Monday, January 31, 2011

What is invention the mother of?

Strange food!


I'm inventing all this crazy food right now.

1. A weird corn flour pudding cooked in an iron frying pan. Delicious! Would have been better with salt. Amazing texture, like a grainier marshmallow. No leavening. As soon as I poured it into the pan, I thought, "Ack! Leavening!"

2. A bizarre risotto thing made out of the chestnut broth from when I boiled them (not with the shells, without) and rice and dried mushrooms and a little beef bouillon and some spices that don't quite fit with any of those and certainly not with them together. I'm scared to taste it because it smells kind of off-putting. But maybe it'll morph into awesomeness! It was supposed to be soup. Too much rice.

3. And pumpkin pie from the last of the pumpkins I just roasted, for which I used an actual recipe, what a relief. Without the crust, though. I don't think pie crust is my friend.

Most of the risotto weirdness is that the smell is unidentifiable. It's like very foreign food that's so off your olfactory radar that you're not sure it's food. Well, especially combined with the pie that's in the oven. Maybe it actually smells all right on its own. Maybe I should try it, huh?

Hmm. I tried it. It's not good. I mean I'd eat it if I were starving to death, but otherwise, probably not. Oh well! There goes thirty cents of rice. I am not too broken up.

How odd, the flat pie-plate pie is done but the much smaller but deeper little souffle dish pie is not done. So depth is the crucial factor, eh? Now we know. Must make cup pies one of these days! Or acquire tart pans.

Today I finally got a replacement for that utterly sucky 5 gallon gas can I got, ooh, a year ago. And then filled it up with gas and bungeed it to the inside of the way-back so it wouldn't cause a localized disaster. But guess what? It doesn't leak! Because of how it's a good one, not a sucky one! Yay!

I got it due to Snowpocalype Tomorrow, where we're supposed to get multiple feet of snow and a bunch of ice that could bring down power lines and all that. So I might need the generator, see. It's already full of I forget how much gas but I need my gas can to be full, too.

To be honest I'm sorely tempted to go fill the other one as well. Hmmmmmm. Resist! Resist! But I mean, gas is a thing you can always use up. Just pour it into the car. I don't know, I'll think about it. And then it'll snow and I won't want to stop anyway.

I can decant the sucky one into the good one with a funnel. I just can't use the pour spout on the sucky one because it leaks everywhere, which also means it leaks vapors, which is VERY BAD and can make you go boom. So never mind.

Oh crap, another thing to add to the list of things I have two of but shouldn't. Secretly I also have a one gallon gas can that's supposed to live in the car for emergencies (empty) but it has a pint of gas in it left over from when my lawn mower worked. Argh.

Hi! How's it going? Want some pie?

Nobody said anything about my haircut today, which means they hated it. Awwwww. It's not like you could possibly fail to notice it. That makes me sad! I think it looks awesome. So nyah.

I'm having severe going-to-sleep problems lately, for the past two weeks or so, and not unexpectedly concomitant can't-get-up-in-the-morning problems. I decided to take two benadryl at 8:00 until I see the doc on Thursday and then see what she says.

Last night after watching about ten million Boneses I dreamed about the characters all night long. Awesome! Except I was there too and Booth was merged with my friend Lars. And Booth/Lars were helping me evacuate from some emergency and I had to reduce all of my belongings to about four boxes in about ten minutes to fit them on the helicopter. Panic!

Notice the emergency doesn't bother me, but having to decide what to keep and what to lose FOREVER is a totally anxious thing. Heh.

I don't think Booth and Lars are much alike except in that they're both tall boys of similar shape and stature and degrees of beautifulosity. Like a lot of other people, see what I'm saying? I mean, so's Karl Urban, but you don't see me dreaming about him. But, I mean, in the actually important ways, they're nothing alike. (Well, they're something alike. [A Lars joke.])

Okay, so benadryl at 8, probably shouldn't watch eight or ten Bones episodes in a row all evening and right up to bedtime, and also NO FREAKING SPIDER SOLITAIRE.

This is how spider solitaire is bad:

1. It eats enormous amounts of time.
2. I spend that time essentially worrying in verboten gerbil-wheel manner.
3. I get nothing else done.
4. It kills my eyes.
5. It kills my hands.
6. I hold still all that time, which is very bad for me.
7. The combination of all those things I *think* is contributing to the insomnia.

Insomnia makes me feel terrible! I feel pretty terrible now. Plus I look so tired. Am going to bed soonish, this I vow.

Due to the lingering effect of the dreams all day, I was telling someone today about what a huge dorkus I was when I failed to turn right on red by the Fox lot because I was ogling Boreanaz as he was waiting to cross the street, except he couldn't cross the street because of the traffic that was supposed to be turning right on red and wasn't. Meaning me. Until I got honked at and went, "Oh! Sorry! Staring at that boy!" And turned right on red all be-flustered. Dorkus, am I right? Yes.

It also occurred to me that I really am incapable of finding men in suits attractive, yet Booth manages it somehow. But he's the only one. And I'm always very pleased when he wears something else, like normal human clothes. Why do I dislike suits so much? I really don't know. Maybe you can hypnotize me one day and dig up my buried memories, except I don't actually think I have any. Suits? Who even wears suits? Nobody in academia. Maybe the president of the school, but that's all.

I only discovered the revulsion with WB executives or lawyers or whatever they were in the elevator. I admit I used to get out at the first opportunity when they got in. Any floor would do. Oh dear.

Mystifying. Suits, ugh, brrrrrrrr. Maybe it's just generalized patriarchy revulsion since the suit is the symbol of all that, isn't it? Could well be.

It's not you, it's the socio-political cultural institutions and repressive gender stratifications your wardrobe stands for!

Plus of course Booth has the socks and the goofy ties and the cocky belt buckle. He's not a generic suit.

Hmmmmmmmm.

I caught part of an NCIS episode the other day and was struck by how similar to Bones it is and how utterly unlike it also. Similar in all the obvious premise ways. Dissimilar in that all the characters do that snide Law and Order delivery, like everything they say is an insult, except for the oddball old guy and oddball young woman. It makes me supremely uncomfortable. So nasty! So consistently nasty all the time!

Bones really is nice, isn't it? I've noticed that the only mean thing there used to be, which of course was Booth being mean to Sweets, has gone away. Now Booth is nice and supportive to Sweets. Brennan is still blunt and brutally honest but not in a mean way, just in an Aspergian way.

If you lasted this long, I am AMAZED and you get this medal and some pie! Congratulations!




Now tell me what invention is the mother of. Besides questionable risotto.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Snow versus humans, part ten zillion

Shoveling a path through the snow to walk Future Dog is ridiculously hard, man! I'm going to do some every day and hope to keep ahead of it somehow. Whole paths I've made by walking have completely vanished! No trace of my three foot deep footprints! Madness.

Sisyphean dog path, I tell you what.

I read one of those fable type things in an English reader in about fifth grade where this kid goes to an older guy and asks him to help him get all big and muscular. The old guy says he needs to think about it and gets the kid to saw wood for him every afternoon. The kid comes back every day and saws wood and eventually of course gets all big and muscular and the old guy is like, Yep, uh-huh, yes you are.

I have the absolute conviction that Future Dog will make everything SUPER AWESOME but I think a bunch of it is all the associated going for walks and shoveling giant paths and being forced to get up in the morning and all that. Though of course furry snuggling and having someone else on guard so I can chill out sometimes and that whole fabulous doggy thing where you come home and the dog is like HURRAY IT'S YOU OH BOY are incredibly glorious as well. All good!

Except for the part where they roll in vile things and you have to scrub it off, gagging and yakking and befouling the bathmat and the shower and the towels.

Also, skunks!

Also wet dog smell and dirty pawprints.

But mostly awesomeness! You know it!

The kitty comes trotting to the door very happy to see me when I come home every day, so I already have that going on. Yay, kitty! Man, I have the best kitty in the world. He loves dogs so much, and he really needs company, but I'm worried it'll stress him out hugely or they won't get along or whatever. Even though I know he'll do fine. But worrying! But fine. But worry! But fine. But....shut up!

So, yeah, snow. Snow! It's supposed to come pounding down again Wednesday night. Arrrrgh! They close down work when there's a huge snowstorm and then I get unpaid and stuff. Plus, you know, shoveling and then becoming a big old staggering zombie. Plus the whole perilous driving circumstances.

I'm developing SNOW DREAD. Whatever! Get over it!

My haircut is awesome but gets all foofy out in the humidity and turns into that woman with the yarn shop from the Wallace and Gromit short feature, A Close Shave. An Aardman claymation person! Yes!


It looks WAY MORE like that than I would like to admit. SO MUCH LIKE THAT. Ahahahahahahahaha!

Pass the conditioner.

I'm going to iron some things now. Not my hair, though.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Two sweaters, two!

Well, one's a vest. With the sweater over it. Is that weird? It's very warm and cozy.

Here's my ridiculous problem of the day: the snow and getting all hot and sweaty from plowing through the snow has made my hair all crazy curly. Like, coiled up springy curly. How can I cut it when it's like this? I can't. But I need to cut it tonight so I can wash the bathroom rugs tomorrow. What is a person to do?

Here's my ridiculous solution of the day, though unrelated to the ridiculous problem: I read the thing I just started and stopped and was able to figure out WHY I stopped, which somehow isn't a thing I ever know when it's happening. I'm just all, "Ack! Stop!" But tonight I read it and thought several things:

1. sometimes I write things I really like
2. there's a problem with part of the premise. MUST FIX IT
3. oh boy, I'm getting one million times better at that thing where you obliquely lift the mystery into being, rather than going, "Someone did a thing, WHO CAN IT BE?"
4. I'm in love with the guy already, phew! get me one of those!
5. this book is all about trust issues, which is kind of hilarious
6. there's a huge slobbery mastiff that isn't written in yet such that I keep going, "Where is the dog? Where?"
7. the boy's mama is going to give her three cows. Just you wait.
8. there's all this dread and tension, holy yikes--it really stresses me out. I guess that's good though.

I am not kidding about the guy, either. I do not know anyone like this, nor have I ever, so I don't know where he came from. Except maybe AWESOME WORLD.

I'm suddenly realizing that everything I write is basically a love letter to a place. How weird is that? I know! Places, though. I like 'em. Which also makes me realize I should write about my little corner of L.A., which I never did one bit, except in bloggery. It's so vivid, still. But this thing and the whole last book are Mainey. The cozy mystery with all those non-cozy issues (I have thoughts about how to change that...but very major rewrite involved) is totally small college town Pennsylvania. Got screenplays for Oregon (multiple) and Philadelphia and scary awful small town Pennsylvania (several).

