Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Tick tick cope cope

Yes I'm a-coping! Rah, rah! Go me!

1. Emailed the foster/adoption people to donate my dresser and bookcases. They're working on matching me up with people who need them. They do this all the time, send out email requests for toddler beds or whatever, or post available donations. Good cause!

2. Found the women's shelter where I can donate all those clothes that I don't need. Yay! My brother has a bunch of baby stuff to go, too, but he figures they'd rather have me drop it off. I'm sure that's true. Scruffy guys in camo are not usually favored visitors at women's shelters.

3. Mowed the grass, the fenced part and the front side yard. There's another day's worth of mowing out there. I decided not to utterly slay myself with the mowing but space it out.

4. Re-potted two plants that needed it, using the rest of the tomato seed dirt in the sprouting tray that's been on the deck for A MILLION YEARS. Or since May or something. Same thing. Anyway that's done and Gawain chewed up the old pots while I was mowing the grass, so there you go, two fewer things to deal with.

5. Went on poop patrol around the yard, second time in three days, prior to mowing. And took the trash out. These are jobs I hate to do. Hate them.

6. This is all out of chronological order, but yesterday all of a sudden I was like, "Time to scrub the bathroom!" And I did. I scrubbed it all. I guess the shower had been getting a little funky, though you could not see a thing on the white, so I don't know. But it's lovely in there now. Everything's all sparkly and there's a startling lack of litter kicked around. Whoa!

7. Then I washed the dishes and did some scrubbing in the kitchen, too. Oh yes I did! There's more to do but it's underway. I need to scrub out these circular shelf things that rotate out. They get so grubby and I don't know why. I mean, I guess I do: gravity. They're below the cupboards so I'm sure flour and water manage to get down there. Anyway. Partly done, partly TO DO.

8. Finished a hat. Yay!

9. Started another hat. Yay!

10. Started unfrakking the garage but had to stop to watch more soccer. More, more!

Oh gosh, I really want to get rid of things. But it may be premature, at least the bookcase part of it, because it's looking like A (remember A?) will be 3/5 of what I was originally told, which means Portland, Maine, not Portland, Oregon. Oregon was borderline even with 5/5. It's impossible with 3/5.

Unless I go with nothing. Like, me and dog and cat in car with a suitcase. I don't see that happening, do you? No.

Anyway the waiting continues and nobody knows anything and it's all very frustrating because we're into August here tomorrow, 31 days and counting down. Tick tick tick!

I may be experiencing an insurmountable urge to bake cookies. Mmmm! Oatmeal cookie bars would be awesome. Or what about peanut butter?

There's another little cherry tomato ripe today that I have to go pick, plus more green beans. If you had seen the giant bowl of them I ate yesterday, you would understand my slight reluctance to go pick more beans. Easily 80% of my food intake yesterday was fresh-picked organic green beans. SO GOOD. But it also means they aren't #1 on my menu request list today. No.

Actually I was going to make shepherd's pie! With no meat or anything. I have all the requisite veg! And I do adore the pie crust. I'm going to do it! After I get showered up from the mowing rampage, that is. Oh, man, shepherd's pie! Yum.

That quilt is nagging at me. I just have to finish the binding. I'm all emotionally scarred by that last heinous binding but I have to OVERCOME and JUST DO IT and get this thing washed and ready and gone. Washed is going to be a slight difficulty, come to think of it. Well. There's enough for at least another batch of laundry.

I'm feeling ruthless about The Stuff. Look out, stuff! Slash, donate, cull! Go go go!

I've already knitted half a hat during today's soccer. Woohoo! The USA game was awesome. I'm besmitten with our girls. They're so mighty and great! I haven't watched a single minute of anything but soccer so far, but the elimination round will be over soon and the number of games will drop precipitously. I'm enjoying it while it lasts.

That and weeding the garden. Boy am I enjoying weeding that garden. I know it's weird but I'm so into it. I also tied up the ridiculous peas again today, using up the last of my selvedge. I'm trying to clear up tall weeds and things along the fences that I'm going to have to take down, so that's less work when the time comes.

Basically I'm doing a lot of that, trying to do as much prep and preventative work as I possibly can. Deal with it now so I don't have to deal with it later.

I know things will get much easier and much, much harder all at once pretty soon so I want to be as ready as I can for that moment. Tick tick tick! Cope cope cope.

Monday, July 30, 2012

RD 1 My Brain

I'm going to keep on laughing. And sleeping. Yes, I'm just going to laugh and sleep all week, because it's getting ridiculous and also, zzzzzz. Sleep is my reaction to overwhelming hilarious stress levels.

I did NOT start taking that new med. Nor did I call to find out how. Because I'm completely failing to cope! Aha!

I DID do Online Job and I'm very pleased about that. In fact, as soon as I walked the dog and got the mail and opened up my letter from the power company saying they're going to turn my electricity off if I don't give them $$$ by next Monday, I dove into Online Job like the power was going off any minute now. Which it isn't. I mean, honestly.

Then I emailed the One Who Knows to find out WHEN the solution is arriving, even though he probably really doesn't exactly know. Or maybe it's tomorrow!

I am also laughing because my bank account is exactly zero. When does that even happen? I know! It's funny. If there was gas enough I'd take my change up to the bank and put it in just so that zero wouldn't be there. I feel like they might get mad at me about a zero. I should probably call and see, but you know what? I'm almost certainly not going to.

Phone calls: OUT. They are the first thing to go with failure to cope. Well, going places goes first. Going places, spending money, making phone calls. OUT.

I should call up the gun store and see if they are buying knives. They probably are. Often they have a sign on their marquee thing that says "BUYING GUNS" but I know they have displays and displays of knives upstairs, where the guns also are. I don't know. It's all mysterious to me. Plus, if they give me ten bucks or whatever, what difference does it make?

I found some Necessities in my shoulder bag so I'm good. No need to go anywhere! Can I have another nap now?

Let's see, what else? I am actually doing laundry. Laundry is good. I'm nearly out of detergent and all out of dryer sheets. Lum de dum. I'm eating up whatever random food I always ignore in the cupboard, so that it's out of the way. You know, weird gluten-free pasta and odd cans of beans. Though I'm still hoarding my two emergency palak paneer MREs for some reason.

Today I got up fairly earlyish and fed the cat, walked the dog, put the oatmeal and apple on to cook in the rice cooker, and went back to bed for three hours. Actually it was longer than that. Hmm. And then got up and ate it. It was fine. I hope. It goes from cook to warm after it's done, so my oatmeal was sitting there in a warm pot for hours, which come to think of it would be a great way to cultivate bacteria and whatnot.

I should use that to make yogurt! I bet it would work great. Boil the milk first, then put it in the rice cooker on warm. Man, I love the rice cooker. It's the center of my cooking world.

I love how I go into panic mode and I'm all, "Hurry hurry hurry! Do the laundry! Eat up the millet! Now now now!" Like it makes the slightest bit of difference.

On the other hand, maybe it does and I'll be on the road this weekend. Or in a nice comfy padded room. Well, face it, with all the dog beds in this house, every room here is a padded room. You seriously would not believe the ratio of dog bed/couch/bed/comfy chair to house around here.

Ways in which I'm actually coping: I shop-vacced the lake out of the basement, good girl! I emptied the dehumidifier! It used to drain with a hose but that has stopped working. If you hook it up to the hose it just pees all the water right out onto the floor underneath it, which is kind of counterproductive in a dehumidifier if you ask me.

Oh my gosh. I never thought of this before. Why don't I put it right over the hole in the floor, instead of constantly emptying this sucker? I wonder if that would work? Hahahahaha!

There is a gigantic grasshopper thing that keeps leaping out of the hole in the floor whenever I pour water down there, giving me eighteen conniptions. You know it thinks it's being funny, doing it every time.

Oooh, it's almost 5:30. That's what happens when you sleep away the whole freaking day.

I mean, that actually was the plan, subconsciously. Hibernate until things sort themselves out.

Don't you agree that it's a good time to WAIT to change medications? I do too. I really don't need to add meddling with brain chemistry to the already nearly maxed out stress levels going on around here.

Nope! I need to knit hats, watch soccer (when it comes back tomorrow), sew quilts, read books, pack more things if I can find anything else not currently in use to pack (surely there must be something!) clean like a demented cleaning thing, get the rest of whatever's in the attic down from the attic regardless of the mice and hornets and things up there (I think just some empty boxes, the secretary, and the blue pads that fit together like puzzle pieces) and oh yeah, get to work on that future kind of stuff, if there's any working brain energy left.

I have weird ideas about moving all the packed boxes to the garage. That's because of the bees that are nesting in the front steps, and also, just, I don't know, efficiency. I like the idea of backing up a truck and being able to fling all the boxes right into it. There isn't any room in the garage right now because of the yard sale crap: the dresser and all the bookcases.

My mind is going around and around on that particular thing. I'm even thinking of taking the bookcases apart, even though they're crappy particleboard and will self-destruct. Or else calling up the foster family place and seeing if they want them. I might just do that, actually. I don't think I can face another yard sale's worth of effort of hauling them outside and not selling them and hauling them back in.

Here's how I deal with that: find the phone number, write it on the white board. That way when the urge/ability to call someone strikes, I can just do it instead of being stymied by irritating details like trying to find the number.

Or I could just email them. Hey, let's do that! I want them GONE.

Whatever bit me on the back of my left ankle weeks ago that turned into a giant potato-sized red swelling has now bitten me on the front of my right ankle. In fact I'm insanely bitten up all over my legs. Stupid bugs.

It's also time to mow the grass. I mean, in the grand scheme. Not time *today*. There's no earthly way I could mow the grass today. I'm panicking. Safety tip: do not combine panicking with gasoline engines and sharp blades! I should add, also do not combine panicking with cooking, baking, or other proximity to hot or flammable objects, like the iron.

At least I know, huh? I could take the anti-panic meds but then I'd just fall asleep....oooooh!

Well, not until the laundry is done.

