We fought with all we had

Tyler passed away yesterday.

It was absolutely heartbreaking - he woke me up because he was crying. When I got him out of the crate, he had definately taken a nosedive. We tried to rush him to the emergency vet clinic - not to make him well, but to stop all of this madness. Mom didn't think he was in pain, but we all knew he was so far from himself, and so worn out from fighting, that there was nothing that could be done for him at that point except for putting him to sleep.

My sister drove us, and, unfortunately, he didn't make it. That's the first time that anything has died in my arms. It was quite frightening.

My only regret was that I didn't spare him those last few moments of fear.

But it's over, and he did go on his own accord, saving me any doubt that he could have "gotten better" had I waited just a bit longer.

Whatever he had was obviously bigger than the both of us. To go from perfectly healthy less than a month ago to what he was yesterday just astounds me.

But I do believe that he came into my life for a reason - and he did help me through a rather dark period in my life. He kept me going. And now that the storm is over and "rebuilding" is well underway, it's like his assignment was over.

I just wasn't prepared for how much I was going to miss him.

Reworking myself

I hope everyone is having a pleasant season.

Mine has been a rough one so far, what with my cat becoming extremely ill and draining me of money. I am giving out very few Christmas presents this year, but everybody understands.

Though having the budget cut to bare bones has actually been a blessing. Christmastime usually sees me buying one "present" for myself for every present I buy another person. And it's usually stuff I don't need.

But with all that's happened, I've been able to take a hard, long look at my finances. It's not dire, but it could use some work.

And it makes me so glad I quit smoking 3 months ago. That habit was costing me $210 a month.

And after some good think time in the bathtub last night, I got to thinking about how smoking had shaped my spending habits.

Yes, I'm serious. I'll explain to the best of my abilities.

When I smoked, I felt like a hyporcrite. There I was, spending $7 for a pack of cigarettes per day (sometimes it was cheaper if I went to Indiana, but that rarely happened), and it wasn't doing me any good. Meanwhile, I didn't (still don't!) have health insurance. I knew the money could go toward different things. I knew that NOT smoking would benefit me so, so, so much.

But there I was. And somewhere in my brain this kernel formed in my subconscious - "Well, you're throwing your money/life away on cigarettes, don't track what you spend too well, 'cause then you'll see what you spend on cigarettes and you'll be a failure!"

But then I quit smoking, and continued to NOT track every dollar I was spending. And then this thought formed in my head, "Well, you quit smoking, so you have more money to spend on 'deals' you see!"

Then Tyler got sick.

And then I started to look around at all the things I owned, and I saw a bunch of things that I had purchased that I didn't really need, but were on sale. Not tons and tons and tons of it, but enough for me to realize that my behavior needed to change. Besides, having too much stuff sucks. If you've ever moved, you understand why!

So some positive has come out of this whole ordeal.

I'm one of those people who believes that, as long as you learn something, no experience is ever a waste.

New bank!

So, I meant to get to my bank today before they closed. I erroneously thought they were open until 7, so I waited until 6:40 before I went out there.... and they were closed.

No worry, I can make a deposit via ATM... right? This method has been around for a while, so I can do it, right?

Luckily, it was idiot-proofed, and there was nobody else in the vestibule, so I didn't feel rushed. Felt mighty proud of myself, too.

And then I got home and made a call to the new bank, because I was supposed to receive a "welcome kit" with checks in it. I was told if they didn't arrive within 10 business days, to give them a call. So I did.

At one point I thought I had been put on hold, so I found Tyler and started talking to him. Nothing incriminating, just a, "Hey buddy, howya doin' today? You seem to be feeling better," and then he'd get complain-y and kind of squawk-y.

Then I heard her typing, and realized she could hear me having a conversation with my cat.

Luckily, she was also the type who had whole coversations with her animals, so nobody suspects that I'm completely mad.

Damn right my eyes are puffy!

My cat has been sick for over a week now. This weekend he was showing signs of improvement - but that was by peeing everywhere. He'd stand with his front end in the litterbox, and then piss, or he'd squat inside the litterbox, or, and much more often, he'd lay down and pee, in small amounts, then get up and move and pee again.

Often this laying down and peeing happened on my hardwood floors.

You can't let cat piss sit on hardwood floors. It sinks into the wood and you forever have that catbox smell in your house, unless you have a professional come in and actually remove the boards that were peed on.

I work in the restoration field, I know what the fuck I'm talking about.