Innnnnnteresting. Well. Hmm!

Here's my ridiculous solution to the problem I didn't know I was having: the inflatable bed suffered polymer fatigue and totally croaked. I found the spot where the leak is and it's a seam, so the kitty is exonerated. Be free, kitty! So anyway I went back to the old padded whatevers and cushions on the couch and guess what? So much more comfortable! I can sit still for hours! Hours, man! Win win win win win! Because what is the worst enemy of writing? No, even worse than spider solitaire. Getting up and doing something else!

So now I have to think and think about the premise. It has to do with the weird and spooky job our heroine gets on like page two. I don't know. It gives me pause. I have to do some real thinking about it. I'd say I'd go for a walk tomorrow and think about it, since Surly Goth Girl was out walking yesterday and therefore it must not be fatal to do so (unless she is gothily courting her own demise!) but then it snowed a bunch more today and I haven't even checked to see how much more came down.

Dang. Am I going to have to shovel a path all around the field for Future Dog? Or will we break a path by floundering? I think I'll try walking around the field tomorrow, but with very short steps and also ski poles, since I nearly fell to my doom about twenty times today. Also I really want to find my rain pants. Where are you, rain pants? Come back to me!

That is the outcome of my extensive thinkery this very day.

Quandrified, ack!

I'm supposed to go visit Stately Burns Manor, but it is snowing tres viel and also I just utterly wrecked myself by slogging through the stupidly deep snow, stupidly!

Here is the thought process, if I may dignify it with that name:

The bread is in the oven! That means I have 25 minutes!
I have to go get the mail anyway.
And that compost isn't going away.
Suit up!
Where are my rain pants? Search, search. Unfindable!
I will put on these gaiters, at least.
Wait, they don't zip over these giant boots.
Velcro them on any old way.
And we're off!

Which meant I had about 15 minutes to get to the compost pile and then get all the way to the south end of the yard dragging the Christmas tree.

Here is how deep the snow is: I dragged the tree with the trunk right at hand level and it was resting on top of the snow. I stayed dry up to the knees due to high boots and gaiters, but am soaked to mid-thigh. Awesome. Why did I bother with the gaiters?

It's hard to convey how hard it is to walk through snow that deep. It just takes tremendous effort. Especially when one is a stationary marshmallow type person. And when one was staggering a bit even in the nice flat snowless house.

So that's why I'm not sure about going out in the dark and the ongoing snowfall on the snowy roads in the snow. But I baked them this bread! Must take them the hot bread! They love it, see. Dang, man.

Well, I have to change anyway. Let's see how staggery I am afterward.

Other massive accomplishments today:

vacuumed the whole very small house thoroughly, not in my usual demi-bottomed manner
took apart and cleaned the vacuum cleaner
found the leak in the inflatable bed (not the cat's fault--polymer fatigue)
pumped up the giant ball that is a chair
scrubbed the garbage pails (I have no idea why. I might have been possessed.)
put away last week's laundry (shame)
reconstructed a usable couch seating area from available soft padded materials
verbed the nouns for Online Job
did the daily Online Job thing
dried my hair with the hair dryer so I can cut it later, though getting all snowed on sogged it up again
braved the frozen tundra as described above

Must resolve quandary. I feel like a quandary is an exotic, possibly mesozoic beast, with two horns like a dilemma, which I also feel is an exotic, possibly mesozoic beast. Even though neither is. But a dilemma has two horns! That makes it a kind of antelope in my mind. So it goes. Resolve my antelope! Resolve!

Edited to add:
Resolved, in that there's already three inches of snow on the ground and the weather report says roads are slick and slippery (hmm) and that you should stay home. Also I called them and they didn't get anything, which means of course that they don't believe I really got any snow. Yay! I love being told I'm lying. Wait, no! No I do not.

People! Continuing to behave in the ways in which they behaved previously! And yet I am repeatedly shocked! Madness, I tell you what!

Time for fresh hot bread, yay!

Judgy on the words

Nobody reading this does this. Just so you know.

But if you write, "dappling in the dark arts," I have to stop reading what you write FOREVER. Though dappling is kind of evocative and it sounds like you're under a nice leafy tree on a sunny day, doing your dark magic. Very sneaky! No one would suspect!

Also, "nip it in the butt," which at least is funny, and I hear people say that out loud. I heard someone say it yesterday. 

Also if one more person misspells Battlestar Galactica I might lose my calm, seriously. Can you spell galaxy? Then you are all set to go! Save that extra L for later!

I won't even mention the loose/lose thing because you can blame that on Anglo-Saxon verbs and the great vowel shift and after all there's choose as well as moose. I think you might be hosed on that one, if you're the sort of person who can't spell things. Hosed is pronounced "hooooooozed." Okay, not really.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Yum, chestnuts

Here is what I would grow in an ideal world.

Well, first I'd own a bunch of land, that goes without saying.

Then I'd plant lots of raspberries around the edges, and a bunch of mulberry trees. Have you ever eaten mulberries straight off the tree, as many as you could? I have! SO GOOD! And I'd grow nuts, all kinds of nuts. Black walnuts are super good though very hard to crack. You can drive over them with the car and they still don't break. Some people drill a hole in a 2 x 4 the right size and put the black walnut in it and hit it with a hand-held sledgehammer. The hole is just so it won't fly across the room and kill someone. Hickory nuts are fabulous. They grow at the EF.

Rhubarb, of course, lots of rhubarb. Squash and pumpkins. Kale and other greens, though I'm strangely ungood at growing greens. Why? Beans and beans and beans. Apples, peaches, plums, pears. Herbs, those are easy. I'm kind of over-tomatoed still from last summer but some of those excellent heirloom ones to make sandwiches out of would be great. Okay, and roma tomatoes for sauce.

Yum, I'm eating up some chestnuts. They're the nicest, softest, friendliest nut, aren't they? Oh boy! I got them for Christmas but only dealt with them, um, today. And only because I was re-reading Midnight Is a Place and the grandmother makes chestnut porridge overnight in a stone crock and the boy Lucas has it hot for breakfast, which just makes me wild to try it, how could you not?

I think a hot, nut-based breakfast sounds so very good. Today I finally put two and Greek yogurt and cheese together when I was all doubled over again (as all week) with that pain where my gallbladder used to be, which is when I remembered that I'm not allowed to eat that sort of thing, you guys, why didn't anyone remind me? I swear my mind has very convenient sieve-like properties that allow cheese!

So anyway the massively fat-laden Greek yogurt really has to get tapered off. Cheese is rare, but mmmm, that yogurt. I love that it took days and days and days for me to discover the cause and effect. Awesome. Oh yeah, and AGAIN.

Hot breakfast with things in it...like maybe stick oatmeal in the rice cooker with dried fruit and nuts in it? Or, I don't know, those sweet red beans they make that Japanese stuff out of. That would be so good. Research required.

Tonight I was going to make pizza and then I was like, "Oh yeah, cheese. Plus, oof." And so I made brown rice with kombu in it for dinner. Anti-cheese! Anti-yogurt! Also, remind me how much I totally love oatmeal. (Sumara: "Hey, you totally love oatmeal! A lot!") (Me: "Thanks, Sumara!")

Standing in the garage, looking around at all the THINGS, oh so many things, and making two lists in my head:

things I have two of that you really don't need two of, many more than I thought:
cellos
microwaves
rice cookers
ice cream makers
life jackets
canes
lawn mowers (one broken)
weed whackers
rakes
snow shovels (three, cough)
garden hoses

things for Future Dog:
life jacket (inherited)
leash
collar
sierra cup
tennis ball
ball flinger
dog beds (two)
brushes (to share with Mr. Kitty)
chewy bones

Must acquire canoe so that Future Dog can ride in it with me! The dog life jacket has a handle in the middle of the shoulders so you can hoist the dog into the canoe after he/she jumps out. Excellent! I always like the handles in the same place on the flak vests (or whatever) on Stargate Atlantis. I love it that they put a handle on people exactly where you'd need one to haul them away if injured. I love thinking of the meetings. I wish I had a handle right there! Or toddlers at least. Well, when they're in overalls, you can pick them up by the back of their straps. Very convenient.

I'm thinking of getting the doctor to take me off this medication, since I'm so zombified at all times that I can barely stagger to work and people look at me and ask whether I'm all there. Not really, but thanks for asking! Plus there's the not doing anything in the evenings. So not me! I bet she'll let me taper off it. She is very much of the school of thought that I am, as far as taking as little medication as possible at all times.

Plus I think it's kind of gluing me to the chair. Ugh!

Not the couch, since SOMEONE allegedly stuck his claws into it and now it's all flat and squashy. No more inflatable beds, man! I am getting a real mattress. What I'll use in the meantime, I don't know, but I've been exercising my brains over it. Like....what if I just put a lot of folded up thick blankets on the slats? What if I put those flat cushions on top of that? What if I go to that Unpainted Arizona store (or whatever the real world analogue is) and find a mattress for like fifty bucks? Did Nicholas Cage really name his son Kal-El? Do they just call him Kal as in Cal? Does he get mistaken for Berkeley?

Or it's tempting to take the back off, stick the bed frame thing in the attic, and get a real couch. Not as tempting as you might think, though. I'm only very slightly tempted. The mattress is a much better idea. They have new ones for not much at Hands of Hope! I just have to acquire "not much" and we'll be golden!

So this weekend one of my projects (supposing I come unglued from my chair) is to fix the couch back and put arms on the thing. WE SHALL SEE.

Other project: haircut. Other project also: make pumpkin pie with no crust, or possibly just some crunched up nuts. Other project more: jeans alteration. I've only gotten one side ripped open! Dang, it takes forever! Impatient with lack of progress!



Oops, I just hit the wall. No, I mean, metaphorically. I am going to go sleep A LOT. I wonder if chestnuts give you crazy dreams? Let's hope I don't get shot in them this time.


Tomorrow I'll make a brave foray through the four feet of snow or whatever to a) the compost pile and b) the woods, with the Christmas tree, which is still stuck in a snowpile next to the garage, where it looks quite fetching, I must say. Should be extremely difficult, all of it. No, really. Expect exhausted exclamations thereunto appertaining!

Thursday, January 27, 2011

It doesn't mean anything, but...

It tickled me that Twitter told me today that I am like:

Mimi Smartypants
Maureen Johnson
Chase Masterson
and WeAreDinosaurs

Yay!