That was the top piece of mail in this stack that I've been utterly failing to cope with for at least two weeks. I wonder what other delightful surprises await me? I did get a big fat envelope from a bunch of lawyers back a bit and my brain sort of closed down and folded into itself, and then I looked at their address and it was New Jersey, which meant it was my uncle's will. Ohhhhh. Wills are weird. Also it must be annoying to have me on them because I move fairly frequently, compared to...people who don't.

Well, when I get my fantasy of wooded/meadowed property with those Airstream trailers and writing all day with Helo building a house for me in between epic snuggles, you can put that address down and leave it there. RD 1 My Brain.

Oh, Helo, what is taking you so long in getting here? Hup hup, man! The clock is ticking!

Remember at my birthday when I saw someone with his silhouette coming down the walk next to the apartment building and I was agog in case actual Tahmoh Penikett was actually showing up? I think part of my brain is still in that moment, 1/25th believing that Helo might just walk through the door.


Good to remember, huh?

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Worrrrrrk..but then oh so much soccer! Yay!

It's been a busy busy week with the work work work. But it's nearly over.

I got to go see my favorite pharmacist and made him laugh. But it's because he was saying the most hilarious things. I got this new medication and only just found out that the doctors are supposed to give you a plan for transitioning from the old one to the new one. Like you don't just STOP and START. You have to taper up and down and all this stuff.

Obviously I'm not going to do a thing until I talk to the doctor again. Because I asked the pharmacist what would happen if I just stopped one and started the other.

Pharm: You will have flying in your dreams.
Me: Cool, I'll take that.
Pharm: Also you might have increased irritability, anger, impatience, headache, frustration, sleeplessness.
Me: [two thumbs up] Sounds like a great week!

You have to hear the part about the dreams in his lovely accent. "You will have flying in your dreams." Yay!

So anyway. I can wait a day.

Also the doc told me it was a $4 medication, but it cost *slightly* more than everything in my bank account, which fortunately was covered by the change in my wallet. Bahahahahaha. That's hilarious. No gas, no money, and I'm sure not going to the store for a while. You know what's the best thing at a time like that? A change in medication which causes irritability and all of that great stuff he said.

Though actually it's perfect because it sets the stage for A DRAMATIC REVERSAL OF FORTUNE!

End of Act II! Things get dire! Worse! Direr! Worser!

I'm probably going to go sell knives at the gun store tomorrow to buy tampons. That makes me laugh so much I have tears running down my cheeks. Oh man! Phew, gasp. Awesome.

I left the dog loose in the house while I ran out to the store. Except, I mean, I ran around putting everything up that he might chew, like the laptop and my knitting and my shoes. Apparently it wigged him out exceedingly. He does not like it when I do things differently, that dog.

The fabulous part is that when I came home, Gawain and Siegfried were standing there together behind the screen, looking at me as I drove up. So great! Furry animals, united! I bet puppy followed kitty around the whole entire time. I bet kitty wishes I'd cage that dog up again. And nothing got chewed up at all. I praised him up and down but I'm never sure the dog understands when I'm praising him for something he didn't do. I mean, how can you tell?

Yay, not doing a whole range of bad things! Yay! Good boy!

Then we went out and picked a lot of green beans and ate them up. A lot! A whole bowl full. Mmmm. They're incredibly good. And I ate the leftover pizza of unsatisfyingness. And then a teeny jar of rhubarb from last week. Which makes two foods today that were grown right here in this yard. Three if you count the basil on the pizza.

Awesome, huh?

It cooled off dramatically this evening. And got all peaceful. Or maybe that's getting my work done and picking up my dang prescription finally.

I have this eminently achievable fantasy of calling up my old landlord in Oregon and seeing if the house is available. You never know, it might be. And then just renting it. See, look at all the problems that solves. I don't have to fly out there and rent a car and look for housing. I would already have it! I know where everything is, both inside the house and in the town. Of course there is no work in that town, which is why I left in the first place, but this is a fantasy and does not have to be all that practical. Until it does.

I keep pausing the Great Britain vs. UAE game (amazing game) for an hour or half an hour so I can get stuff done. It's nearly over. It's a weird way to watch one of the best games so far, is all I'm saying.

I can't believe this but I have to eat again. That pizza! It does not add up to much is all. Must eat another meal before bed. Must wake up before noon. Ahem. My day is all crowded together, isn't it?

Things to do, things to do.

More soccer tomorrow, or is tomorrow a rest day? They throw them in there sometimes. We'll see!

Soccer = happiness. For true.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Indomitable will!

I'm reading a book that has something on the back about the indomitable will of the human spirit. Of course I had to adopt it as my motto for the day. I shall make tea this day! With my indomitable will! I shall finish this hat! It is my indomitable will!

And so on.

It is pouring down rain with the indomitable will of the, um, clouds! Yes!

It is, though. I just had to close all the windows. How it's raining in four directions at once, I do not know, but I suspect it has something to do with...the rain's indomitable will!

Actually the fourth direction has only one window, in the garage, and before I closed it I realized the rain was only falling on my kayak. Oh no, my kayak might get wet! Indomitable will says...go ahead!

I also have a (one hopes passing) urge to make a quilt for myself with the word UNDAUNTED on it in huge letters. That is so funny that I might have to do it. Like all diagonal so it can be as big as possible. And the rest of it all crazy quilt angles and bright colors and madness. It could be completely awesome in a way that only I will appreciate!

Also I really like the word DAUNTLESS better because a) it doesn't seem like it's saying "not yet" the way undaunted does, and b) it could be the name of a ship, and c) it sounds like I'm just fresh out of daunts and not planning on getting any more. Nope! No daunts here! We are utterly dauntless! Which I adore.

I only use undaunted because my old best buddy H used to describe me that way in her awed voice, which would blow your mind if you knew how completely dauntless *she* is. She goes everywhere and does everything. We are the same. We are dauntless. So I think I'll make that instead.

I'm slowed down on the binding of that brown and white quilt. Yawn, bindings are irritating and slow and fiddling and end up looking more or less crappy no matter what, if you're me, which I am. Dislike bindings. However, you know that I will eventually overcome it due to my INDOMITABLE WILL. Ahahahahaha!

It would be very funny to put that on the other side. I might have to do it.

Can you imagine sleeping under the giant word DAUNTLESS every night? How cool is that?

It might not be a passing fancy after all. Oh no, what if you cover the D and you're auntless? But I am auntless so that's okay. No aunts at all.

The dog is interested in going out into the torrential rainstorm, he thinks. Boy, it gets stuffy in here in a hurry when all the windows get shut, huh? I wonder what it's like not sharing an airspace with a lawn mower that is caked up with grass that's composting itself in situ? It gives the house a certain je ne sais compost pile quoi. (I guess I do sais quoi after all.)

I did not get out to the pharmacy to pick up my new prescription they decided on yesterday. I know it's ridiculously self-referential to fail to leave the house to pick up your prescription that helps you get it together to leave the house, but so it is. Are they even open Sundays? I do not know. Monday's okay. I have sixteen million years' worth of the old one.

Anyway I was busy sleeping my dauntless sleep! Twelve hours and I could have slept more. Oh boy was I tired. Oof. Very little sleep the night before, plus two doctor things, plus errands out in the world, including the library and the pharmacy that didn't have the new prescription ready, plus buying dog biscuits (apparently you cannot give the dog corn chips for treats indefinitely--at least, you really really really don't want to) and apples and butter and broccoli and what was that fourth thing? Apples, butter, broccoli, and....something else.

I don't even really like broccoli. But it looked kind of good. I like it more than I think I do, that's the thing.

Can I just say, I am very much looking forward to the day when I can go to the goddamn store and buy food that I feel like eating? I don't mean ridiculous things like the Donuts of You Went To The Doctor, Good Girl. I mean, yogurt, cottage cheese, rice cakes, bananas, blueberries, strawberries, maybe even meat. It might be like a week away so I'm trying to be calm about it. There is PLENTY to eat. I could bake CINNAMON ROLLS. Or make pancakes. Or more biscuits flambee without the flambee! Or every kind of soup or cold grain salad or potato salad or all kinds of things.

Secretly I just want cheeeeeeeeeese. And freedom. Freeeeeeeeeeeedommmmmm! Cheeeeeeeeese!

The crust is rising and I already cooked the spinach so I'll just keep trying to think what else could go on the pizza. Seriously, do not let me put refried beans on the pizza. That would just be appalling. Spinach and oil should be okay if I use the right spices in the right quantities.

I love that I'm willing to make pizza without cheese rather than drive in to Walmart to pick up my prescription and buy a pack of provolone. Jiminy. And I really love that I'm all rationalization incarnate about it. "The pharmacy might be closed," I say. "Walmart's provolone isn't very good." "The roads are more dangerous when wet. Remember hearing that terrifying skid out front last week?" And next thing you know I haven't left the house in a week again.

Actually the car's gas light is on to notify me that once again I'm out of gas, which is a better reason to wait until the pharmacy is open for sure. Because I won't be going out again for a while after that. Yoicks!

Spinach and olive oil on bread. There's a fancy name for that, right? What is it? I mean, isn't focaccia just pizza without the pizza? So this is better than that. (I cannot stand focaccia, actually. Never liked it. Too dry and chewy.)

I'm still sore and my neck feels peculiar from the running and jumping two days ago. Jeebus. Also my stomach muscles are all shrieking and gibbering like the sheeted dead. It's a good thing I'm, you know, UNDAUNTED, and all with the INDOMITABLE WILL, or I might be slightly put off doing it again and instead just sit in the comfy chair, eating minimalist pizza and watching all the soccer in the whole wide world.

I was going to post an Abby Wambach picture but when I went to search for one, well, you'll see if you search. Apparently ESPN did some kind of special issue or something? Anyway my search started to seem really creepy and like way too many people are objectifying the supremely awesome Abby, so let's not!

But I really am going to get myself a red and white stripey shirt and iron on the number 14 as soon as I can, because she's my idol and so very very awesome and now I don't mind so much about not having toppings and cheese, right? That's right! Because of health and strength and muscles! Indomitable will! Raaarrrrr!