Saturday, I was okay with it. I thought it was good that he was draining his bladder, even though it was small amounts all over the fucking place. I figured he'd feel better and he'd use the litterbox properly. Sunday it was starting to get old. Today I stuck him in the bathroom - he's still doing it - pissing in small amounts all over the place. On the tiled floor, in the tub, wherever.

I have been real good about giving him his medicine since Friday night. The only reason why I had been lax before that was on a few mornings where he didn't eat breakfast. The vet and all assistants were adamant that we don't give kitty antibiotics on an empty stomach.

Fuck that. Kitty is not going to get better if I'm only giving him antibiotics 1/2 the time.

Besides, I know my boss is real understanding and all, but being 1/2 hour to an hour late for work to give kitty medicine? I'm supposed to be keeping a roof over our heads, here.

I just want to know when he's going to be getting better, what signs I need to keep on the lookout for (good or bad), anything I can do to help him. I know keeping him locked in the bathroom isn't helping him, but I'm going absolutely nuts cleaning up after him ever 5 minutes. Or, even better, stepping in cat piss. And just because I have cats doesn't mean my house has to smell like a goddamned catbox.

Cat, just get better!

Sunday morning

Weekends need to be longer. And they need to make pills easier to give to cats.

But there are still plenty of things I can get done, the sky is blue, the weather has warmed considerably since Friday morning, and I have marshmallows.

I just threw in the marshmallow bit to round out the sentence, though I really do enjoy marshmallows.

My african violets have finally been repotted - they've needed it for... oh, about a year now. I'm lucky that I picked such forgiving plants.

I think that I am going to try to bake a loaf of bread today. It's something I've wanted to do, and I really think I can do it.

I've also got to write a letter to my sister who has just entered the Navy. I'm not really expecting much in the way of responses, but I know that those guys really look forward to letters while they're in there. I'm also going to go about and find comics and fun newspaper clippings to send her, too.

It was kind of weird last week - something shifted. There had been some lingering bickering and such with some of the sisters, but last week, it's like it clicked weird, as there has always existed some drama and/or politics. It had been lessening these past couple of years, I moved out, and then Eileen graduated from college and also moved out, leaving the twins with Mom and our stepdad. We're not around each other enough to really grate on one another's nerves, or touch/move one another's stuff (or suspect it).

Oh, and there's a surprise lurking in the family as well. I'll post it some other time, because not everyone in the family is aware of the surprise, and they have to be notified in person. :)

Gripes

The following things irritate me:

1 - Last night I had to take one of my cats to the emergency vet. I damn near hit 2 bicyclists who decided it was okay to run a stop sign at a decently busy intersection. Had I not had a cat in the car that really needed to see the vet, I would have chosen to assert my right-of-way and taken one of them out. But I didn't want to be tied up with the cops and shit with an upset cat in the car. Plus it really isn't the right thing to do. Frustrating, yes, but I understand there is a real possibility that I could kill someone. I promise that my rants about hitting inconsiderate bicyclists, while angry, will not materialize.

2 - Cat is still at the vet. He was kept overnight to make sure his urinary tract wasn't obstructed. I was told to call either before 8 a.m. or after 10 a.m. because there is a shift change between 8 and 10. I called just after 10 to get a status report and I was told that he was affectionate (suprise), eating dry food, refusing wet food (dude hates wet food. He'll only eat that if there's nothing else to eat), was about to get a "treatment," and then I was told to call back after noon, because they were doing a shift change.

I just want my freaking cat back.

3 - The back stairs were not cleared off after Friday's snowstorm. All of the walkways are clear. But (and this is just my opinion) I would think that slipping and falling on icy stairs would be worse than slipping and falling on an icy walkway. I slipped, but caught myself. Then I sent my landlord an email about it, telling him I slipped, but that he should probably see to those steps before someone falls and actually hurts themselves. I mean, keeping walkways clear is one of his responsibilites, right? .... I called 311 - they say it's the landlord's.

Ugh. Sometimes I feel like the biggest pain in the ass when it comes to being a tenant. But he outsources his work most of the time, and he should know what's going on. One of our favorites was that he had been redoing the bathrooms in the building. But he had some friends do it. Whatever - I don't care. Except none of the grouting has been sealed. It kind of needs to be sealed, you know, so it lasts longer. We've brought it to his attention, and nothing has happened. Which is fine by me, really. Just as long as he doesn't try to charge me for damage or anything ridiculous.

And then of course when it's cold here we have to call him and let him know it's cold. Unfortunately, last time this happened, he was out of town and not returning messages. I didn't know that and called the city.