By the way "broke up with Sarah Brown" meant that I used to read her blog and then I stopped because she CROSSED THE LINE. Like when someone reviewed a book I feel very strongly about (though oddly now I can't remember which one) and said, "It was sort of meh." YOU ARE DEAD TO ME.

It's hilarious that I can't figure out even what book it might have been. What favorite book of mine could you insult such that it would be fatal to our friendship? Hard to imagine, now. But then, the person wasn't a friend.

Oooh. It might have been Doomsday Book.

Oh just one sec

It's not at late as I think! That clock is about 1/2 hour fast. But it's still pretty late and I have to hit the hay. Oh, it's not a heavy burden or anything. All I can think about is comforters and flannel sheets and puffy pillows. Mmmmm.

But I have minor purchases acquired for a substantial savings to report and that just can't wait.

Item #1: a rectangular puffy fleece dog bed that goes in the dog crate. I maintain it needs some closed cell foam underneath. The cat maintains it is actually for cats and keeps lying in it.

#2: some chewy bones for dogs.

#3: giant yellow snowpants for me so I can walk the dog in the snow without getting all cold and wet all the time what with how the snow is up to my hips. Except they are outrageously too big! I thought men's 2XL would be suitable but they only had 3XL so I thought, okay, roomy, so I can wear jeans and stuff, but you guys these are the biggest gigantical literally twice as large as they need to be snowpants in the whole entire world. WOW are they big. I have to take them back. Or gain 200 lbs. Sad!

#4: a blue C-shaped ball flinger. To fling the ball!

Oh dang, I shoulda gotten some 50 cent dog towels for mud and general getting-wrecked-ness but forgot until just now.

Now I forget the other tinily priced items. It was like, the last one of the fancy high tech Underarmour women's tops in my size, so instead of $50 it was $1. Like that. Well, exactly like that. In fact, that.

Those snowpants would be so great if they were actually my size. I would go sledding in the yard! If I had a sled. Hey! I want a sled!

I have this powerful image in my mind that I would bring wood home by sliding the sled along on the snow while the dog frolics alongside. What is that, some kind of precognitive fantasy or an actual memory from childhood? I am so not sure! Anyway I don't have a fireplace. YET.

This weekend: haircut. It's time. I've been so positive my hair isn't growing, I was actually starting to worry about it, and then I saw a picture from baby Ryan's first day home from the hospital and oh yeah, my hair has grown in those two months. Grown OUT. I mean my haircut has grown out such that it looks like a grown out haircut.

I'm not quite sure how to cut it. So it stays triangular? MAYBE NOT. So it curves under? Can make me resemble that image of the cat with the green fruit helmet, or a person whose mother cuts their hair with a bowl. It's very very consistently doing that thing where the left side is all that one ice skater and the right side goes smooth smooth smooth sudden raggedy ripples like I got my hair caught in the shredder.

The urge to cut that sort of thing off is misguided but persistent. "I will just cut that part off," you think optimistically. "Then it'll be all nice and smooth!" No. That does not work. We know this. Though reducing the layering can help quite a lot.

Oh...I know what to do. Comb each section back and cut it so the layering is only in the back, like I used to do back when I cut my hair about every month in L.A. Then it goes back all nice and behaves.

Someone awesome is considering "setting me up" with someone though the whole thing boggles my mind and overall is very like kicking a giant wasps' nest that has fallen out of a tree. It fell and the wasps went bananas and raged around stinging everything in sight, but now they're kind of calm and coping with the new lay of the land, but still tense and watchful. And then you come along and kick the nest and it's a waspocalypse.

My thoughts go more or less like this in rapid succession:

I won't like them.
They won't like me.
I'll like them but they won't like me.
They'll like me but I won't like them and they won't go away.
It'll be awesome then they'll bolt and I'll be all sad.
It'll be murderously prosaic and sparkless.
I won't like someone perfectly nice because they're dull and normal.
I will like someone psychotic because at least they're interesting.
It'll be like when I broke up with Sarah Brown because she said Bones was so bad she thought they were kidding.

Well you can extrapolate the other two hours of nightmare imaginings. At no point do I imagine anything good happening even in the short term, even in the first two minutes after meeting short term. I can more easily imagine acquiring the ability to fly. MUCH more easily.

But then I go, "Aaaaaah, you don't know. Admit you don't know." And then I go, "Fine, I don't know." And then I think I'll just go along with it and try not to be so negative and just see what happens like watching a movie I know nothing about, which of course I would never in one million years do. 

So there's that.

Bones! Was that a weird episode, or what? My very favorite part by a million miles was Sweets and Caroline talking in his newly reverse angled office. Do you think that suddenly getting the reverse angle to that room for the first time ever is connected to what happened to Sweets? I think it has to be. We've only ever seen three sides and this time we spent most of the time looking at that fourth wall. So cool.

It almost distracted from Booth's apartment getting repainted as the victim's apartment set.

Oh dear. This is like when I only notice people's hands, isn't it? Noticing sets. Hmmm. So probably we shouldn't talk about how it was all those buildings on the Fox lot? And that one bridge in Griffith Park they use a lot? Or the very weird way the scene with Angela and Hodgins was shot in the minivan where they framed out the front and the windshield so it was a very narrow and shallow and awkward shot and reverse?

Who the heck directed this thing, anyway?

The story had the most peculiar shape. I might watch it a few more times before I talk about that, but it's quite a bizarre structure. The best thing about it was (of course) the interesting Brennan and Booth developments, though actually they were all Booth, because the show sort of forgets that his POV isn't the most important one. Quit it, show! Be about Brennan!

I watched House this week, which I never do, because Sasha Roiz was on, yay! He's so wonderful. But guess what, the opening shot was everyone looking at something on a computer only the camera was the computer. You know I love that shot! I first noticed it on Battlestar with Gaeta but now I'm seeing it more and more. You could write a whole dissertation on that shot, you guys. Look, they're looking into the computer or tv or other screen and we're looking at them through it. It's the fourth wall but we all accept the fiction that it isn't, both the actors and us. We accept the fiction of the show so much that we accept the fiction that they're not looking at us when they are. They're looking at some content on the screen between us.

That shot blows my mind. They play with a similar thing on Bones with Angela's giant hanging video/viewscreen. It's like a huge flatscreen tv but only the glass of it, so that we see her and others through it, and through the images they're seeing on it, in this case. And our POV can move around the screen to be on their side of it or see someone's face right through a gory image, so they're juxtaposed, or put people on opposite sides of a question visually. It's very cool.

What a strange episode. We got inside the skull of someone whose head we really don't want to be inside, but then she got inside someone else's head, and then Booth had to get inside his own head to figure out another thing. Yeah, thumbs down on the low Brennan quotient but thumbs up almost every other way.

Must go to bed! Aaaaaaah! Are you all excited about my low cost Future Dog purchases? I really am! I can't wait for Future Dog! Boy oh boy do I need to clean up this house first, not just in an untidyness sense (though very much that) but in the sense that you can't have baskets full of balls of yarn around, and so on. Lots of things need to get picked up and put up and put away. Oh the labor thereof. But at least I washed the dishes tonight. Hurray for incremental progress! Cautious rapture!

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Unconnected

Discontinuities:

1. Dream where my brother and I were having a gunfight with these other people and I kept shooting them very precisely through the forehead and killing them, and then I got shot in the upper right chest and woke up to find that exact section of lung was all glued up and was popping in multiple spots with each breath, making a sound like popping bubble wrap. But then I got up and took guaifenesin aka the metaphorical rubber cement thinner aka the drug you're never without when you have the chronic bronchitis. Also, apparently getting shot hurts! It was quite vivid, how I got all paralyzed with the shock and time slowed way down. But I didn't die or anything.

2. Discussion with awesome person about how Mommie Dearest is a laughable coloring book version of the real thing, including swapping horror stories and getting more and more hysterical about it all. Like, what's the worst thing you ever got hit with? What's the worst place you ever got locked into? Strangely entertaining!

3. Attack of the frakking M.S. though I'm hoping it's just brought on by over-exertion, right? It's like being quite drunk. And not in all bad ways, but you know, not all good ways, either. GO AWAY, this!

4. Extremely fun time toasting everyone last night for Burns Night with my thimbleful of Talisker and a bit of water. Lord is that good. I imagine it's far beyond my means, isn't it? I'll have to find out. Though since I live on raspberries and gorgonzola, why not add expensive scotch? Can I call my homemade bread "artisanal"? Hand made (except the part with the KitchenAid, i.e. all of it) in small batches in the Maine countryside! Oh right, toasting everyone. I highly recommend this! However I do not recommend doing it right after taking your anti-crazitude medication because, well, it's a bad idea. Apparently anti-crazitude medication = times a hundred for whatever alcohol goes with it! The toasts got more and more entertaining and the kitty enjoyed them very much.

5. It's also possible that the combination of those two things in #4 caused #3. I'm no good with alcohol anymore, which is why it was only a thimbleful, but consider the x100 magnification and it was effectively a giant bender that lasted four minutes but required the use of a cane the next day. Awesome.

6. Remember my beloved KXEC? I cannot even fathom how this occurred but I have another one, different but supremely awesome. And that's all I'll say about that.

7. I've started splitting the seams of these jeans but Mr. Kitty keeps needing to lie on them and interfere, as well as eating corn chips on them and leaving soggy bits everywhere. I guess the diet cat food is working because he scarfed down that whole corn chip. Usually he just bites them up and spits out the bits (very messy) but he ate this one. Also I'm sure he feels lighter. Do they make that for humans? Does it involve not having gjetost and horseradish cheese and gorgonzola? Then screw that!


8. Every time I start thinking about human diet kibble I realize I should just eat some popcorn. We like crunching and chewy things. In fact I'm pretty sure we're just in it for the crunching and chewing. A carrot makes me full the way mushy stuff does not. Also corn chips. Crunch crunch.

9. Reading Midnight is a Place for the umpteen millionth time. What a great book!

10. I absolutely WILL get these jeans wearable tonight. I will! I will!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Silent

I'm watching the State of the Nation address with the sound off. I know, I know. I can't cope with the applause. If I could have all that edited out, and also the smug/nasty expressions of the opposition, I might like it. I certainly do love seeing our beloved President. Is it my tv or does he look a little orange? It must be makeup because nobody else is that color. Probably he looked too pale. Oh Mr. President, get outside and get some fresh air and sunshine and stop working so hard! We need you healthy! The vitamin D will make you feel amazing, too.

I'm getting so I can't listen to political wrangling on the radio or anywhere. Someone pointed out I'm extremely averse to conflict and that's certainly true--and what is politics but conflict?