She was targeted by the other team for attacks and take-downs, because she's so formidable, and then got punched in the face by this Colombia player and went and scored a goal three minutes later. And she says that instead of getting mad, you go ice, ice cold, and strike back by scoring. How great is that? ABBY!!!

Here, read the article. Oh boy! Abby!

Friday, July 27, 2012

Donuts and joviality

I got donuts! I admit it. I had two, TWO appointments today and it was all harrowing, changing the meds and stuff, you never know! I mean that sort of thing all depends on my reportage. If I forget to tell them something or mis-remember or whatever, I could get screwed up. So I worry.

I worry about making changes to anti-anxiety meds! I am disappearing down this vortex!

Lookit all the awesomeness of today:

1. I ate my first green beans from the garden! And shared them with the puppers of course.

2. And my first cherry tomato! It was super good

3. I am sure that totally makes up for the donuts! But also: donuts. Mmmmmmm.

4. A grasshopper flew right into my ear! I screeched! But it had already flown out! DUN DUN!

5. The only game I missed yesterday, New Zealand vs. Belarus, is playing right now. Ha!

6. England hates Mitt Romney because he acted like (I mean, is) a complete donkey. I don't know why that
tickles me so much but it does. Simon Pegg called him a fucking muppet! Yay!

7. I'm kind of in glowing smittenness and admiration of Simon Pegg at the moment. It's because of his voice on the Hot Fuzz commentary. Listen to that without completely falling for the guy, I dare you. Orientation notwithstanding.

8. There's a player on the Brazil team who goes by Hulk! He looks like the Hulk! His shirt says...wait for it...HULK!

9. The Olympics! Oh oh oh! I'm always bursting into joyous tears and screeching and cheering. And when they show clips of track races from years ago I have to yell, "RUN, RUN, RUN!" Isn't it good I live alone?

10. I ran on the trampolini yesterday and now it feels like someone scrubbed out my trachea with a wire brush. Holy crikey.

11. I took Gawain Dog for a walk up the hill today because I finally just figured I would totally dork it up and take my electric deer fly killing tennis racket with me...in a secret shoulderbag carrying case. Then I put on my stars and stripes socks to maximize the dorkiness. I win! (I needed it, too. Effing deer flies.)

12. Did I mention the donuts? Don't worry, I didn't get a dozen.

Okay! Something is scratching either near my window or inside the walls, or else it's a bat stuck in the shutters. I do not know which. I thought it was the kitty and then looked over and whoops, the kitty's in the garage. Huh.

My garden, man, it is glorious. Though I weeded so much yesterday that every time I closed my eyes, I do not lie, I would see one of those starburst shaped grass clumps that have invaded the garden. The garden that I ripped the turf out of and dug down to three feet by the SWEAT of my BROW and many other associated PARTS. Oh no no no, you're not growing in MY garden.

It's incredibly satisfying in an OCD way to grab one of those starburst/asterisk shaped grass plants--I don't know why they grow out instead of up--by the roots and rrrrrrrip it right up. I guess maybe that kind of ran away with me a little bit. Because I have a lot of mosquito bites and I did a lot of weeding. It looks all neat and well groomed out there.

This morning I forgot breakfast, tea, and water on my way out the door. I mean there wasn't time for tea. And I forgot water. And I didn't have time to make breakfast. And I forgot my PHONE. Dude, I can hardly go from one room to another without my phone. I was all impressed!

Heh. I just looked at the top left corner of my laptop screen to see what the score was on the game. Someone's maybe watched a teeny bit too much soccer lately, eh?

I got home from my walk and I was like, "Man, the tag on this shirt is really bugging me!" and kept reaching back there, only...dun dun...there WAS no tag. It was a great big bug clinging to the inside of my t-shirt. Aaaaaaaarrrrrrgghhhhhh. I flung it away, Gawain ran into the room to see what the screeching was about, and then he ate the bug. Problem solved!

He is so good with bugs. There'll be a mosquito and I'll say, "Gawain, get the bug!" and he looks around with these sharp little fast head movements until he sees it, and then he'll climb over the couch or me or your grandma to get to it and eat it. Good boy!

I was showing therapy guy a picture of little niece from my wallet (long story) and he said, "She looks like you!" How come I never realized that? Doy. I'm not supposed to say it for some reason.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Want to see a picture of me wearing ridiculous glasses and knitting an incredibly complex Fair Isle sweater in like 1988 or something?

I don't know what year it was. But I was living in Berkeley and working as a street vendor on Telegraph. And for fun I was knitting samples for this huge yarn store--they hang them up and they make people buy yarn, truly. I had the option of being paid in yarn, so I took it, which is where I got the yarn for the Fair Isle cardigan and the book I used to knit it. And the 14" authentic steel double-pointed needles that put holes in everything I owned. Yes!

This looks like Christmas of that year, whatever year it was, who knows? Notice teacup and teapot in close proximity.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Beware of soccer talk

These American commentators are using the British post-positive appositive! Known to soccer commentators all over by no name whatsoever! But it's the Brits who do this, so it's fabulous to hear Americans doing it. Did they pick it up watching English soccer? I betcha.

They go, "What they need to do, Honduras, is to work on their blah blah blah." They are not addressing Honduras! Honduras is the subject!

Maybe this is common in all of British English, not just soccer commentaries, but I only hear the latter, so. I don't know. I love it, though.

They just did it again. "It kept him on side, Bengston, that formation."

What are you up to today? Watching all the men's soccer games? ME TOO! Though I also weeded the garden a lot. Stretches the hamstrings, boy howdy! The ground is all the way down there!

I made soup all night long in the crock pot and woke up to a mysteriously neither pleasant nor unpleasant but disquieting reek of basil. Great northern beans, fresh parsley, fresh basil, cumin, lots of black pepper, sea salt. It tastes amazing. I had to blender it up. I'm in a weird place where I don't like solids in soups. Why is that? I want a smooth puree. Anyway it tastes really good.

Here's an excellent soccer memory I totally forgot until yesterday. I knew the first part but forgot the corner kick thing.

I got recruited to play intramural soccer due to my athleticism and whatnot, which sounds funny now when I'm a bit of a pudding, but then! Look out! But I did not know the rules AT ALL. I'd never played, never seen a game, had not the slightest clue.

This is another Being Literal story in some ways. They said, "Don't worry about the rules, just don't use your hands, you'll be fine." So I bounced a ball off my elbow. They said, "Don't use your arms at all." So I bounced a ball off my shoulder. Whoops! Also not allowed. They said, "Okay, we'll put you in goal, where you can use your hands." I was useless in goal. Appallingly useless. Might as well not have been there.

But then they found out I could put a ball anywhere I wanted, so I got to be one of the running around people again, and I also got to take all the corner kicks. Because the first time, of course I had no idea what it was about, so I said, "Where do you want it?" and they pointed to the penalty spot, being ironic, so I kicked it right to the penalty spot and our guys scored and everyone was agog.

You would think I'd be a useful striker with that ability but among other issues, like not knowing how to keep the ball when someone wanted to take it, they could not make me understand the offside rule so I was constantly offside. There were some very funny conversations. Like they said, "Keep one of the players from the other team between you and the goal at all times," which is the easiest way to grasp offsides, and I said, "I can't control where they go. How can I control where they go?" Hee.

I was very willing and eager to do what they wanted, believe me, but they didn't know how to explain things in my language. You have to be specific and exact and don't say what you don't actually mean. I hear what you actually say, not what you mean.

It was a strange experience, overall. I had all these skills but no understanding. And no one was capable of communicating what to do. I was the fittest one on the field by far but had the double handicap of not knowing the rules and playing on the rugby team, which meant another whole set of rules trying to reinstate themselves. I had no instinct at all for where to run or what to watch or how to defend or attack. I still wouldn't. 

But at least I understand offsides now.

On the tv, the guys are yelling, "This is an absolutely ridiculous goal!" It was, too. Tied up!

I have to get the dog snuggle zone off the trampoline so I can run on it and jump up and down and stuff. Soccer makes it so hard to sit still! Go go go! Hop hop hop! Run run run!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Got my legs under me

I know, where else would they be? But in the past two days I suddenly got my legs under me somehow, that's the best way I can describe it. Like walking on ice then walking on solid ground. Woohoo!

Today I got the tv people to turn channel 603 on for me. I don't know what they added or if I just went up a grade (an upgrade?) or what but they said it'll be $14 a month more and I can shut it off as soon as the Olympics are over, no problem. Huh!

So I spent most of the day watching soccer. Awesome fabulous world class international women's soccer. MY FAVORITE. I mean I love watching the men play too, but women's soccer is way more interesting and inspiring and less full of stupid crap like diving. Though the men's game is full of all those beautiful boys, so there's that. Ahem.

Yesterday I just stuck the dog in the car and drove over to the store where they sell lots of cheap junk. No, not Marden's, the other one, Ocean State Job Lots. I know, classy, right? But they sell those electric tennis rackets that kill bugs. I just fixed mine by taking pieces from two broken ones and fixing one of them. But then I dropped it and broke it forever and ever by busting the wire mess off the plastic where it was embedded.

The new ones are a) beautiful royal blue and b) 3000 volts instead of 2400. They make your ears ring when a hateful deer fly meets its end. ZAP! I don't know how there are still any deer flies out there, because I kill dozens, literally dozens, every single day. Today at least three dozen. They must be reproducing like crazy. What do deer flies see in each other? Honestly.

Ooh, then we went to the little park by the creek and startled a great blue heron. I adore the way they fly so slowly. How can they stay in the air, flapping so slowly, when they're so big? They're like: flap. Flap. Flap. And this one turned its head while flying and gave us this irritated, disdainful look.

Then we accidentally flushed a pair of big brown egrets or something. I don't know what they were, but it was cool to see them. Birds! Large birds! I like 'em!

Today Gawain dog barked at some juvenile bald eagles flying over the yard. Good boy! That way I can get him near me and be overprotective against raptor incursions. They also looked down at us. I find it so strangely alarming to get LOOKED AT by great big huge birds.

He's never barked at eagles before. I guess I conveyed my alarm about them.