As a renter, I am not asking for much. I would like my apartment and the common areas to be safe and comfortable (68 degrees is comfortable, and completely reasonable). I just wish I didn't feel like a freaking pest when I call his attention to matters.

I have a Christmas tree

It is made entirely out of lights.

I can't find a picture of it anywhere, though.

Wait - found it!.

I'm pretty sure it was more intended for the outdoors.

But it's in my living room.

As for ornaments? Paper cranes.

It's a good tree, and nobody will eat it!

Even when she's wrong, she's right.

Had a brief discussion with my mother last week about decorating for Christmas.

I want a tree of some sort. Not a real one, just a small fake one. My issue is my cats. They eat things they shouldn't. A cheap fake Christmas tree is just begging to be gnawed on and regurgitated in the middle of the night.

Mother suggested hanging it from the ceiling. I thought, "That's not what I want to do!" but I thought about it for a moment. It would definately be unique. I could still put lights on it and stuff; it would be different and cutting edge!

But I just did some looking around, and apparently the upside down tree is "in" this year. Also, it is apparently a tradition in central Europe - so it's not "cutting edge." Fine with me, I just have to figure out how to attatch it to the ceiling.

Experimenting in the kitchen

I made cookies tonight. Toll House recipe, right off the back of the bag of chocolate chips.

Turned out pretty well. I've got a little problem with the actual baking - I know they cook for a bit once you take them out, but I'm not sure what they should look like in the oven when they need to come out. "Golden brown" is subjective.

And I took the last bit of dough, mixed in some mint extract, and made those.

All around, very good. Not a failure.

And now, here's Craig Ferguson talking about the new James Bond and the witchcraft that is microwaves.

Enjoy!

Two things. Okay, maybe three....

1) I have been told I am a crafty gal. I agree to an extent. I have made scarves, afghans, glued pieces of paper together, purchased a sewing machine, done some cross-stitch projects, etc. in my lifetime.

It's in my blood. You should meet my mom. She's the one that started all of this. Well, actually, one could argue that it's her mom's fault, and then blame her mom (we still have doilies from my great-grandmother somewhere).

Anyway, I'm trying to put it all in one pile. I live in a one bedroom apartment and my art supplies are scattered everywhere. So that is tonight's goal - get shit in one place. Not put away, but all together.

2) Organize the paperwork. I need to buy more storage (cardboard boxes will work just fine).

3) Tom Skilling is predicting some shitty weather for the next 24 hours. Best thing to do when weather gets shitty - bake. Again, in my blood. Mom didn't do it every time the weather got bad, but I do remember the weather being shitty and it smelled awesome in my house.

So I gotta stock up on food. I'm running low anyways. But do I do it tonight at the 24-hour Jewel or tomorrow morning? We'll flip a coin later.

Screwed.

I've been living all by myself for about a year and a half now. And when you live on your own it's good to have a little tool box with a few essentials - hammer, pair of pliers, box of assorted nails, couple of screwdrivers. These things have been a great thing to have around. You never quite know when you're going to put something together and you'll need something. And of course, any kit you get will give you a few extra screws and whatnot, just in case.

The amount of screws I have amassed in this short time is astounding. And of course, when I need screws to hang a shelf, I can't find one in the right size.

Kind of a pain in the ass.

New Year's plans

Yep. Discussing them already. I was invited to one on Halloween, and that one sounds fun.

The other night, I was out with some good friends, and we discussed a New Year's party.

Tonight, a friend of mine said something about doing something for New Year's.

The first party is a costume party, and it sounds fun. The second one is with people I know and love who really, really rock. I mean, they really, really rock. They rock so hard, that people who suck disappear. The third one really isn't a party. So that means its flexible. Or something.

I think I'm just ready to be done with 2006. I think everyone else is, too.

Couple of things

Watching Chicago Tonight. Well, more like half-watching, mostly listening and tidying up.

They mentioned an interview. Didn't hear who it was. Walk past the TV and stop.

*squint*

Huh, that dude looks familiar.

*squints harder*

Ooh, he looks real familiar. Kinda like our lawyer. For some reason I'm feeling ten years ago.

*squints real hard, tilts head to the left*

Holy shit, is that Richard Marx?!? Dude! It is!

So, Richard Marx was on Chicago Tonight.

I was also made aware of an organization in Chicago called The Enterprising Kitchen. It's a nonprofit organization that helps women get back into the workforce. They market spa products, and if you know me, I'm a sucker for smelly soaps and the like. I'm in love with this idea.

Election day today!

Which means, that as of 7:00 pm tonight, NO MORE NEGATIVE ADS! I'll be honest with you, when all of this started I was all gung-ho about it, but now, I'm just damned sick of it all.