I tried to watch American football, too. See, am trying to assimilate, or something! But I couldn't make head nor tails out of it and they subbed out the whole entire team every other minute. Where is my character-based drama? Where are my wide shots so I can get the slightest idea what the shape of the game is? Humph. Though I did catch that they use one of the rugby rules, where a kick forward that bounces on the ground can only be picked up by the person who kicked it. Or something like that. It sounded similar to the rugby rule, anyway.

What's going on in your lives, internet beings? I'm busy sitting perfectly still and doing not much! Well, Online Job. That took ages. So whenever I say "not much" you have to insert "except for working an hour to several hours per day on my second job." Cough, cough.

Hey, I got Mr. Kitty diet cat food. Oh the shame! But he's got this big tummy. You should see the pointed looks he gives me when I mention it. Yes yes, glass house, horseradish cheese, I hear you Mr. Kitty! I will get right to work on that as soon as I have more energy than a wilted lettuce leaf.

When will that day come, I'd like to know? Come on now!

Jeez, Congress is freaky scary looking. The shellacked hairdos and the eerie uniformity.Ten million navy blue suits. I hope they don't give me nightmares but they probably will. People in suits (male and female) completely creep me out. Except for Steven Chu, secretary of energy, who is adorable. Hey, wide shot, there are all sorts of pink and green and bright red outfits and a man in a brown suit! Why aren't they showing those more?

Let's talk about food! I took bread and butter, apples, carrots, and kale for lunch. I only ate the bread and butter and one apple. Then in the afternoon I ate some peanuts and crystallized ginger. When I got home I ate the leftover stomachache pasta with some homemade sauce.

Ooh, my culinary tools buddy who borrowed my krumkake iron made all sorts of krumkaker this past weekend! Yay! I kept forgetting to bring it in to lend it to her. She's a pastry chef and loves that sort of thing and was alarmed that I'd never used it in all these years. And that's what inspired me to get the pasta maker off the shelf and give it a go. So I might lend the pasta making machinery to her this weekend. But she already told me I should have used semolina flour, because that's what you use, and it probably would give me way less of a stomachache because it would stretch and cook properly.

I'm excited to try the semolina thing, but there's that whole issue of finding unbrominated flour and all that. Oh the very large yawn. Some days, I swear I feel like I've been drugged. I mean, I have been drugged. I take the same things every day But some days I don't feel like I have. So what's up with that? Eh?

Who's the crab in the pink tie? Who's that guy behind the President who looks sort of like my brother-in-law? Please don't tell me it's the Vice-President but it probably is. I have been so UN-visual for so long here, no tv for years and now that I have it I don't watch news or politics or any of that. I don't know what the Vice-President looks like. Eek! Er, I mean, I assume an older white guy but that's to be expected.

I really feel that this whole thing could be better cast. Shouldn't Alan Alda be there somewhere?

I chipped and chopped and dug and hopefully got the mailbox good enough access so they will actually bring my mail tomorrow. Two days with no mail! Where are my W-2s? WANT! It was ridiculously hard work and nearly dark and let me tell you, you cannot tell snow from snow in the dark. You can't see horizontal versus vertical surfaces. You can't see anything but a bunch of white. The snowpiles at the end of the driveway are over my head. We're getting another ton of snow Thursday, too. Aaaaaaaaack.

People are starting to divide out into shovelers and everyone else, meaning they have plows or snow-blowers or hire someone to take care of it. We shovelers are bonding because the work is SO DAMN HARD and we're just physically drained and hollow-eyed. If it snows and you have a snow-blower, it's just a pain, but if you have to shovel, it's a massive physical effort that takes recovery time. It's going to HURT.

Incidentally I've shoveled every day since Saturday except yesterday. Which, okay, is a small number of days. But might contribute to the overall zombified malaise is what I'm saying.

I like how the Supreme Court justices don't stand up to clap like everyone else. Gravitas! They have it.

I am hating the malaise because I have a ton of stuff I want to do. Sew jeans! Make quilts! Knit things! Read books! I'm sort of in a Do Nothing zone though. (Again, except for my Online Job, which is not nothing at all.)  I hate the Do Nothing zone. Hate it!

Ooooooh, though....I thought up an awesome idea tonight. I can't remember what triggered it but all of a sudden it bloomed in my head the way they do and I could see how the pilot went and how it would generate episodes and all this amazing stuff. I think the dream section of my brain operates when I'm awake (and stupendously tired) sometimes and starts spinning these things out while I'm sitting there listening and watching all slack-jawed. And then I write it down as fast as I possibly can. Yay!

Small twin-engine plane just passed outrageously low overhead. I might call the airport tomorrow, seriously. There are power line pylons half a mile from here and a cell tower up the mountain a bit. Plus there's the MOUNTAIN which it would be ungood to hit. This is the standard landing path toward the airport but usually the planes stay up in the sky and don't detour through my attic so it's not usually so noticeable.

It's Burns night! Birthday of poet and namesake of my father and brother and various ancestors who were not named William, Robert Burns! I'm going to have some single malt scotch and call it a night. Here's to you!

Maybe it's time for a smoothie

Y'old smoothie. No, wait, the kind with the blueberries and the deliciousness. But cold is cold. Is there such a thing as a hot smoothie? Fruity, sweet, hot? Am I reinventing a beverage that is essentially pie filling? Mmm, pie filling. I mean, ack, wait, no!

Today it snowed and snowed and snowed all day long, for a net total of one fluffy inch. Nada! Except on top of the hard packed snow that's like ceramic, oh so slippery.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Intemperate

It is ONE degree outside. But it was minus twelve when I left for work this morning, so yay! Right? Damn it is cold in this house, too. I mean the heat's on but there's all this cold oozing in. Not so temperate now, huh? More like Arctic. The outdoors can easily kill you today. My fingers went numb inside thinsulate gloves when I was outside for six minutes filling the bird feeder. Brrr! Imagine how the birds must feel, huh?

I love that the rodentia tunneled up and out of the snow to eat fallen bird seeds. Pretty big tunnel, too.

Alarming: this morning I discovered that where the kitty's pie bed touches the plastic covering the window, all sorts of frost has formed inside the plastic, so between the plastic and the window. Like a whole snowball's worth. Dude!

I had to stay late due to crisis! at! work! which of course I sort of enjoyed because I get excited about practically everything in a way that annoys people sometimes. I'm aware of this. But that's how I'm wired! And isn't it a positive thing? I'm the one going, "Cool, something new and different!. Let's explore! And who's this? What are you drawing?" I know, huh? It generally turns out well. Wait...does it ever turn out badly? Only when people are like, "Gaah! Stop being so excited about stuff!" Therefore it's everyone else's fault if so, nyah. Plus I got to do all kinds of things I never, ever get to do and it was totally cool.

Right now I'm getting inordinately excited about toast. TOAST!!! It's made from the awesome bread I made yesterday when I wasn't here! I started it then went out and came home and OH SO GOOD.

See, this is a crucial thing I just relearned about bread...yesterday. You have to give it some time. Whoa! It gets infinitely better that way, see. Om nom nom.

I'm intemperate about food, it's true. I came home so hungry (see staying late, above) that I ate up all the horseradish cheese, but it was one of those skinny square sticks, not like a big honking chunk. Still. Slow down there! And two apples. Yum, apples.

Also I keep singing, "Working on my night cheese..." in the voice of Liz Lemon, my other favorite character on tv next to of course Brennan. Oh boy, 30 Rock! I hoard them and then watch them six or eight at a time. Yay! See, intemperate. It is a THEME.

Did you catch the e.e. cummings reference? I bet Jen did! I used to be so obsessive about his work. Can you imagine such a thing? Me? Heh.

Rhamphorhynchus, my aunt!

I'm more or less recovered from my manic work ethic episode, though I guess that was becoming apparent yesterday when I had to drag myself by the scruff of the neck and/or bootstraps to get anything done. But even so, I was like, "Okay, I have to leave at ten to five, so I have forty minutes. What can I get done in that time? Make the dog bed! Sweep the bathroom! Wash the wool socks! Sew those pinned side parts on the shirt! Watch some football game and try to grasp Americana! Time to go!"

I really did all those things in that time. And more. It's some kind of excellent overdrive. I like it. Except the part where I laid awake last night and then woke up at five freaking twenty in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep. Gaaaah!

They won't bring my mail because I forgot to dig out the mailbox yesterday. The mailbox itself is dug out, and enough of the plow wall around it so you can walk up to it, but you can't drive up. The nice Canadian mailman (hmmm) told me Saturday that Monday's mailman wouldn't be able to make it as it is, and he was certainly right. Or I didn't get any mail. Strange how often I don't get any mail when there's a lot of snow, though. I would go dig it out tonight except that it's a) dark and b) lethal out there.

I thought of a way to fix my too small jeans without being temperate about cheese, which in fact I probably only eat every two weeks or so! I'll open the side seams all the way down and sew in long strips of another fabric, maybe even some kind of pretty calico or something completely unexpected in black jeans. Cool and easy, right? I think I'll do it. All my other ideas were impractical and didn't solve the too-small-all-over-including-my-trim-ankles issue. They'll still be too short. But, boots!

Really I should just go buy more, I know it, but I have these and can't resist trying to make them work somehow. What is there to lose? If it sucks, I'll take the calico out and put it in a quilt. You know I'd do it, too.

Must go huddle by my beloved Radiator Serge and quilt things. And then fall asleep all of a sudden. Electric mattress pad weather if ever I saw it.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Glowy

Ah! Achievement. Partial, but good genug, as they say. Es genugt. Why does German look so alien to me these days? Weird. No, really, French looks perfectly logical and normal but German looks like a fake made-up language. No doubt it has to do with pre- and post- head trauma or something like that.

I still think it's amazing you couldn't see a big Battlestar Galactica image on my brain MRI. Like the shape of the ship, or something. "Hmm, I'm seeing unusual development in the Battlestar cortex here and here."

Hi!

The bread is loaven and rising. The laundry is drying. Maybe. Guess how well the dryer works in a room that has ice growing out of the floor and walls? Most importantly, the Online Job nouns are all verbed, thank goodness. It was extra noun week. Oh the humanity!

What's next? I'm strangely reluctant to make more pasta because what I ate yesterday still seems to be sitting like lead in my stomach, which isn't a kind thing to bring over to someone else's house. Hi, I brought you a stomach ache! Yummy!

Maybe I'll start more bread and bring them this loaf all nice and hot. Easy enough.