They are NOT going to eat my dog, probably, but I get nervous about it. I mean, he's delicious! You can't be too careful.

I'm sitting on a dog bed on the floor, the dog is lying in my chair, and the cat is lying upside down on the rug. I don't think we follow traditional species roles in my house.

Soccer! Oh boy! Except I got furious at this English jackass who kept being rude to Brandi Chastain. Not remotely acceptable. This Korea/Colombia game I'm watching now has totally normal commentators, some slightly dopey American guy and a great sardonic American woman soccer star. I never know who the guys are. They're probably retired MLS players I never heard of. Anyway this one is perfectly nice.

He is listening, responding, not interrupting her, having a conversation, sharing the stage, not, for example, actively preventing her from speaking or ignoring everything she said, including direct questions, or deliberately cutting her off when she gets one syllable out. That Arlo guy! I was so angry. I'm sure Brandi speaks up for herself perfectly well and told him off and told the producers, plus hello, they can hear it. I really hope he never comments on another match. Ever.

90 minutes of egregious rudeness to an absolute legend. What is that about? During a USA game.

Other than watching soccer and cooking summer squash, we did a lot of weeding/sniffing around in the yard today. Division of labor. Squash is so good. Mmm, squash. And rice, which I ate way too much of. Jasmine rice, I might as wall just throw in the towel. It's so insanely good. Oh oh oh.

Ooh, listen, this commenting guy accidentally just said something at the same time as Cat and APOLOGIZED. One of the only things that Arlo jackass said to Brandi directly was to correct her when she got a player's name wrong. Guess what, jerk, she is somebody in soccer and you are not.

Yuck, it really took away from the game. That's when I started quilting so the machine would drown out the commentary. And now I'm done quilting the quilt! Awesome! I need to cut the binding and (doy) sew it on, then wash and dry it. Fastest turnaround ever.

Next up is that bookcase quilt I started ages ago. I just found it stacked up in a basket in a blue fabric cube and went, "Ohhhhhhh...."

Maybe I'll use the iron on stuff for this one too. But I don't really need to. But it makes everything so straight and lined up! You would not believe this quilt. The corners of the squares are all cornery and square! Right angles abound! Amazing.

I still can't believe it's done already, even though I worked on it for hours and hours today. Hee.

I read this article on how to travel abroad every so often by getting rid of all your stuff and leaving your job. Which...really? I mean, maybe they meant taking a leave of absence or something, but it sure sounded like quitting your job. Who can do that? Who can just give up their job that way? I think even if you had a great high-paying job you'd be even less able to give it up and walk away for six months like she said. Weird.

Anyway the parts I LIKED were about going through your stuff and sorting into take, store, lose. Which I'm going to have to do soon, I think. I think so? Maybe? I'm not sure at all. But it means opening up all those boxes, ha ha. Oh well, so what.

I have these conflicting impulses. I mean obvious ones. Like, get rid of these extra things you don't need vs. but that's my old blue plastic colander!

It's irritating. I think conflicting impulses are REALLY ANNOYING because you can't really commit to either. But thinking about putting things in storage is highly enlightening. If you can do without it for months, then you don't need it, dude. If I can pack stuff up for a month and do without it just fine, then I don't need it. Except my sweaters. Those I need.

I totally fantasize about having very little stuff but that comes up against serious reluctance to part with things. In case I need them.

In case I need them! Gaaaaaah! I will not need them! If I need them, I will get another one! Jeez! Let it go!

I seem to be really good at this on the west coast and really terrible at it on the east coast. Isn't that weird? Isn't that indicative of how nuts the east makes me? It's true, every trip west I bring evvvvvvverything, and every trip east, I get rid of everything.

Well, when I know more, like if I can go with truck or trailer, I'll do the rapid repack, where I take my six loaf pans, extra 9x13 pan, and never used 9x9 pan (for example) out of the box and sell them at my yard sale.

Sheesh. Just to begin with. Criminy.

Clinging to stuff costs a lot more than replacing just what you need when you get there. Unless I take a truck in which case, I still don't need six loaf pans, you guys.

Or all these quilts-to-be. On this one I'll trim off all the loose threads and do the binding tomorrow. But it's been great to be on my feet most of the day. I feel so much better when I'm on my feet. I should develop a whole theory about how depression comes from compressing your butt chakra by sitting down. Yeah, that's it.

Makes me miss the bakery. I totally want to bake cupcakes, too, but I'm hoarding butter. Cupcakes!

Who do you favor, Colombia or PRKorea? I love Colombia because they're awesome and also, Andres Escobar! and I don't know, I just like how they play. But I also love Korea because I sat with the fans that one time by accident of assigned seating and they were so totally great that I ended up singing their cheers with them. Which of course I had to sing again today. They're up by one!

This is like the opposite of conflicted feelings. I like both! No-lose situation! (Korea is the better team, though. But Colombia has way more style! And ponytails!)

My muffin pan is packed. You can't make cupcakes without one. Guess what happens when you put the little paper cups on the pan and then pour batter into them? Puddles! Yes! I tried it once when my muffin pans were already full. Do not do this!

Anyway the USA game was awesome and I got to see my girls and scream and cheer and jump in the air and alarm the dog! Yay! So happy! Hurray!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

And in a startling twist!

I'm totally fine today. Hahahahahahaha!

No, really.

What changed? I have to try to figure it out right away obviously or how will I know? Exactly! Even though that's probably impossible.

1. it rained
2. I accidentally got the tv turned back on (more below)
3. I used my inhaler before the dog walk (again, below)
4. I made awesome soup
5. I got that work done I was stressing about
6. much less tea
7. took a monster blue mucinex pill, ugh
8. a week has passed since the med change

Otherwise? Eh? Nothing I can think of.

The inhaler is what made my hands shake, I realized later that evening. I know this happens, but then I forget. Which is why I'm going to start keeping a meds log. A tiny notebook where I write down everything I take and what time. See, actually everyone should do this, but especially if you're taking things that are actually designed to MESS WITH YOUR HEAD.


The tv. I called DirecTv to ask them what it would cost (and when) to turn the tv back on this Friday, or Thursday night, so I could watch the Olympics. I love the Olympics! Except I got a robot, the kind you talk to and it understands you, so things kind of got out of control, because I kept expecting it to hand me off to a real human. Surely they wouldn't let me restart my service just by talking to a robot? They'd need confirmation that I was actually me, for example, not just calling from my phone number?

Nope. It asked me all these leading questions, like, Is this a question about your DirecTv service? And so on. I kept saying yes. And then it said, Do you want to restart your DirecTv service? And I said yes, expecting to hear beep beep bloop and talk to a human. But the robot just said, Okay! I have restarted your service. Or whatever.

And then I watched Community from my dvr all evening. Yay! And knitted the latest hat.

They DID change the deadline, by the way--middle of August now. So it's very good (and not just symptomatic) that I didn't go mail the box of hats. I can have a lot more hats by the middle of August. Look out!

Also I can afford to mail the box by then, heh heh. I sure hope so, anyway.

I found my notebook list of big bills, but I'm going to make it into a spreadsheet and be all official about it, with due dates and things. I could pay them off next week if all goes well. Oh please go well, all!

It also has a list of things to do once they can be afforded, as follows:

cat to vet
dog to vet
tooth pulled
eye exam
replace chewed glasses
1st/last/security in new place
truck rental or trailer purchase

I do not believe that my list of big bills and that list together add up to POSSIBLE.

It's actually almost 100% certain that that impossibility is what's causing my major anxiety. I have this weird inner math that knows things about money, even when I don't know it consciously. Consciously I'm very bad about math and have to stop and think (I'm not kidding) if you ask me what seven plus six is. I have to figure tips and 20% off slowly and carefully and even then I'm not sure.

But inner math, man, it KNOWS. And when it knows, it only communicates distress by freaking me right the hell out. I get super anxious and have panic attacks. That's what sets me off in the store, I'm pretty sure, because I'll be walking around going, "Strawberries, two for $4, that's $4, apples at $1.79/lb equals $5, that's $9," and beside the fact that simply doing that math in my head is harder than digging rocks all day, I know what that number can and can't be at the end and when it gets too close, even though I'm estimating high at all times and rounding up, I panic and end up sitting in the pharmacy chairs with my head on my knees.

You can't fight the math.

What book is it where someone is too fat to fit through a hole and someone says, "We might be able to do something about the drop, but maths is maths," anyone know? Oh, I remembered, it's A Cluster of Separate Sparks, where our heroine gallantly escapes through a window and...well, I won't give it away. You should read it!

Why are you still sitting there? Go read it!

Oh, you're being polite and waiting until I'm done. Sorry about that. I'll wrap up!

So I have to do math and see what's actually possible, even though I can't since I don't know the numbers or anything, but at least I can be ready when the numbers arrive. Like packing all my stuff up a month early and sitting around in a house full of boxes! Yes! Wait, no. Better!

I'm actually going to do the laundry today, too, I swear. All sorts of coping possibilities present themselves. Plus, you know, soup. That soup was amazing. There's still some left if you want some. Mmmmm. And that biscuit with the burn mark down the middle, like they fed that guy they threw in the bog, before they bashed him on the head, strangled him, and what was the third thing? Oh, cut his throat.

They fed him burned cakes of some kind beforehand, burned with a poker, apparently. They would have looked just like my biscuits that fell on the hot element in the oven. Only made with some particular kind of seeds and carrying some kind of meaning. Possibly the kind that persisted until recently with the person who got the piece of the cake with the ring in it and was the king for x weeks and then got sacrificed, meaning if he got the piece of the cake with the burn marks, then he got the axe. It's like drawing lots except with cake. They do this at Christmas, or at least they did. Except in recent centuries it was just, you get chosen by the ring in the cake. You don't get killed.

Prehistoric cake rituals! Of course I know all about this. Doy! How could you doubt it? I love this kind of thing. I don't think anyone's ever published the ring in the cake analogy for the burned cakes in his stomach, though, come to think of it, but since it's the kind of thing that would require massive research on my part (being a prehistory dilettante) it would really take some commitment and also it's PURE CONJECTURE.