Oh, and my landlord... I called him yesterday, because the plumbers were supposed to come out and fix the wasteline so my sink did not empty into my downstairs neighbors' kitchens. I wasn't sure what time the plumber would be coming out, and I just wanted to know because I had a lot of dishes piling up. And I refuse to do my dishes in the bathroom (those drains are already slow, and yes, they were rodded about a week ago). I talked to him, he said the plumber would be there by 5, and he would call me when he was done.

I got no phone call. Went for my walk, and continued to wait.

Said, "Fuck this," at about 11, did some dishes, was very careful with my water usage.

Get a call today at about 9:30 am. It's the landlord. He tells me the plumber was out last night, and it's okay to use the kitchen sink now.

Am I glad shit got fixed? Yes! But he could have called me a bit sooner! Because, you know, I absolutely love it when my kitchen is overflowing with dirty dishes.

Oh. Emm. Gee.

I cannot get over how freaking tired I am.

Got to bed uber-late (early would actually be the appropriate term, since it was 5 a.m. the last time I looked at the clock). Ashe decided to have the coughing/sneezing fit to end all coughing/sneezing fits at about 7 a.m., so that kept me up. I have never heard a cat make such noise. Poor guy. Found some of his and his brother's leftover antibiotics from earlier this summer.

This is annoying as hell, though. Dragging both of their asses to the vet when all they need is some antibiotics seems a bit ridiculous. Tyler seems fine, but I wonder if they're both carrying the same bug and Tyler keeps reinfecting Ashe.

Anyway, so cat kept me up. Then, Riot Fest.

I think it's safe to say that I am not cut out to go through an entire day's worth of punk music. I was there to support my friends' band, mainly. They were great, as usual.

At 5 p.m., I called it quits, came home, fell asleep on the couch for a bit, and woke up tired.

I'm just going to quit while I'm ahead and go to bed now.

One day I will have a 100% good day

Today was close. It really was. Went to Ann Taylor Loft today. In my younger days, I avoided it, 'cause I considered it "yuppie." But I am sick of dressing like a 17-year-old in denial of her figure. I live on my own. I have two cats. I am a grown-up.

Anyway, got the suggestion off of a website/blog that I am a fan of. I don't frequent it every day, but I usually drop in and drool over the purses a few times a month.

**side note**
I own one - it's awesome, I've gotten tons of complements.

Anyway, so I checked out this store on her suggestion.

I bought only one pair of jeans ('cause that's the last one they had in stock), but I was so happy they fit and they didn't look like leggings (I have found that stretch jeans look like leggings) and they were just awesome. My ass didn't feel uber-huge.

Good times. I will be online purchasing one or two more pairs, and then redeeming the $25 off coupon(s) in a few weeks.

ROCK!

Then I get home, do dishes, hang out, mess with the cats, eat dinner.... get a call from the landlord.

He had been in the apartment under mine, and their kitchen sink was overflowing. Apparently there is a block in the waste line (presumably), and as a result, my kitchen sink drain was flowing directly into their kitchen.

Now, landlord has been out of town for a few days. I asked how long this had been going on, and he said he was just notified about an hour ago. I should mention that I called him 5 or 6 times and left messages regarding the heat in the last few days and he has not returned those calls.

I have a feeling this has been going on for a few days. I feel a bit bad, 'cause I have this tendency to wash my dishes in the middle of the night.

Imagine waking up in the morning to a puddle of ick in your kitchen.

I'm telling myself not to feel bad, 'cause it's not like anyone attempted to tell me anything. Hell, chances are they didn't know exactly where it was coming from.

Long story short, I can't really use my kitchen sink for a few days.

So the landlord thing has really been the only damper today. Yay!

Jingle bells, jingle... wait a minute....

Yep. They're playing Christmas carols on the radio.

At least they waited until Halloween was over.

But, still. Couldn't we have waited for it to be closer to Thanksgiving?

Well, I guess it's okay. I've decided to attempt to be "smart" about holiday shopping this year and do it via the internet or craft shows or whatever.

And to do that, the key is to start NOW.

Everbody is getting a unique gift from me. Maybe not expensive, but unique.

I would expect everyone else who is thinking of getting me a gift to do the same. And they can add practical to the list. I really am fine with getting socks. I wear socks. Laundry detergent would be amusing as well.

UGH!

People confuse the living hell out of me.

I thought that by not dealing with boys, it would get easier.

But now everyone confuses me!