Oh heck. I just remembered that yesterday I didn't dig out the extra piece of driveway where I back in to turn around, because of how I was falling over and stuff. It'll only take ten minutes. But, brrr! On the plus side, it'll warm me right up. (Counterintuitive but true.)

I checked. The laundry got dry, and it's 39 degrees in the basement, and the aluminum dryer vent hose got all its comprehensive frost melted off into a wet patch on the floor. Oh heck. I wonder if the snow is up to the dryer vent? I saw steam blowing around out there.

Beh. Okay. Jeez, it takes so much effort to get moving today, I have to psych myself up eighteen times and then take a break to read Nightbirds on Nantucket, which of COURSE I own and found right on the Joan Aiken shelf where it belongs. Well, the Joan Aiken paperback shelf. I have a whole Joan Aiken hardcover shelf. She's so awesome. Fabulous heroines who cope with ridiculously overwhelming odds and chaotic circumstances with creativity and aplomb and rapier wit!

Plus Aunt Tribulation just told Dido to go hoe the potato field and Dido said, "Blister your potato field," which I hereby reserve for any and all occasions, in between Tourette's-ian outbursts of rhamphorhynchus. Rhamphorhynchus! It's like a one-word earworm! Much like splanchnic, until I sadly learned the ch isn't pronounced ch by doctors but as a hard k. Which I say is wrong and un-Greeky because if they used a chi they meant a chi, dang it. They'd have used a kappa if they wanted a kappa. Don't Latin my Greek. In which case I have to pronounce rhamphorhynchus differently but so it goes for consistency's sake.

FINE I'll go start more bread and then go shovel. FINE. GOSH. Bossy.

My usual Saturday morning was delayed!

But I am having it now. Phew!

With all the usual suspects: laundry! Don't wanna verb the nouns for Online Job! Baking the bread! Dishes to wash! The last of the bread is all stale! I dropped a half-eaten pear on my glasses! And so on. Okay, that last one is unusual, but what a mess, woo.

Boy I have a case of the don't wannas today. I'm digging in my heels such that there are deep grooves in the hardwood floor. That's going to cut into my security deposit, you bet.

It's bloody cold in here and I didn't turn the heat on until I was all frozen and shivery. Actually it's lethally cold outside, twelve degrees, which is fine, but with a wind chill that puts it at -40F, which incidentally is -40C, too. There are all these warnings. Don't go outside! You'll freeze solid and pieces will fall off! I'm taking them at their word.

Actually there is a cool ice phenomenon happening in the basement, fine hair-like tendrils of ice growing up through the floor. It's the same thing I saw out on the path in the woods. Hair ice, frost flowers, ice beard, needle ice, pipkraker, and so on. Capillary action, man!

It's ridiculously cold in the basement, in case that didn't clue you in. Getting the laundry out of the washer is exceedingly unpleasant.

Okay, I have to list good things or I'm never going to get out of negative neutral gear today:

1. a really good pear, mmm
2. oh! I mentioned how much I loved Silver Phoenix on Twitter and Cindy Pon saw it and wrote back! How cool is that? I totally loved that book. Plus I finished it and turned on the computer and saw that note like two seconds later which makes me so happy to live in the future. Hurray!
3. the bread is underway
4. the laundry is underway
5. it never takes as long to verb the nouns as I'm afraid it will
6. there's food in the fridge, so I should stop feeling like there isn't (weirdo)
7. there's even coffee, so maybe I should make some
8. at least none of the pipes have frozen yet! that's because the faucet in the tub leaks.
9. hey, if you're all sore and limpy after shoveling, maybe take some dang ibuprofin, huh? light bulb!

It's true, heavy exercise makes me feel absolutely terrible the next day, not just pummeled and sore all over but generally crappy. Unless I do it all the time and then it's fine. YES, I get the message. SIGH.

Oh, I should bring the bread dough in here to rise, where it's all of 62 instead of like 50 in the kitchen.

Yesterday when I was shoveling I thought, "I want to go hiking. But where is the closest place that's not hip deep in snow? North Carolina? Iceland? Which is closer?" I still haven't checked, because I'm afraid Iceland is closer and that's alarming.

2313 miles to Iceland

872 miles to North Carolina

But I'd rather go to Iceland for many reasons, good and bad, the most absurd of which is that I knew this guy from North Carolina and he was an unspeakable jackass and I knew this guy from Iceland and he was really, really nice, a terrific guy. So beware how you go, for I shall judge your state on your merits.

I don't like Alabama and Kentucky for the same reason. Ridiculous! Yet hard to argue with in my lizard brain. Maybe I just don't like men from south of the Mason-Dixon and east of the Mississippi, huh?

Wait, now I have to try to think of one that I like.................Okay, Lars, he's from Tennessee. There, I'm free of that particular prejudice, right? (They're all white in case you're wondering.) (Not that I had to clarify that with a guy named LARS.)

I still don't have a non-dog-et passport, though, so I can't go to Iceland to go hiking. Among other reasons, obviously. I bet they have good cheese, though. And many Larses. And skyr.

Hey! Shut up and go verb your nouns for Online Job, instead of blathering on the internet! Okay! Yes! On it!

Places I've been


visited 46 states (92%)
Create your own visited map of The United States


visited 6 states (46.1%)
Create your own visited map of Canada


visited 9 states (4%)
Create your own visited map of The World

How did I miss Alabama? That's the question that stays with me. Florida's sort of out of the way but Alabama is right there. Huh.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Love!

Except for the unexpected nap

Ha ha, I was stirring the sauce and then I was like, "I must lie down right now it is an emergency must lie down or I will totally die and stuff," and so I crawled into bed all in my turtleneck and long knit skirt and slept three hours, along with Mr. Kitty. He loves when I sleep in the daytime. Loves it! He won't sleep on the bed with me at night but during the day, it's like he's on guard duty and will NOT leave my side. Man I love that cat.

I guess the shoveling caught up with me.

And then I made pasta! You guys. It is SO EASY. I mean, it's not easy to do it well, but it's easy to do it at all, which means I'll get better and eventually will do it well. My last lump that went through the rollers was actually some good-looking linguine!

Basically the dough was too damp, which I should have realized would happen because it always does that with this flour. A bread recipe that calls for 4.5 cups needs 5.5-6. Or, obviously, less water. I keep the flour in a sealed plastic container but maybe Hannaford stores it in a high humidity room or who knows what.

So next time--which is tomorrow--I'll know. Yeah!

I'm waiting for the pasta to dry so I can EAT IT ALL UP YUM. Or, you know, some of it. The appalling spaghetti that needs conditioner, at least. I can save the good-looking linguine for tomorrow and take it to Stately Burns Manor, where I was supposed to go tonight except for the minor I was asleep issue.

Pasta = dough made of 500g flour plus 5 eggs. I don't know what that adds up to in American because the recipe came with the pasta roller/cutter thing, which my sister gave my dad but he never used it so my mom gave it to me in a general clearing-out. Which is how I got two ice cream makers also. Ahem. And I just used my scale which is marked in metric and that ounces thing. So anyway! Also with it was this cool spiral rack of horizontal plastic bars where you hang the pasta to dry. It's awesome because it's made to stagger them around in a rising spiral. It just does it! So cool!

So I stuck 500g flour and 5 room temp eggs (put out just before the epic nap) in the KitchenAid (sister's old one I might add--thanks, sister!) and turned it on and then I had dough. Whoa!

You let it dry an hour and then boil it in salted water 2-5 minutes (that is a large range, hmm) and then drain and eat it all up.

I am VERY excited, needless to say. That weird green bean noodle thing I tried a few weeks ago, or last week, or whatever? It didn't really work out. Let's just leave it at that. And every time I'm like, "Maybe I won't be allergic to spaghetti this time and can make sesame noodles!" I end up a hideous red moon faced rashy freak who frightens small children and large adults. Let's not do that, eh?

So the shoveling was wicked hard and I kept on nearly falling down with being worn out. Like when you're holding something heavy and you've held it too long and your arms go, "Aaaaaaah!" and eventually you just drop it no matter how much you don't want to? That happened to me all over to the point where I'd just collapse. I know! Must build up strength and endurance to levels higher than a piece of lettuce! I mean, it's just muscle fatigue. But, like, all over.

Considering I've been doing absolutely nothing except some very occasional shoveling for about two months, I've been asking for it, jeez. GET GOING. Slacker! Must remember: sedentary job is sedentary. Maybe I have to institute lunchtime walks. Bring some sweatpants to switch into and get going. Also some sun and vitamin D would do me good.

Gaaaaah! Vehement face! Hup hup!

In sum:

What a day!

Hard

Shoveling all that snow is insanely hard work. Holy cow. I got the section near the house done, and dug out the plow wall, which is by far the hardest part. It was elbow high and triangular, right? So about eight feet wide at the bottom, tapering up to a point. And hard and crusty. I also tried to dig out the mailbox--the snow is OVER the mailbox--so the truck can get close enough. But I kind of got all wobbly and falling-down-y and came inside for a break.

Really, the hardest part is done, right? Keep telling me that. Especially since it's going to snow again Wednesday.

Some people were out for a walk. I got all chagrined because I'm dressed like other brother Daryl with the stocking cap sticking up and drooping over and my face is maroon and my sweater smells like a wet dog and I'm gasping and wheezing.

Isn't it rare to see regular people out and about doing hard physical labor? Where else do you see that? Raking and mowing aren't that hard. Digging the garden? Moving furniture? At the gym? I guess at the gym is most common. Or out running or biking or cross-country skiing, come to think of it. It's funny how everyone seems so embarrassed to see someone working hard at shoveling snow. Like, avert your eyes.

I'm all smug and happy right now because I made tea before I went out, so it's the perfect temperature now. Yay!

Friday, January 21, 2011

Sit! Stay!

Addressed to self, not Future Dog.

Doesn't that make it sound like my dog-to-be is some sort of space-age creature possessed of awesome powers? Let's hope so! Except destruction. Skip the destruction, Future Dog!

I did way too much today. I was full of snowpocalypse energy! Rush rush rush! Go go go! I did oh so very many things. Also I ate many delicious items. I feel lists coming on...

The list of deliciousness:
raspberries and Greek yogurt for breakfast. HEAVEN
tea
tea
more tea
buttered toast, a whole gorgeous red pepper, and horseradish cheese for lunch
tea
tea
mmm, tea
hot garlic butter popcorn with cayenne and nutritional yeast, oh yeah!
some of those chocolate sandwich cookies I made, with weird improvised peanut butter filling. YUM
orange juice

Pretty great, huh? I hope the days of gruel are permanently behind us.