Well, anyway, cake kings with rings aside, I'm not going near any bogs, so you can just forget that! Also I didn't eat that burned biscuit. Also I'm definitely probably not going to be any kind of iron age human sacrifice person that I know of at this time!

Olympics! Yay! You know the Olympics utterly fill me with joy and make me leap around and get all excited and be a better person and all! Yes! So great! Like World Cup only not quite as good! National anthems and all! And the soccer, man, when is it? I need to print out schedules and prepare. Prepare!

It might be the tv, what do you think?

Monday, July 23, 2012

Well, hell, *I* sure don't know

I had to pull my own biscuits out of the fire! Isn't that some kind of metaphor for being rescued? Or is that chestnuts?

I don't exactly know what happened. My hand jerked and the pan tipped and some of the biscuits fell on the 450 degree element in the oven and immediately set on fire.

But you know I was totally calm, relatively speaking, because I am AT ALL TIMES completely freaking out the way you would if something suddenly went on fire in front of you.

I picked up the ones I could reach, turned off the oven, moved a rack, got the rest with the tongs, and it was all over.

I was shaking like a shaking thing while trying to wash the dishes. I mean, I did wash the dishes. All of them. While the soup was cooking. But I was shaking the whole time. And I don't see any good reason for that. I ate oatmeal with an apple in it at noon (oh no, more white food!) (but hey, whole grain!) and that was 4:30, so what the what? So I ate a bunch of peanut butter, the only high-calorie/volume food I have around. I didn't quit shaking, though. I tried to pick up the glass mixing bowls in the cupboard to get the bottom one out and couldn't do it. Sheesh.

I'm still shaking after eating the most fabulous soup, so good that I forgot to put sour cream in it, dude! And a couple of biscuits with butter. So. I don't know. Not enough water? I only had one cup of tea today, though it was a great big one with two teabags in it. I keep thinking, maybe freaking out people should cut down on caffeine, heh heh.

I'll probably exercise then watch movies and drink herbal tea and knit hats all evening in an attempt to calm the hell down.

That soup really is insanely good, though.

One of these things is not like the others.

It's going to be a bumpy ride

Hang on tight. And my great appreciation for anyone who's still reading the Ack! Eeek! Yow! chronicles.

This is going to be the hardest week. I think. Of course I don't know, but I do know it's going to be a lot harder than previous weeks.

First on the schedule: renew the emergency anti-panic meds. Done! Phew! I did it *while* making a cup of tea, as in, dialing the phone and filling the kettle simultaneously. That was unnecessary but oh well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Yes it did.

No harm done.

Weeded the garden frantically while out with the dog, who finally came and sat by the little fence and sighed dramatically at me. I've been neglecting the weeding since, ooh, planting. Yep. Yesterday I pulled up the four foot tall radishes. I mean there was no radish root, just giant flowery radish plants. They were going to seed, actually, so I feel like a murderer, but so untidy! Could not stand it! Also I'd like to plant more.

I gave myself a big asthma attack doing all that, such that I had to go lie on the bed. I was a wheezing wheezer. Dog came and stared at me with concern and interest from about four inches away, which is so adorable, gosh! He's the best. He really is the best pup.

I got Online Job done yesterday but not much else. Oh, made pancakes. Mmm, pancakes. I'm in this weird state where I can't really get anything done. Though I am reading a lot and knitting away like it's a lifeline.

La la la! I have to go to the library today. Or, well, my books are due today and I need more books. I would not place any bets as to whether I actually get there. I have more Online Job to do today, I mean, above and beyond the usual day to day requirements.

It's not really a big deal, except in my mind. I mean, tops, it's an hour of work. SO CHILL OUT. (Addressed to me, not you.)

The nice doc was all, mindfulness, just be aware of things. I'm trying to be aware of things. For instance, I'm boiling hot today for no reason I can think of. I woke up boiling hot in a 72 degree room. I'm all asthmatized. This is the dry weather and dust and humidity and pollen and junk in the air. The breathery is probably still irritated from mowing on Friday. Um, what else? I'm having a lot of trouble sitting still, which is normal for me. My mind keeps jumping around. My legs keep jumping around!

Wow, you should see the clouds of dust and junk that blow up every time a car drives by.

I bet I can renew my books online and remove that pressure, huh? Let's do it.

Okay, um, maybe just do today's work and then go on from there. Dog walk around 3:00 down the road because that's when it's shady. Wash the dishes at some point. Allez!

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Accio books

Nope, still can't find my Harry Potter books. Most of the boxes are unlabeled. They could be in the one labeled juv. fic. but I'd really think I'd mark the box HP. I saved them out until nearly last and then I was like, "Oh, come on, you just read these. Pack them away. You'll be fine without them!"

Which of course I will be, once I stop, you know, obsessing about it.


Yesterday I so did not want to go out that I delayed and delayed until it was too late to get most of my errands done. But I got two major ones out of the way. Jasmine rice at the judgy hippie store (and chocolate to try to kill this headache that's been with me for, um, this is the third day) and recycled electronics at Best Buy. Which is crazy easy to do, by the way. You walk in, go to customer service, say you're recycling electronics, put them down, and they're like, "Okay, you're all set!" YAY!

They take practically everything you can think of, too, as long as it's not smashed up. I took my dvd player apart to get the Battlestar dvd out (Pegasus, I know!) but then I put it back together again all tidily. You can't tell except it rattles.

So where was I yesterday before failure to cope (FTC) took over my life and I didn't do anything much?

1. Online Job, must do today
2. laundry, eh, can do it tomorrow if necessary
3. mowing, again, can wait until it's not ungodly hot
4. I have to put the dishes away and stop using them out of the drainer, but again, no big deal

In other words, much ado about not much at all. Silly bunny.

The kids! They were great. Little niece had been a pill last time I was there and I did not react well to it, so I think she'd been coached at how to do better. Because when I got there, she came out with BUNNIES and said, "Here's something you might like to play with!" Awwwww. That's great social advice, though, isn't it? When you have a guest coming, think about what they might like to play with and have it ready for them.

I just adore that. She's a good kid.

I told her the story of how my basket of bunnies fell on my cup of tea and scared me and the dog. And she instantly did a dramatic re-enactment! Awesome!

Later her little brother woke up and emerged. I got him to say my name, but he refused to do it for an audience. He's got this feisty little refusal to perform going, which is making them nuts because he's way behind on talking, I guess? Though I've met older kids who talked less. He's wicked smart and understands everything but won't say things.

Except for me! Whee! It's because a) I'm not his parents and b) I have this ingrained nanny habit of holding up items and saying their nouns in a loud, clear voice. Then he would repeat it back to me.

So we're sitting at the dinner table, eating corn on the cob, and I go, "Corn!" and baby goes, "Corn!" back at me and his parents are simultaneously thrilled he's doing it and annoyed that he won't do it all the time.

Give me that kid and a bag of M&Ms and I'll have him so nouned up, you won't even believe it.

I get him mixed up with the puppy, however. He grabbed my water glass and I kind of spluttered something high-pitched like, "Wepadeebabeepaneeda with the PAWS!" which had my niece in stitches, and the rest of us too, actually. Little niece kept doing a very accurate imitation of it. Hee.

When you talk about my puppy, little nephew says, "DOWN!" and makes this gesture waving downward. Which is awesome. Puppy jumps, we all say DOWN, nephew learned it. He sees pictures of Gawain, he says DOWN.

They're endless fun. Fortunately I'm not there for all of it or it would be much less fun, I'm sure. But I have a blast with them.

Niece and I watched Beauty and the Beast, which has WAY too much singing, but I like Belle and I adore the Beast, all fangy and grumpy. Also I like Philippe, the horse. There is way too much Gaston, though. Yucky! It perfectly captured the way all the townspeople gather around and sing when I go to the library, though. Wait, no.

I kept saying things during the movie, like, "Oh, no, the horse ran away, what's going to happen?" and little niece would say, "You just have to watch the movie and find out." I love that! I love hearing things my brother would say come out of her mouth like that, in that same exact calm tone.

I wouldn't talk during the movie except she's seen it twelve million times.

Ooh, and I borrowed Tangled. I've been wanting to see it!

My brother showed me all the outrageous knives he kept, which are mostly gigantic and scary and I'm very glad they're not in my house. There's a certain knife size beyond which I just don't want them around. That's odd, right? Because I have a machete and swords. But those are different. Eh, I don't know, they were like Jayne Cobb knives and ooked me out. He also rescued all sorts of crazy stuff from the uncle lair that I'm glad someone has and I'm glad it's not me.

Though apparently there's a Red Ryder BB gun coming my way. I promise not to shoot my eye out! He's fixing something to do with the magazine.

Also the issue was raised of ammo "cooking off," which means it will explode just from being too hot. Which concerned me suddenly for the road trip I may or may not be taking. I think I'll give the ammo to him, honestly. I do not need the stress of thinking my truck or trailer could suddenly open fire. I mean, honestly. It's safely in a specially designed ammo box but still.

And now I know there IS a place I can leave a lot of stuff for free (phew) if I decide to go the trailer route, which is a relief. Though apparently it has mice and snakes. I figure the snakes eat the mice, no problem! It's high and dry and locked. That's a piece of the puzzle now in place.

Except I'm not sure I can handle the move. I'm serious. I think I can when I'm at home and then I can't even handle going to freaking Best Buy for a visit that isn't even a purchase. Out driving around yesterday, near the mall and all those people and cars and traffic lights and turn lanes, I was just beside myself. It was way too much. And it took me an hour and a half to leave the house. I'm actually not sure I can handle it. Oh, I can probably make myself do it, but I think it could be way too much for me once I'm doing it.

I kind of had to rethink yesterday, out at the mall I'd been to a million times, as I was hyperventilating and freaking out and turned down the wrong road and couldn't find my way out of the eye care place.

Oh well, things may look very different in another week or so. Though hoo boy, Online Job and its vagaries of payment really have screwed me up for the next two weeks or so. I will manage. I will manage it! Once I really did the math it was a bit alarming though.

