waiting room. Woooo, feel faint just remembering the smell of burning tooth, gag. But there are some really awesome anticipations out there. Like this. Distractions are great, too. I "went" to a huge party last night, in the Eastern Kingdoms. There were at least twenty people on what's like a party phone line. We all have headsets and can talk all at once or take turns, as our avatars run together, dancing and battling at our command. One guy was in Australia, gotta love the accent! I realized the last time I hung out with non-family friends was about 3 months ago, except for online. That's really ok though, 'cause my Dad and his wife are just as fun as old highschool buddies, and, besides, I'm a hermit. Haha! And soon I will be going to AZ to visit me Mum, who's also a best friend. Anyway, as far as work is concerned, I still cling to the hope that someday the insomnia and stress will pay off and I will have my little slice of eden. Anticipation and waiting it out sometimes brings in a bounty, like these onions! Today was harvest day for about half my crop, and they pulled out of the ground like they were leaping from it, no resistance at all. They were grape sized too, unlike the earlier pea size one HAHA! Eeek, in one freshly vacated onion hole was a worm, which I'm glad was in there, 'cuz they're great for the soil, but they still creep me out!! Enough to elicite a verbalization of my startlement and grossed out-ness. Omg, and the mystery plant has a flower bud!! That's good anticipation AND distraction! Yay! Here's to gardens for the multiple ways they enrich our lives. Good place to hide the bosses' body, too. KIDDING!!!!!!!!!