And I did oh so many things. Such as:

1. raced around tidying up and putting away
2. did the laundry
3. shoveled a path up the driveway so I could check the mail
4. put the Christmas ornaments and sundry boxes in the attic
5. tidied up the garage
6. ShopVac-ed the garage lake until the ice floes clogged up the hose
7. check the mail in a snowstorm (none)
8. hung two brackets and suspended my ancient Ikea lamps from them so now I can have light where I sit, imagine! (on the couch and on the glider in my room)
9. built two shelves in that idiotic closet where the vacuum lives. They're the kind with a board that rests on pieces of molding nailed to the wall. Skil saw!
10. washed the dishes
11. opened up 7 inches of side seam on that one long shirt so I can wear it without looking absurd
12. shrink-wrapped the inside of the bedroom windows FINALLY (though the wrapped screens are just as effective--but double is better)
13. cast on a pair of those mittens for me
14. found some shirt fabric in a fez so I can make, you know, shirts, from that scrubs top pattern with the 1920s flat collar Brooke talked about where you sort of make the facing on the outside. Yeah!
15. got a camping pad down from the attic and thoroughly scrubbed it to remove all trace of rodent/bat poo so I can make a dog bed. Several, actually. Also I'm planning quilts for the dog beds. Dogs love quilts!

Now I'm reading Black Hearts in Battersea. Hurray! Nightbirds on Nantucket was one of my first big favorite books. I mean I liked all the Betsy and Little House and all but Dido Twite was right up there with Ramona Quimby as a favorite and I loved how outrageous and over the top the Dido Twite stories were. Hurray!

So take note, literary historians of the future. Ha!

I'm so psyched I still get to have a weekend after all that. I'll need it to recover, but also to shovel that FOOT of snow and then to recover from that. Oh my golly.

Hey, did I tell you the awesome conclusion to the stupid drug packaging saga? I asked the boy at Walmart if I could get it without the idiotic packaging and then I showed him the bubble foil thing with the two weeks that have EIGHT DAYS in them and he agreed it was the dumbest packaging he'd ever seen. And then he got me an empty bottle *with a duplicate label for my meds* so I could pop all the pills out of the bubbles and throw away the packaging right away. He even remembered to use a not-childproof lid. Yay!

I have to write a letter to the Walmart pharmacy and praise Josh the intern eighteen ways from Sunday because that was just freaking awesome of him to do all that.

I had thought of using an old pill bottle and popping them into there, but you just don't do that. You don't put prescription drugs into any container other than their official labeled one. I really really don't do that. Pharmacists, it turns out, are equally vehement about such things.

I wonder if I can get this much done every day if I get up like it's a work day, like I did today? Goodness gracious, the productivity!

My very favorite is the hanging lamps. See, I've had these very simple lamps since I got them at Ikea up in Washington state back when I lived in Oregon. (No Ikea in Oregon, at least not then, and I'd guess not now either. Just like Maine. Ikealess!) They're just flattish metal cones with a hole in the middle. You put the cord and socket up to the cone/shade and screw it on with a plastic piece. You hang the lamp from its cord--the lamp really just IS a cord--using these cool plastic thingies, and you're good to go.

Except I have the cottage cheese ceiling here so I couldn't put a hook in it. Thwarted! Until I thought of using long shelf brackets. I found some at Walmart when I was getting my prescriptions and voila!

The pleasure of having light above my head and shining on my book and my knitting both while I'm sitting on the couch is just mind-boggling.

I really wonder whether all the trouble I was having with my eyes going bananacakes had to do with doing that insanely complicated knitting from a graph in dark blue and black yarn in tiny gauge with insufficient light. Heh. Maybe so, huh? Well, now that I'm knitting the same thing again, we can see if the trouble recurs.

Who knows what I might get done tomorrow? Yippee! I do have exciting cooking things to do, making pasta from scratch and making marmalade. Probably not both in the same day but who knows?

Two wonderful days in one week. What is the world coming to, I ask you!

I am going to SLEEP. All this snowy excitement and cheerful engagement and outrageous activity has done me in. Oooh, I hear the plow out there. How high will the wall across my driveway be this time? Tomorrow should be interesting!

Es schneit a whole bunch viel

Well it's embarrassing to say it hasn't really started snowmageddoning, with only three inches down, but the confident prediction all across the board is 14 inches today. And the regional radar is hilariously doom-laden because this enormous storm is bearing down upon me EVEN AS WE SPEAK. Just the very edge is crossing my town!

I ran out to check the mail before all snowy hell breaks loose, forgetting that it's early and the mail isn't here yet. Ha!

But I did shovel away the most recent plow wall. The one last night was hard as rocks. Great big stiff light hard snow boulders. I could pry them loose and hurl them away even though they were huge, which made me feel like some kind of Captain Kirk figure with the styrofoam boulders.

It's LOVELY to have the Nordictrack back in an accessible area. Cold? Hop on it! Stressed out? Hop on it! Making tea? Have a stint! I love that thing. I'm such a fan. I'd go ski in the real world but do you know how well that works on a yard of snow? NOT VERY. The skis sink down into it and you're still plowing through all that snow, only with giant unwieldy slippery feet. It just has disaster written all over it.

Though tomorrow I might go down to the golf course. They say they have cross-country skiing, which should mean they groom the trails. Hurray! Or there are the snowmobile trails half a mile away, but they're steep and full of rocks. And also snowmobilers, not famous for looking where they're going, and moving FAST.

Golf course it is.

Today I'm solving all these problems that shouldn't have been problems in the first place. Like, paying car insurance. Mailing it off, so tense! Have to wait until paid, then hope it gets there in time? Well, no, you can pay it online through my bank, like I pay every other bill, duh. Can't believe it took me all this time to figure it out.

I got food last night, on the theory I wouldn't be going out again until Monday, which might still be true, we'll see. But point being: I have oranges to make marmalade! Oh boy! I've been jamless for ages.

These are the stages of jam:

1.chop chop chop, get all sticky, get sore hands

2. boil boil boil, get burned by flying lava bombs, get crazy steamy hair, float on a cloud of bliss from the cooking jam smell

3. can can can, boil the jars, fill the jars, seal the jars, make a giant sticky mess as the jam tries its best to get everywhere it possibly can, including on your socks, in the cat food bowl, and inevitably in your hair

4. now we have jam! yay! put jam on things! put it on bread! put it in yogurt! put it on cheese! yay! jam!

Sometimes there's an extra step in there where you realize there aren't enough jars and have to drive out to Aubuchon's to buy more, all sticky and wild-eyed and with jam in unlikely places but at the very least on your shirt. They're used to it, though. They sold me my canner! And the funky jar lifter I somehow did without my whole life, previously using my grandmother's ancient tongs. Cool!

Hey, want to know a cool slash eerie thing? I picked up my breadboard that used to be my grandmother's and looked at all the cuts on it. They're all lower right to upper left, as you'd expect from someone who cuts right-handed. I turned it around and realized it would be the same even from the other side. Same angle. And then I tilted it so the light hit it at a shallower angle and I could see all of the older cuts from lower left to upper right! Because my grandmother was left-handed, see. Isn't that cool?

I would say barely a day ever goes by when I don't use something of hers, from pans to pots to dutch oven to saucepans to cutting board to tons of kitchen utensils, plus the sewing machine and sewing table and washstand and on and on. So it was cool to see her actual imprint on something.

Now the snow is really putting its back into it! That's more like it! I was feeling like kind of a weenie for staying home then only having 3 inches out there. (Though truthfully the roads are a huge mess.)

The snow's so high on the deck, the cat has resorted to sitting on the blue trunk to see out over it. Which was partly my plan, because cats should be able to see out. So muahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Snow!

I really hope it's 14 inches, just because it would be awesome and I don't have to be anywhere for days. Let's see, 14 inches on top of the 36+ that's already out there....maybe I should haul the tree away right now. Where are my rain pants? I really need snow pants for the walking of Future Dog. I'm going to get some of those giant overall kind at Marden's one of these days. Then Future Dog will see me putting on my snow pants and start jumping around and get all excited. Yay! Future Dog and I will have to get up early in the morning to go for a walk before shower and work and all that. It makes me sleepy just thinking about it but the infinitely increased utter glory of life with Future Dog will make up for everything, I know. DOG!!!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Avocado

Yes I have eaten the avocado of deliciousness, as well as the blue corn chips of blueness, oh and some kale. Dinner of champions! I realize I could have guacamolified the avocado but it was so good on its own.

Yes yes yes, I'm guilty of eating solitary items again! Gosh! Sheesh! You know my friend D. pointed out this very week that I've been doing that forever and ever. She noticed it in 1985, you guys. It's a thing! I do try to make things out of other things but I really do like the solitary things a whole lot.

Anyway doesn't it count that I scooped up the avocado with the blue corn chips? No?

Today I'm all thrilled to report that I was able to download W-2s from all employment and unemployment last year! How cool is that? I LOVE that they make this stuff available to you online so you can file your taxes early. Not that I did. I watched Bones reruns. Who do you think you're dealing with, here?

So I have to get up stoopidly early tomorrow to shovel and then get to work as early as 7 if I can. I've also been cleared for the option of not showing up at all. The snow is supposed to be completely ridiculous. 8-14 inches last I heard. They have already closed most of the schools etc. (and most of my workplace) before a single flake has fallen in the state of Maine, so I guess I wanted to check on it preemptively, see.

In sum, it may or may not snow as much as they think, or when they think, and I may or may not go to work depending on the degree of apocalypticality of snow. I would LIKE to go. I like being there and they pay me money and stuff. Win! But I'm not going to take my life in my hands in a foot of snow when I'd get to stay at most a half a day. I mean, seriously. Math, risk assessment, fear and trembling, and so on. We shall see.

What will happen is it'll be reasonable when it's time to go to work but then will become unreasonable while I"m there.

Incidentally, I can't bear meat anymore. What's with that? It looks good, it smells good, but then I'm like, "Ew." Quite bizarre.

But you know what's amazing? BERRIES. Do you have $3.00? Then you can have raspberries! I know! Raspberries are just about the best thing ever! Also blueberries! Also blackberries! Also cherries! Also strawberries though not as much since they can be all hard and unsweet! But when they're good, oh so good!

Mmm, berries. Greek yogurt is also exceedingly fabulous. And kale. And the avocado, delectable!

I have exciting plans to try to make noodles this weekend. Making fresh pasta should be interesting, no?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Gosh!

I have to go in a minute and take the kale out of the freezer. It's just cooling down after getting steamed. Yes, I bothered it and it got all steamed at me! I said, "Time out, kale!" and put it in the freezer. TRUE STORY. Except for the facts.