Oh well, when isn't it? Let's have another yard sale! That would actually pretty much solve it all, short term.

Wouldn't it be hilarious if I got a job right now? I would seriously laugh all day long. I could not walk away from a job, either. Or even doubled up Online Job for longer than a week, sheesh!

Okay, to the task at hand! Drink water! Make more tea! Buckle down! Stop fretting and do stuff! Yeah!

You know what's good to remember? You can never predict the future. You don't know what's going to happen. Things are going to happen that are so weird and so out of the blue that there's no possible way to imagine them. WE DON'T KNOW is very comforting to me.

As a reminder, here's a thing that happened in my life that I never, ever could have predicted in one million years and still cannot quite believe happened. I was commissioned to knit a tiny Jayne hat for a My Little Pony. Yep!

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Well THAT ain't right

My old boss in the bakery used to say that in moral judgment. I loved it. It's such a blanket denunciation but also really gentle. Not: that's evil, or that's wrong even, just that ain't right.

Today! I am not managing well! THAT ain't right!

I did not manage to get out to run errands or go to the post office again, second day in a row, which is a bad sign, or at least, not right.

I'm super allergic to whatever clouds of pollen/dust/spores/frog innards I kicked up mowing yesterday and having all the usual allergic face effects: headache, cough, sore throat, stuffed up, sound like what's her name. No, the newer one. From Romancing the Stone. ANYWAY.

Also I can tell from the yard that in mowing the long-neglected path, I missed where it was at one point and mowed over the four foot weeds, not noticing. I think that's hilarious. If also, by definition, not right.

I stayed up late reading this book in the Percy Jackson series or world, even though it constantly irritates me, I don't think it's at all good storytelling (all random events one after the other, all diversions), it's full of snarky kids covering for their inner pain, it's even more full of "As you know, Bob," and the world-building is appalling.

It's my last library book because I didn't get to the library yesterday. Woe! I might have to read Harry Potter just to cleanse the old palate anyway. And then I'll be tortured trying to articulate why one is good and the other is terrible even when there are so many superficial similarities.

It's the curse of the English professor. I *have* to articulate it.

There are other major things I didn't get done also.

I'm having my usual Saturday morning panic (at noon) I realize, because I have to do the laundry and the major work of Online Job and go visit the baby bunnies and also run all those errands I didn't get done, even though a) I could do the laundry any time, hello, b) part 2 could get done tomorrow. SO RELAX. Do one or the other. Jiminy.

It cooled off so much over the past two days that my dog is cold! I keep having to cover him up. Awwww. This morning I even let him crawl under the covers with me. He's the perfect snuggler, either curls against my stomach or along my back, adapts easily to turning over, doesn't stick all four of his paws into my stomach like some dogs I have known, and sleeps with his head on the pillow. What a good pup. I swear there's nothing more comforting than a dog sleeping stretched out along your spine. Co-evolution or whatever it is, what a good thing. 

Oh, boy. You know Bingo is a clam but for crying out loud, I've put down TWO books lately because the authors felt the need to write "Bingo" as a one word sentence like that. Really, people? Really? Someone goes looking for something, in one case a BOOK in a BOOKSTORE, and when they find it, that's the best the author can do? "Bingo." YUCK.

Someone should go looking for an entertaining time for old ladies on a Friday night and come across a large gathering in a church fellowship hall, rows of chairs and someone up front calling out numbers, and say: "Bingo."

Otherwise no one is allowed to say that again ever. Go back in time and erase it from all books!

My arms went numb all night long due to the mowing. THAT ain't right. I thought we were done with that? Oh my golly I got no sleep at all. Except for the sleep, of course.

I have these massive bug bites I don't remember getting. How does that happen? They're gigantic. Like fifty cent pieces. And crazy itchy. Stop it, stop it, stop it.

You know they still haven't given us an ultimate deadline for Afghans for Afghans, so my box of hats *could* wait, probably should wait--they keep saying things like, "Go ahead and knit another one or two! We'll let you know!" And I have room for six more hats in that box. I should just go into overdrive and crank them out, huh? I did finish one last night (HAT!) and cast on another one.

I'm getting rid of that blue itchy lopi-style yarn. There, I decided. And the itchy red that's similar. It's so unpleasant, I don't want to knit with it anymore. I've had it for ONE MILLION YEARS. Gone, out of here.

The rest of the hats (only one was that blue, the one I did last night) will be Lamb's Pride worsted, which makes them a little slower than bulky.

I think the unbleached muslin was washed. Okay, I had to iron it, so of course it was washed! Done, stop fretting about it. (Ha ha, right.)

I have double Online Job starting Monday, which is great for obvious reasons, but is maybe stressing me out a wee bit! Just a little! Aaaaah! Partly because they pay on this weird delayed schedule, so suddenly there's a week added on to a pay date right there. Oh, I'll be fine. It's just some Aaaaaaaaaah! working its way through my allergy-addled brains. We have apples! We have oatmeal! We have refried beans! We have all the housepet food for housepets! We will be fine!

I made a spreadsheet (of course I did!) to compare all the sundry costs of truck vs. trailer trips. It was illuminating. Basically they cost the same only the trailer trip splits the cost into two trips. You don't even want to know what the cost of gas adds up to for either of those--especially for the truck, which they say gets 8-12 mpg. Oof. And probably less pulling a car trailer.

I'm hoping I do not get put into the position of having to decide something like that. The decision seems to be breaking my brain, just rehearsing it! Imagine actually making that decision. Meanwhile my brother tells me to move to North Dakota because they're desperate for people there (um) and I can't find anyone who knows the Portland in Maine, which is like a two hour trip from here, well enough to even talk about it. That amazes me.

I don't want to move there anyway. I just want to know what sort of option it is.

Anyway as all the corn and soybean crops across the entire US are LOST this year, I know that things are going to get horrendously expensive and that's a factor. And my imagination supplies the rest, where the whole center of the country goes baking dust bowl and everyone evacuates like the zombie hordes, moving east and west and north. I want to be where I'm going to be before anyone decides to get out of the middle. Also I don't want to cross the middle while it's so freaking hot.

Remind me to get the freon checked and charged in the car.

I'm on the verge of mapping out a trailer on paper, measuring my furniture, and seeing how things will fit in. Things like this are why I don't sleep. I'll lie there enumerating pieces of furniture in my head, even though it's not actually possible for me to list things like that in any complete way without doing it on paper and looking around the house for all the things I forgot. Who can list their furniture in their head completely and accurately? Every stick of it? Well, I don't believe you.

I have a nice tidy picture in my mind of the car with the kayak and canoe on the roof, bike rack on the back, trailer all neatly wrapped up in tied down blue tarps, happy dog and cat and me faces at the windows, but getting things to that point is taxing my stress-o-meter. And anyway I'd much rather take the truck and be done with it. IF POSSIBLE. Which it might not be.

Then I'm like, "Wrap the cellos in bubble wrap and blankets and put them in the boats! But then the Ag Control people at the borders of Oregon will think I'm smuggling drugs or bodies or something and make me unwrap them. And then they'll search everything and find the orchids and I'm toast."

Ag Control in California confiscated my carrots once. Carrots that said on the bag that they were grown in California. Those people are not messing around. But then sometimes they're not even there. So.

Okay, so put the laundry in and get to work. Leave the dog home and run errands en route to babytown. Knit hats as fast as you can and mail when they say mail. Wash the muslin again just to quiet the stupid shrieking gerbils and be sure. Keep packing, keep scrubbing adhesive off things and pulling nails and staplegun stapes (seriously, someone stop me with the staplegun!) and spackling all the holes. Keep going to Goodwill and dropping things off. Call the women's shelter and see about donating all those clothes. Drop off the electronics at Best Buy. Jump up and down on the trampoline for a while or ride the bike, breathing permitting, of course, if that will help calm the outfreakingheit. And take a dang Claritin.

One more week, seriously, and a lot of this will be resolved. I THINK. Which is good because otherwise sayonara marbles from the sheer logistical stress of it. And. You know. THAT ain't right. Dun dun!

Friday, July 20, 2012

Moose Tracks

First of all, did you know that there's regular Moose Tracks, which is vanilla, and then chocolate Moose Tracks, which is, you know, chocolate?

I did not! I just grab whatever one says Moose Tracks and skitter out of the nearest store. Every time--and I get ice cream so infrequently, there's a long lapse in between--I think, "Wasn't this ice cream chocolate last time? Huh." Or alternatively, vanilla. I'm always confused. I thought either my memory was useless or Moose Tracks changed all the time. Like maybe chocolate during mud season and vanilla during snow season?

No, dude. It's written right on the label.

Such a revelation!

My jobs today are as follows:

1) mow the far part of the lawn, which is like a foot high now due to NOT DOING IT
2) go drop off the electronics to be recycled at Best Buy, including the Tivo I brought from L.A., shhhhh
3) go to JoAnn to replace the zipper the dog chewed up yesterday that I never got around to putting on that tiny sweatshirt
4) go to the library, return books, get out some more more more!

And probably go buy non-white food. I ate cottage cheese with a banana and some rice cakes today. You know Gwyneth Paltrow is shivering delicately at the thought. At least the Moose Tracks was accidentally chocolate, right? Not white!

Oh yeah and see if I can get the car inspected. Must call ahead. He's probably too busy on a Friday.

Online Job just DOUBLED for next week so I'm suddenly frantic to get things done and out of the way. Even though it'll just be double for one week, then back to single.

I accidentally got salt-free multi-grain rice cakes, as if such a penitential food needed to be even more free from pleasure and flavor and even less easy to chew with my remaining teeth.

Hup hup! Go go go!

Man, the dreams. Moving into a whole new house, organizing every single thing and putting it all away, even ironing every garment. Oddly, there were no books. Where were the books? And I had a history exam to study for and some paper to write! But I had to organize the house first!