Even though I just wrote that, when the timer beeped, I went into the kitchen and opened the microwave. Sigh!

Kale: rescued. Okay!

Actually I have to go to sleep soon. Oh the epic sleeping! I can never wake up in the morning, which is inconvenient for the going to work. Well, I mean, I get there, and nearly always on time or early, but still!

There's this crazy snow sandstorm outside. It's snowing tiny pellets which blow around and sound like I'm in a ship at sea, only the waves washing against the porthole are sand. Or possibly sugar. Smaller than sand. Salt? It's especially loud against the plastic over the screens. Whisssssh!

I used most of one of my Christmas gift cards for necessities today. See...it's the nicest gift, because I can use it for exactly what I need, but the thing is, I have to use it for things like cat litter and toothpaste, which somehow feels like not getting any present at all, do you know what I mean? Do others feel this way? I think I would give people bookstore gift cards or iTunes if they're of a certain mindset, or Netflix, or I guess what I'm saying is something that won't turn into cat food and shampoo.

I have complex emotions about the holidays.

Anyway I took down my Christmas tree yesterday because it was just starting the drop all your needles phase. I stuck it in a snowbank but it tilted over during the night to about a 50 degree angle. When I took it down I noticed that one knotted spot on one branch had burst out with a million new branches that were all bursting forth with new growth, little bunches of fresh green needles, which I thought was so cool until I realized it was totally tree cancer, that kind of sudden uncontrollable growth. So I didn't save that branch in a vase after all. Yikes!

But the upshot is that my living room is much more user-friendly now. I could kickbox if I wanted! I can definitely get on the Nordictrack again, for which, hurray! I am all hot to get a recumbent stationary bike, too, for real. I love those so much.


Today I took a coupon out of my wallet that expired in May 2009. Whoa! I feel like that's emblematic of something or other. Objective correlative! Save something long past the point when it would have been good to use it! Which is actually why I cooked the kale, even though I am not eating it tonight--because it was wilting and I hoard food sometimes past the point of sensibility.

Kitty's all stretched out odalisque-like on the couch, but I'm in the comfy chair under the quilt of utter coziness. He was underneath it before, in the cave formed by the quilt falling down on both sides of my legs. Isn't that the coziest spot imaginable? Until I stepped on him. Whoops! Didn't know he was there!

I haven't finished the purple quilt, but jeez, when? I have a lot of comatose sitting around to do, you know! No, actually I've also been lying around on the couch odalisque-like (odalisquesque!) reading and typing lots of words and staring at the ceiling all unfocused and thinking thinking thinking. Plus dealing with the tree and all. And washing acres of dishes tonight. Jeez! So many! And other sundry activities.

I have NOT been shoveling lately. Since, what, the weekend? We got a bunch of snow but it sort of squished down from melting and rain before I got around to shoveling it. Now it's nice and crispy on top, which lets the sugar snow blow around really well. Goodness, it's smoothly mounded out there. Knee high in the yard, elbow high in the snowpiles from where I've shoveled the driveway, two or three inches high on the driveway. Remember at my old house where I actually had trouble shoveling because the walls of snow got too high for me to throw the snow on top? Yumping yiminy.

I just took that pill. Did I ever tell you how annoying the packaging for the anti-crazy pills is? It's a flat pack and the pills are in little bubbles so you push them through the foil. Right. Except they're in four rows, labeled week one, week two, etc. Which is fine. Except each bubble is marked with the day of the week, starting with Sunday.

Okay. How many people will start this regimen on a Sunday? Truly. It's a prescription, which means it was prescribed, which means during a week day, which means you'll start during the week or on a Saturday at the latest. So basically NEVER.

But it gets better! Weeks three and four have EIGHT PILLS. The eighth one on week three says "Order more!" And the eighth pill on week four says....I swear I am not making this up...."LAST PILL." But those weeks still have Sunday through Saturday even though those rows have eight pills. They just added an extra one on the end. So between Saturday and Sunday there's another day's dose.

It also came in a hard blue plastic case that you're supposed to slide the flat pack out of each day--except not all the way out, it stays attached--and then slide it back in. Obviously I cut it out of that immediately. But there was no cure for the stupid pill bubbles or the incredibly dumb weeks with eight days in them. SERIOUSLY. That makes my head explode.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, LAST PILL. Because you get 30 per prescription, see. So two weeks have to have eight days or it won't come out even....wait....gaaaaaaaaaah!

How about this? Just number them.

Or: do what I did. Take a sharpie and write the date on each one. I did that partly to cover up the days they had on there, and partly so I'd know if I forgot one, or forgot that I'd taken one. Actually useful!

And that is the saga of the medication and its annoying packaging. Maybe it's a sophisticated test! Maybe you know it's working if you don't care about the idiotic labeling!

Ooooh, it's later than I'd like. Tiredness ensues.

I have to tell you about the luscious lunch of apples and gorgonzola that I had today. See, you leave the gorgonzola out and it gets soft, and then you cut the apples into quarters and sort of spread the cheese on the insides. YUM. Did you know some people don't like gorgonzola? Can you imagine such a thing? Of course I used to hate blue cheese and even the smell of coffee made me ill and now of course both are perfectly fine. So clearly those people are simply less evolved. QED.

So anyway there's kale and a baked potato tomorrow. Clearly it's Scottish soul food. Must make oatcakes! Must cook barley! Mmm, lamb.

Every so often I get out A History of Pagan Europe and read it obsessively, or The Long-Haired Kings, or Rites and Religions of the Anglo-Saxons, or Conquest: The Roman Conquest of Britain. Or any of the other two dozen books on that time period, from say 1500 BC to 1500 AD.

I was so intrigued to find out that the people in Australia who were there before white people showed up also make string skirts. Doesn't that vibrate your brainbox? Don't you think that people all over made them only most stopped? Do you think grass skirts are related or are exactly the same thing out of different materials?

Right! Sleeping. I shall dither at you another time!

Monday, January 17, 2011

Seventeen? Something like that.

Apparently when you sleep 17 hours out of 24 (in a row) that's too many, or something. I don't know, yawn, what were we talking about? It took two cups of coffee and four cups of tea before I could remotely keep my eyes open today. But fortunately my kidneys are killing me so that helped keep me awake.

In lucid moments I started trying to figure out what's up. The kidney thing is from sleeping too long, which means not drinking water all that time, obviously. What with how I was asleep.

The sleeping thing probably means the anti-bananacakes meds finally kicked in. I've been informed that I'm "extremely sensitive" to them. Really? You think?

Pass me that glass of water, would you? I'm too sleepy to go get it.

I tried reading up on boring chronic fatigue whatever but my eyes kept watering when I yawned so much. But the gist seems to be it doesn't exist and can't be diagnosed or cured but like five out of every thousand people have it and also it's real, except for if you don't believe in it. Like Tinker Bell!

I'm sorry if this sounds all hard line but what the hell is up with these imaginary diseases that don't exist? If you can't test for it or diagnose it reliably and there's no cure for it, I think that means it doesn't exist. It means something else is going on. Basically I'm a skeptic about these weird imaginary diseases. What the what, people?

SO ANYWAY.

There's a giant ice storm coming, holy crap! Or not. Seven inches of snow, they say, and then a whole raining sleeting freezing rain thing that should knock down trees and power lines and all.

A huge branch fell off one of my trees into the dirt road, but since no one uses that road but the landlord and his various family members, I guess they took care of it. Except, get this: they flung it into my lawn. Why not fling it into the woods on the other side of the road?

Speaking of which, the Christmas tree has started getting crunchy, which means it's time to un-decorate it and haul it through the knee high snow into the woods. I'll do that as soon as I'm vertical again. I kind of like typing lying down with the laptop propped against my leg and balanced against my tummy.

Hey, I watched Sherlock Holmes, did I say? There was an odd thing, which is that the previews were not optional. Since when are previews not skippable? Funnily enough, I worked with the people who came up with this at this DVD's studio, you know, and I can totally see the meetings now.

The funny thing is, now I absolutely have to see Invictus, which a) is about Nelson Mandela, b) stars my man Matt Damon, and c) is totally all about rugby. And looks all fabulously uplifting and all that good stuff. Yay!

Matt Damon! He's the movie star of me. I mean, I am your demographic, Matt Damon!

Did you watch the Golden Globes? He was there, see, and I was all, "Yay! It's MY movie star!" And then I was like, "Self, what are you even talking about?" And then I had to explain to myself how he's the one who's around my age and has been all along (WORLDS of DUH) and is the most relatable and all that.

It was fun to watch the Golden Globes. It made me want to be all thin and pretty, though. Honestly, there are more valuable aspirations in the world. Also I could only drink water for the I-have-met-you drinking game. Drink! I think there were only three, all boys. But now I can't think who the third one was. Because being this tired all the time is very like being six sheets to the wind.

Man, I could really use some cheese right now. Mmmm, cheese. Gorgonzola and apple for dinner yesterday. BOY do I love gorgonzola. And cherries! That was a good dinner. And then baked bread and had fresh hot bread with cold butter, the best thing ever. Holy yum.

Oh, I think the third one was Dempsey, which is cheating because we didn't actually meet, just interacted via waves from vehicles on the street. Does that count? Maybe.

Cannot stop yawning. I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and see what she says. I suspect the 17 hour thing will alarm her. Also the kidney thing.

I'm going to try to roust myself off this comfy comfy couch and drink a bunch of water, eat some cheese,  un-decorate the tree, and (in an ideal world) quilt the center squares of the nine-patches so I can put a binding on this purple quilt and be done with it. Done! Done is so very good.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Mmmmm

Ridiculously peaceful day. It's awesome.

Accomplished:

sleep a lotfeed the cat
go back to bed, why the hell not?
do nothing
eat toast
have a shower
shovel 1.3 inches of light, fluffy snow
bake bread
watch Sherlock Holmes (the movie)
read a book
play spider solitaire
loll on the couch
read a yarn catalog
watch the Golden Globes
snuggle the cat
eat some cherries
eat some gorgonzola
relax in the comfy chair

I don't know what I did to earn a day like today, but it must have been something really good.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Oh, hi!

What a busy day, eh? I had to go to the post office and everything. I mailed TWO things. I had a whole batch of stuff to mail to Wisconsin but forgot until I got home. Whoops! Next time.

I wish I could tell you the thing and then we could get all excited about it together. Rest assured I'm thinking about it all the dang time and researching and making plans and thinking and all kinds of fun stuff. As one does! I can't say though. When I can, I will. Maybe next week.