Though I did lie awake for a long time trying to be sure that the unbleached muslin I'm using for the quilt has been washed. If it hasn't, the quilt will be ruined. I've already cut some squares. So I'll examine the far end of it and see if the threads are all bunched up and tangled. Odds are extremely good that I washed it. I mean, I'm 99% sure. It doesn't feel like it has sizing in it and the folds weren't store folds.

This is one of those things that the pills I'm only half taking really did a good job at squashing. Oh well, I'd rather write books.

Plus HOLY WOW my ANKLES are back! All of a sudden! My shoes are falling off! What a bizarre side effect! Though probably it's not confined to feet and ankles come to think of it. I had to tighten up the straps on my weird blue sandal/hikers that are boots except all mesh and velcro and stuff! They're the weirdest shoes ever and I love them so.

Yes! That's them exactly. I had to pull those straps many clicks tighter!

Apparently they're for biking or skateboarding or something? I dunno. I got them for like $5 at DSW when my old boots wore out because I loved them because they were so strange. And airy and ventilated! Hiked up Mt. Hollywood in those shoes. Got a lot of dust in my socks.

I watched the movie Paul last night. It was extremely good and made me burst out laughing. Nothing but Pegg/Frost movies makes that happen, why is that? Like the people down the road were probably like, "Okay, what's funny?" Fabulous movie! And Nick Frost got to be the smart one for a change! Now I'll have to rewatch Hot Fuzz. I just cannot see that movie enough. And Mr. Filch is in it, you know.

Oh, I have a ridiculous thing to confess. When I'm being all chicken, LIKE NOW, about something normal like mowing the grass or going to the store (add to list: pick up prescription, come to think of it) I keep hearing what Harry Potter said to Slughorn in the movie when he was being all scairt. Actually I think it's identical to the book. "Be brave, Professor." Well, if you say so, Harry Potter. I will try.

We who are about to mow salute you.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

First of all, this

This is a fascinating article. I think it basically says eat some sugar, right? I'm going to eat some sugar.

Not really.

But I did just put the dog in the car and GO OUT to get ice cream. And en route stopped at the little park by the creek! I'm going to take him canoeing from there and want him to get at least a little used to it.

Except! As we were exploring on the big rocks and mushy creekside goo, he got all yodeling and delighted because he saw two people coming through the woods! Two people who looked startlingly like me in many respects!

Yes, my dog got hysterical at the sight of a middle-aged lesbian couple and crawled all over the one who was *more* shaped like me, meaning upholstered, including nuzzling his head into her stomach (he was standing on a bench because he's short) and then pushing to stand between her calves. Things he only does to me and has only done to me. Ever. His whole life. Awwwww.

Gawain Dog was like, "Mom! Mom! Mom! It's OUR PEOPLE!" It was hilarious. And he was absolutely right, they looked and dressed and everything exactly like me. We all have the same haircut.

I think that's just about the funniest thing in the whole world.

Puppy also jumped up into the car all three times when told, which he hasn't done pretty much ever--I have to pick him up and stuff him into the car. Good boy!

And when we got home, we went walking around all the Scary Distant Parts of the yard. So good girl, me!

That means I totally get ice cream, you guys. I'm going to press the unbleached muslin and get as much cut for the boring brown/tan quilt as I can. So say we all!

On balance, win

But....withdrawal sucks, no way around it. Imagine going off that stuff completely. Yikes. I'm just shaky and weird and BOY am I hyper-focused on things.

For example, I sorted all of my screws, nails, anchors, wall hanging hooks, washers, thumbtacks, etc. And I mean all of them, into little separate niches in one of those bead boxes. In fact I sorted all the screws by size, too. But not the nails. So maybe all hope is not lost.

Nails are hard for me to pick up. Arthritis in the hands is bad for tiny things. So there's that.

Then I went out and tied up all the droopy dragging peas with the selvedge I've been saving for years. And I mean, there was blue linen selvedge from that dress I sewed for my birthday in ooooh, 2008. I'm sure there's more selvedge somewhere, too. But I'll need it for the tomatoes, unless the cages do a really good job.

And I shoveled all that dirt I dug out of the extra digging area back into the hole. Order, order, order!

So anyway.

Shaking, doing some super OCD type stuff, but also getting things done, man! Tying up the peas is awesome! Should have been done weeks ago! Sorting all the hardware! You know you want to be able to go get a washer when you want one instead of digging through all that loose poky stuff.

The dreams are pretty ridiculous, too. Huge epic dreams of church suppers and weird hats and my old friend from high school, the Marine, who was *at* the church supper and who I asked all those Marine questions. Ha! And an old boyfriend flying a helicopter on this 50 degree angle hillside where I was hiking with some people, only it crashed, we heard it, so we mobilized this outrageous rescue involving elevators inside the mountain and all sorts of things. It goes on and on but I'll stop.

Vivid, is what I'm saying. Vivid, very very populated (which my dreams normally aren't) and full of over the top action and adventure! And some not very good church potluck supper food, unfortunately, on paper plates.

I got all excited at the public access cable end of year lunch that time because it was so very church suppery, those same pans of rolls and all. I got to go because I'd worked closely with the people there, letting them take my screenwriting class for free, giving talks for them, and of course that year I had all those boys making movies all the time. You know. The ones featuring a) my car and b) a minor role where I played the mean mom. Hee. I should watch those again one of these days. And get reminded why I don't have waist-length hair anymore.

I went to a lot of those Sunday evening potlucks at various Lutheran churches around the midwest, is what I'm saying.

Okay! So I need to harness the resurgent OCD-ness and take pictures of the following:

1) all those large heavy whacking/chopping tools I got from my late uncle
2) all those hats I made, so I can mail them off tomorrow
3) all those knives, swords, machetes, hatchets, hammers, etc. from my late uncle
4) I dunno, the garden?

Here I've been going on and on about the garden since APRIL and never posted a single picture. Partly because it was such frelling hard work to dig it all down to 2-3 feet but you can't really tell by looking. I mean it doesn't even look like a big job. BUT IT WAS.

Has anyone read the Percy Jackson books? I seem to have the first book in the second series or something. I can't really get into it but maybe you can tell me if it's worth sticking it out. Mostly it makes me want to unpack my Harry Potter books. I didn't tape the box up--I know myself too well for that! In fact there are four boxes of Absolutely Crucial Books that are not taped up and are still on the bookshelves.

Some of them have HEARTS on them. Like: Joan Aiken [HEART]

I talked to D. for just about forever last night, including the whole plan A of store most stuff and go with a trailer soon, versus plan B of wait for, well, B, and go with a truck not as soon. I didn't really pack that way, though, see. Like I packed exclusively for plan B. So plan A might involve a lot of scissors and re-taping, but that's okay. I'll manage.

Percy Jackson kind of shoots a hole in the secondary story I was going to do with the Apollo book but that's okay, I never liked it much anyway. Truly. Mmm, grapes. Sweet!

I want to go play racquetball (whack whack whack!) and shoot my bow a lot and go play basketball and play darts and all sorts of throwing/aiming/arms type things. I only have six arrows, can you believe that? The box says a dozen but I never quite realized I only have six. I wonder how much they cost? A person should have more than six arrows, dang. Also the box says GLUE YOUR NOCKS OR YOU WILL DIE except I've never glued my nocks and for all I know the box is from some other arrows entirely. So I think I have a fairly comprehensive visit to the gun store coming up one of these days. (The piece on the end that the bow string goes against. It's a little metal job. I guess if they're not glued on they could go bwaannggggg right into your eye with great force since you release the string right there by your face. Ow. Where are my goggles? No, I know where they are.)

And I need to make a case/sheath for the machete as well as for the rifle. The machete is wicked sharp and totally rusty which is a bad combination, eh? I wonder what I can use for a case? I've always seen heavy canvas for machetes. It needs a new grip, too. It's all falling-off electrical tape. I'll use racquetball racquet tape, of course. Blue! And stands up well. And does not fall off.

Hey, it's my machete now.

The box of knives is going to blow your minds. I really am going to sell some of them. Speaking of the gun store.

I love arrows, oh my goodness. It's an aesthetic thing. It's the feathers. The, uh, what's the word. Fletching!

In all this packing, I keep finding huge turkey feathers everywhere. Speaking of feathers and fletching. I suppose I'll keep them. They used to be everywhere on my lawn, when I had a bird feeder and no dog.

Anyway pictures coming up. I'm hoping to feel more normal in a couple of days. I can't remember how long it took last time, when the old doctor refused to refill my prescription unless I came to see them (NO) and I had to go off it. All I know is when I took it (the half) last night I went all limp and nodding and alarmed the dog. Before that I was writing writing writing. Yes!

So that really does work, I'm so very glad to report. Oh, yay! Stupid pills! Maybe I can stop taking them entirely next week when I see the medication specialist! I sure hope so! Though I feel awful enough to last me for a while, heh. I don't like being pharmaceutically jerked around. I find it obnoxious enough that food can make me feel good or hunger make me feel bad. Though tea, of course, is the nectar of the gods so I don't mind that.

Speaking of throwing/aiming/arms type sports and activities, in this Percy Jackson book, the kids who are claimed by Apollo are super good at all of those. It's one of their specialties, with music and languages and all that. Just throwing that out there! With deadly accuracy! Apollo!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Thump on head with book; repeat

Well, the books were taken internally in the traditional manner, but I still feel like I've been thumped on the head with them. Thumped in the head. Since I'm using them as anaesthesia, that's okay!

I just started my third book of the day. At this rate, I'll have to hit the library again tomorrow. Which is a good thing. I'm supposed to go out and do stuff. There's some errant vitamin D prescription I'm trying to track down, too, but with so many questions attached, like:
a) am I supposed to keep on taking it?
b) if so, why don't I have any renewals available?
c) and can I get another one?
d) and does it cost a small enough quantity to make it possible?
e) and when can I get it?

I think I had more questions than that. But that'll do for now.

This latest book is based on the tarot somehow which no doubt will make it utterly suck just like every single book based on the effing faerie/seelie court utterly sucks. Your opinions may vary of course but I've never yet seen a single even slightly good thing done with either. Never ever. Awful dreck, bleah, argh--and by otherwise good authors, too, which fascinates me. I think the subjects just drain the life out of any other story.