Today, I cooked a squash. Butternut. Then I ate some. Mmm, squash! Also made brown rice, in case you're keeping track. The food log certainly is. Sometimes I just have to take a day off from it because the math eludes me. Those spicy peanut sesame noodles? I could not begin to guess.

But then I eat things like a whole gorgeous red bell pepper (SO GOOD) and enter it in and the thing is like, 28 calories or something, and then I feel ridiculous.

Also, they only had one fez of that Greek yogurt at the store today. Must get more! Must get more now! I'm going to need a twelve-step program if I ever decide I need to get off that yogurt. Which I won't because why? It's so good! How can anything that good be bad? Shut up! Get out of here with your anti-yogurt sentiments! Oh, yum.

But I might try to make myself eat some oatmeal for breakfast once in a while. Sniffle. Sob.

Maybe not.

Anyway it's time to quilt, but I'm all torn because I went for a walk around the field, idiotically--because the snow is knee high. Do you know how hard it is to walk through knee high snow? You have to lift your foot that high with every step, for one. And slog each foot into and out of the mass of snow. Anyway it was all wildly aerobic and I got back to the house wheezing asthmatically and soaked from the knee down. The snow got all down inside my motorcycle boots and packed around my ankles and it was just absurd. Absurd!

Something dug up my frozen Christmas potato from the compost and has been chewing on it. And the cantaloupe shells, oddly enough. Would that be your first choice? I guess they're longing for fruit and veg.

So anyway, want to quilt, but I'm still damp to the knees and if I'm going to change, I'm having a hot bath, man. Mmmm, bath. But it's also dinner time. Popcorn! With garlic! And butter! And garlic butter! And cayenne and salt! Oh yeah, so good.

I really got a huge amount done today. All the laundry and all the massive weekly big block of Online Job that always happens on a Saturday. Post office and grocery store. Oh and I went to the dollar store looking for those bunny clips but instead found little Christmas stockings on clearance for 5 cents each. They're like 2.5 x 5 inches. I got four. I have no idea why I thought I needed them. And a Santa hat that was 20 cents. Again, why? Unknown.

Okay, so dry garments, popcorn, then moment of truth with the sewing machine. We'll see if it, you know, sews. Come on, machine! Work! You must work! Work properly! Sew straight lines of sewing with no weirdness at all! Okay!

Because, mmmmmmm, quilts. I can't even tell you how strong the quilting urge is right now. Must! Make! Quilts!

I'm nearly done with The Dead-Tossed Waves. I like how the zombies are in that book. I find zombies extremely stupid in general since they don't seem to make any sense as functioning beings, with the eating and drinking and whatever. They make even less sense than vampires, who at least drink blood and therefore have some kind of metabolism, know what I mean? These zombies are dumb too, because they live forever (come on!) and they don't eat (I am not on board with this) but they do have the unstoppable urge to bite people. Except they don't eat them, see. They just bite them, which infects the new person with the virus.

Really, people, think through these things. Put some effort into it.

THAT SAID, The Dead-Tossed Waves is pretty good because the author understands motivation very well and writes characters well and really gets inside the heads of the characters. Like! But I'm hyper to start these new Pratchetts I brought home from the library. More of those small blue people and Tiffany Aching, see. I am still blinded by the awesomeness of Wintersmith and looking for more. More! More!

My Maine cousin is reading TR right now. She says the nicest things! Like that she's on the edge of her seat and can't stop turning pages. Yay! Love that book! Thanks, cousin W!

Hey, did you see Elana started a new bloggery? MUCH better name! Yay! Elana is awesome.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Need inertial dampener! Stat!

Or the opposite. Wait. Need booster rockets! Need maneuvering thrusters!

I'm having an inertia problem is all. Actually I'm not entirely convinced it's not just a case of The Tireds. I am the tired! Go get some sleep! Okay, I the will!

I'm mystified by the whole not going to sleep as early as possible issue. Hey, it's quarter to nine. Remember how hard it is to get up after only eight hours. So go to bed now and get a whole bunch of sleep, daft loon. But instead I want to hang out watching Bones reruns and playing solitaire! The fancy kind! Madness.

I mean, at least knit a Jayne hat or make a quilt. Though I did at least wash all the dishes and make sesame noodles. OH SO GOOD.

There's a lot of kitty snuggling going on. Snuggle Mr. Kitty!

Man, I really want one of those clear plastic aprons they wear on Bones. Every time I wash the dishes, I get my shirt all wet. And then, wet shirt! Dang! Maybe I'll get plastic fabric and make one. Maybe I'll get a shower curtain and make one. Maybe I'll find one that already exists!

I'm so incredibly cheap these days, did you know? It's a side effect or lasting consequence of broke-ness. I'm so cheap I don't even want to purchase essentials such as food! It's true. I've been eating bread and butter for lunch. It's my bread and butter! I put it next to my cup of tea! Everything is so fraught with metaphor!

So anyway, I'm on a mission to go to the store and actually purchase foodstuffs tomorrow, as well as cat food and cat litter.

Also, my cat Siegfried just turned nine, not eight. I am not that good at math.

Maybe if I can just catch up on sleep, I won't be so tired. It's crazy but it just might work.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Weather drama, man!

I'm in one of those states of happy stupor post-shoveling. Oof! Nine inches. I had to do it in two bouts. Shoveling is effortful, man.

Okay, what's up with brown? For the past few days I've come home from work and changed into all brown clothes. Who even knew I had this many brown clothes? Brown t-shirt! Brown pajama pants! Brown leggings! Brown sweater! Brown socks! I've also been wearing brown skirts and tights to work! And a brown cardigan!

I'm feeling a little compulsive, I guess. Imagine!

Today I got fantastic news but it's SEKRIT and I'm actually not allowed to tell. But it's awesome for me from summer on. Oh, it doesn't have to do with books or anything like that. Sorry. I'd tell you but didn't you read the part about how it's SEKRIT? Not my secret.

Dum de dum! La la la. Whistling innocently.

Really, exercise completely mellows out my brain, doesn't it? I came in and ate seven slices of provolone (duly noted in food log) and then a bowl of rice (the food analysis thing is always on my case about not eating enough carbs, FOR REAL) and then of course zonked out on the couch all glazed over with kitty sleeping against my leg and watched some Bones episodes. Because that is what I do!

It was that excellent episode with the con man in the meth lab (called, I believe, The Con Man in the Meth Lab) which features Booth chasing a bad guy's car on foot and pumping it full of huge gauge shotgun shells. Then the bad guy mysteriously gets a tiny spot of blood on his back! Or even two. Except with that shotgun, from that range, he'd have a hole big enough to put a grapefruit through. Gory is only allowed with the gross corpses on this show, not with alive people getting hurt! Thank goodness. Nobody needs to see that. But the tiny spots of blood made me snort. I did. I went, "Snort!"

I love that episode even though it features stupid Jared. I can't even look at him. Ugh! But it also features Booth's birthday and that thing with the bus shelter and the cake and OH MY GOSH I love Booth and Bones as best friends so much! SO MUCH!

Is anyone else as tired as I am? I feel like everyone should be tired. That's how tired I am. Yep!

Today I wore my newly reconstructed paisley twirly skirt. Or whatever you call them when they're not straight. Sort of A-line? In any case it's not the same general shape as me but has a flared hem, which I find very disconcerting since I've been wearing the non-breezy ones for so long. So I kept thinking it was tucked into my tights or hoicking itself up or who knows what. But nope! That skirt looks awesome. I looked in the mirror this morning and went all wide-eyed at how good the whole ensemble looked.

Part of that is: no sleeves! It's ungodly hot at work so I've decided to wear sleeveless tops under my light cardigan or unbuttoned long shirt. Much cooler! Also surprisingly less bulky. Down with sleeves. The other part is: tights! Not leggings! It's amazing how it looks like a person has lost considerable weight when just switching from bulky cotton leggings to tights. Hmm!

Also there seems to be less of me in general, which always looks good in some hard to pin down way.

So anyway. I shoveled all the snow in my cute twirly skirt and no kind Galahad stopped to offer to plow the driveway for me. (Goodness, that sounded off-color! Unintentional, I assure you!) Ooh, I'm still kicking myself for not letting that nice guy (and his kid) plow the snow the last time. Oooh, grrr.

Then the street plow filled in the end of the driveway minutes after I got inside. AS USUAL. But the car drove in through a big plow wall two feet high and over the nine inches of snow, yay car! The snow is so high that the underneath of the car scraped off the top of it. Yowza. The roads were terrible. Kind of slithery. And on the flat area by the pond it was impossible to tell where the road was, between the blinding blowing snow and the lack of plowing. But I managed to stay on pavement, phew.

SO MUCH DRAMA.

I'm kind of not planning to get up and shovel whatever else falls tonight. You know they said 3-6 inches total and we already had 9 by 4:00 and more was still coming down. But the heat is on! I am all cozy and warm! In my brown sweater.

I asked the cat why there weren't any brown cats. He looked thoughtful. But I don't think he actually knows.

Yesterday I went to help out the sister-in-law while the brother went to do some local politics thing he's involved in. The baby was all squirmy and screamy and did this for hours: YELL YELL YELL YELL YELL YELL YELL. But I got to play with little niece and we ate dinner together and then watched Aladdin (is it called that? she calls it Jasmine) with a constant Q and A.

How do you explain why they made the bad guy into a genie and shut him in a lamp? Because he was mean and kept on doing bad stuff? How do you even explain *that* they made the bad guy into a genie and shut him into the lamp? She did not quite follow and I don't blame her. It's quite a cognitive leap. He was really bad, and now he's a genie, but we liked the first genie, so why is that a punishment? I'm on your side with this one, kid.

Niece is awesome because she'll be eating yogurt and then turn to me and say, "I like you!" Yay! I said, "I like you, too!" Because I do. She's a cool kid. Even if she does deny that my hair is red. I tried to explain auburn but she wasn't buying it.

Also we got to read that fabulous Dr. Seuss story about the scary pale green pants. Do you know that one? SO SCARY!



Except the pale green pants were really just as scared! And then they became friends. (Spoilers!)



I always thought they were leggings, to be perfectly honest. 

Dang it, there's another two inches out there on the ground. You realize that makes eleven. Eleven! That's a lot! Not as bad as the day we got sixteen, though. Don't try to beat the record, weather! You are doing just fine.

Sleepy. In fact I'm going to sleep as soon as I get to talk to D. I got up early to shovel and then it didn't start snowing until like 9:30, harumph! I'm all zoned out and stoned-seeming due to tiredosity and exercise. Dude!