I did just read a book with a faerie character named Padraig Seeley. I groaned and said, "Oh, no no no," when he appeared. But he was the only one and there was no endless *explaining* or *exploring* of the faerie realm. Nor endless boring party-type scenes where all these people who will live forever eat and drink things and make small talk and are sarcastic and arch. BLARGH.

I've never yet read a good eternal-life story, either. Or even really super long life. Why is that? Is it because no one can imagine it properly? Or they haven't put the time into imagining it properly? They're always so predictable and dull.

I did just read a surprisingly great book called Snap about a girl whose family goes utterly broke. They lose everything and she goes from a total spoiled brat to a person you'd actually want to hang out with. It was great. I especially liked the changing focal length type thing where we saw all the same things at the beginning, middle, and end, but they looked completely different each time. I love that. I love seeing character change through major changes in how they see the world. Isn't that amazing?

It was better than its writing, or something. A lot of it bugged me. The one I just read bugged me a lot more, though. Sheesh. It was called Kill You Last and was one of those plotty twisty mystery things that tends to end chapters with someone getting bonked on the head.

I hereby pause so that you can point accusing fingers at me about Tethys. I know! I know! I know, okay? Bonk on the head!

Oh the shame.

Also spoilers ahead.

It also (Kill You Last) featured a gross statutory rape dad you're supposed to feel sympathy for and a murderer mom. I mean, they were the main character's dad and mom! SO GROSS! Plus the dad had statutorily raped her classmates and they were all hugging and stuff. I think there is a serious failure of imagination and/or grasp on reality here. Would you, as a teenage girl, go find and hug the girl your age that your father exploited and had sex with? I seriously doubt it would ever happen in this here planet earth.

The book was also full of stupid texting abbreviations that nobody uses. I cannot even stand that. Maybe The Young People used it ten years ago or whatever but they do NOT use it now. It's like trying to show coolness with brand names or whatever. Oh please don't do it! You don't know how that will translate in even one year! You can easily call something "the most expensive juice in the most expensive store" or say she gets it delivered special from the city, the truck comes once a week. Brands are a sign that you think your social markers are everyone's social markers and I am here to tell you, from the backwoods of Maine, that they are NOT.

So anyway. Gosh I got wrought up about that, huh?

Other than reading all the books, I vacuumed the house finally, go me! It's been, oh jeez, I have no idea. Far too long. Though we track in so much grass and whatnot so fast that the floors and rugs look awful in a matter of days. Which is a reason to do it MORE often, not LESS often.

Um, and I spackled a bunch, and then wiped down the spackled places. Do you know to do that? I learned it by accident. After you spackle--wait, before you spackle, push in the spot with the butt end of the putty knife, so it's slightly dimpled in. That's because nail holes and especially screw holes are slightly pushed out from the wall. So push that in. Then spackle. Then like ten minutes later, swipe across it with a damp cloth. It removes all the excess and makes the whole thing practically invisible.

You can do it to old dry spackle too. In case you were wondering, "Hey, can I still do it to old, dry spackle?"

This has been your informative spackle interval.

And then I scrubbed more tape adhesive off things. The front door and door frame, to be specific. There's practically no end to the adhesive I have to scrub off things. Seriously, it goes on and on. And on. And on.

And then I made tuna salad. I nearly didn't because opening the can whapped me in the face with fish smell and I almost made the dog and cat eat it. I'm so squeamish about meat/fish/dead things lately! Well, the ones I'm trying to cook. I'm all trimming the chicken with my face turned away. Oh oh oh, chicken, so slimy and grotesque. I haven't had chicken in aaaaaages. Except that day from KFC. Shhhh. (No bones. Don't even come near me with food with bones in it.)

So I ate the tuna salad and Gawain and Sieg split the juice and now we're all, "Mmmmm, tuna."

The family that eats tuna together ____ _____ together. I have no idea what fits in there.

And then they called to say they're shutting off my cell phone/internet if I don't pay the bill, so I paid the bill, which means paying the car insurance late, unless it doesn't, which would be nice. There are I think three other bills I'm neglecting, not to mention the big ones I'm really neglecting, like the state income tax they sent a certified letter about today.

Man, that mail guy. Of course he knew I was home. My car is outside. And he knows everything else about me because he's the mail guy! He sees what I get in the mail and what I send. No secrets from the mail guy.

My blue hat was busted. I have these rules about colors. No way, some OCD style unbreakable rules? Tell me all about it! Okay, I will! I have on a bright neon green t-shirt I got for volunteering at the Salem Arts Festival in, like, 2001 or 2002, though it says 2000 because they ran out. It says VOLUNTEER on the back in case anyone isn't clear. But the hats are: 1) pink, 2) dark green, 3) ancient faded blue. Obviously I had to wear hat #3. But it was busted! The catch didn't work so the little strap would slide right out!

That meant I had to go outside with bed hair. And no shoes on because of the shoe rules. You don't want to hear the shoe rules.

So later I fixed my hat that's been broken for YEEEEEAAAAAAAARRRRRS with the blue pliers and the screwdriver I ruined doing the brakes. And now it works! Yay!

Thanks, state of Maine! Thanks, mail guy! Thanks, OCD!

I'm not sure what effect halving my dose is having yet, except that 1) I slept like an absolute goddamn baby last night, 2) things seem much more possible all the time and so I do them, and 3) I seem to be making an awful lot of lists.

In the terrible book today, one of the characters used to work in a plumbing supply store in Salem, Oregon, so I was immediately like, "No way, the one on Liberty? I know right where that is! By the art store and the quilting store!" Then I was wondering what other plumbing supply stores there are in Salem, like down on Commercial or wherever.

Then I realized it really didn't matter. But who throws Salem, Oregon into their book? I thought that was kind of odd. I guess it's perception bias, because people throw all sorts of towns into their books. Scranton was in this one and I didn't even blink. Ugh, Pennsylvania, I can't stand that place. I know, I know. But it's so grim and awful and dreary and miserable.

Unlike Salem, a place I love! I was agog at the bananarama, how nice and pretty and well kept up it is, though it is the most incredibly confusing place inside, which seems like a cruel joke on the visitors, who have varying degrees of confusion to begin with, but then I realized it's because my only other reference point for a bananarama is the old state mental institution in Salem, where they shot One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. So you know what that looks like. Except forty years older and run down and neglected because I don't think they use it anymore, do they? Anyway it looks like hell.

At this place there's a big sign that says ECT Building. It really bothered me because that's such a common misspelling of etc. Even though I know what it stands for and all, my eye goes to it and I get all itchy trigger finger with the red pen about it.

I had nightmares about moving in with my best friends back in Salem last night, with about twelve little disturbed foster kids and my friend D. and of course Lee Pace. I kept clinging to him and trying to keep him from leaving. It was one of those houses that's been changed and updated and renovated so many times, there are infinite odd spaces and strange doors and peculiar angles of floors and ceilings.

My favorite part though was that I kept clinging to Lee Pace with my arms around his middle and my face pressed against his tummy, so that if he tried to walk, he had to drag me along with him. That totally cracks me up. Don't leave me, Lee Pace!

He didn't. He stayed. Yay!

He was really good with all those wacked-out kids, too. We had the whole upstairs to ourselves, with all the odd dormer windows and niches and closets and bathrooms that overlooked the freeway and other weird elements.

Guess what came in the mail from the mailman who beeped on the driveway and got to witness my dreadful bed head? Dead Like Me! Yay! Netflix, I mean. I have to buy it one day. Anything you get multiple times from Netflix obviously ought to be OWNED.

I love reading all these Poor But Honest books. The Make Lemonade series is the best for this because the mom is so tough about doing it right so you get where you want to go. I have to remember to give my invisible Marine that trait. The one day the main character wants to stay home from school EVER because she's completely heartbroken, her mom starts yelling and asking if she likes blue. Do you like blue? What do you think about blue? And when the girl finally pulls it together to ask why, the mom says she's going to spend the girl's college fund on a car and stop taking two buses to work every day and she thinks blue would be nice for a car. What do you think? How about blue?

She gets up and goes to school.

I don't know, books like that make me SCRUB things. And do the dishes. And all that good stuff. As opposed to lying around, thumping myself on the head with books.

Those are such good books, I always forget they're written in this kind of verse form that isn't verse. That usually bugs the crap out of me but these books are too good.

I really should write the book about my invisible Marine. Everywhere I go, I meet Marines lately. Retired. That's who bought half the stuff at my yard sale. I'm a fan since forever. I should talk to or rather interview some recent ones some day soon. Don't you feel like that's a Helo story waiting to happen? I know! I love the part where you do the thing to write about the thing that's only in your head and it makes the real thing happen.

Except I can't imagine how I'd go about such a thing. Call up the Marines? I feel like they'd send out their poster boy, though. You wouldn't get through. Oh my goodness, can you even imagine the ma'am-ing that would ensue? I would get so thoroughly ma'am-ed. Now I'm trying to imagine planning to *run into* Marines, like a research stalker. That is a hilarious image. I imagine myself sitting all terrified in a venue frequented by our always faithful be-camo-ed ones, with a notebook, my face red and sweating. (That's how I look any time I leave the house lately, for real.) Odds are that someone would come over just to ask what was wrong. "Nothing!" I'd squeak, spilling my tea.

Is there a cross between Helo and Lee Pace? Or are they actually essentially the same guy? They are, aren't they? Sigh, blink blink blink, hearts in eyes.

Here is one last image for you. Yesterday the dog and cat and I spent all day post-appointment sitting on the bed or else taking epic naps. Well, at one point, Gawain dog was lying there upside down with all his paws in the air, and Mr. Kitty leaned over and chewed on Gawain's back claws. It's true, they are too long, so I certainly understand the impulse, but have you ever seen interspecies nail biting before? I have not! It seemed like such a sibling-y thing to do.

You will be glad to hear there have been no coordinated bunny assaults today. SO FAR.

So what do you think, halving the dose isn't making me CHATTERY or anything, is it? Huh, huh, huh?