I've gotten a bunch done, my day is planned out (sort of. I have a "To Do" list), and I'm showered... all by noon!

I'm not dressed, though. But I'm squeaky-clean!

One more thought before I go to bed

Where forgiveness is impossible, it is still hard to live with.

People piss me off

They do.

They really do. Especially the types that are not like me. The people who are scatterbrained and can get away with it.

And then there are the types that don't listen. That don't pay attention. That just don't get it, and when they do, they're like, "Ooohh, I see what you mean! You mean X!" Yes, and I said X THREE DAYS AGO!

Then there are the Captain Obviouses - they piss me off. "Got a new desk, eh?" "Did you get curtains?" "Did you get your hair cut?" Questions that are begging for smart-ass answers.

Then there are the living echoes. The dicks who repeat what I just fucking said.
"Sorry, I have to stay in and get some work done."
"Oh, you gotta do some work, huh?"

"My sister joined the Navy and is shipping out on December 5th."
"Oh, your sister joined the Navy, huh?"

"I'm helping a friend move today."
"Oh, so you're helping someone move today, huh?"

I feel the need to mention that the Captain Obviouses and the living echoes also smoke more than their fair share of pot. And that causes my patience with the drug to wear thin.

I want to grab these pot heads by their shoulders and scream, "YOU ARE REALLY PUSHING THE DEFINITION OF RECREATIONAL!"

Another type that pisses me off - they're related to the first group I mentioned - are the people who obviously cannot read/count. I know the supermarket is busy. I know the lines are long. And I believe this particular establishment has a particular policy regarding asshats who walk into the "Express" lines with 2 cartloads of fucking food. This policy - don't say anything to the dumbfucks who can't read the sign that says, "Express Lane, 15 Item Limit." Just take care of them and send them on their way.

But I guess that's what I get for doing my grocery shopping after the Bears game. Had I gone during, the store would have probably been a lot more agreeable (read: less people).

The world is against me

Buying things is sooooo much easier than saving money.

Stuffing your face uncontrollably is much easier than eating healthy.

Attatching one's ass to the couch is much easier than getting up and doing something.



I will say this - I am glad I am a once-in-a-blue-moon pot consumer (I hate smoking it). Lack of ambition sucks by itself, but add weed to that, and you may as well just pay to have your brains siphoned away.

Today's going to be good, though. Real good.

To that dude...

I am writing you off as a figment of my imagination.

It makes me sad, but the whole thing was in my head, right?

Tomorrow will be so freaking productive that you will throw up!

Haircut at the salon (better get directions now and print them up and put them by the front door!)
Hit up DMV - renew/update license
Buy a city sticker (see, we're gearing up to buy our own car insurance, and while I love the suburban rates, there is a such thing as fraud, and I'd rather not go there)
I should eat at one point.

And I'll be going to my mom's to hang out with the fam and do some suburban shit.

Since I have made my list for tomorrow, I should probably crawl into bed.

Gotta be up early for stuff!

Jack had to go...

The pumpkin has started to funk. So I stuck some candles in him and put him outside. It was for the best, really.

I am also starting to drift towards a real interest in quilting. I mean, my mom's been into it for a few years, and I really admire what she does. I've stayed away from it because, well, it's her thing. I just worry I'll come in and annoy the living hell out of her or something.

Boy, typing all of that out makes it really irrational, huh?

Especially since she got my youngest sister into quilting. It's completely different from what my mom does, though. Mom is more traditional, whereas my sister does what I call "freestyle quilting." It's really neat. My sister just kind of makes up a pattern, goes over it with Mom (who can forsee issues and whatnot), and then makes a quilt.

Though my sister has had a discussion with her art teacher about quilts - is it two-dimensional or three-dimensional?

They agreed to disagree.

I enjoy late evening. I feel like if I get anything accomplished at that time is a major accomplishment, 'cause you're not normally supposed to accomplish things late into the night.

DONE!

The Doctor Who scarf is done. I didn't officially measure it, but it's got to be about 12 feet long. I may make another, but something way more reasonable. Say, something that isn't 14 inches wide and 12 feet long. Hell, I have leftover yarn, why not?

Halloween rocks

I eviscerated a pumpkin today.

Did quite well if I do say so myself. It looks kind of like an angry Jack from "The Nightmare Before Christmas."

I know it's early, so I'll probably pick up another one (or two!) and carve them in about a week or so.

Also, 3 candles makes for a nice effect.



I was going to roast the seeds, but with a different recipie. And wouldn't you know, it called for nutmeg, and I don't have nutmeg! Well, not ground nutmeg. I have the whole stuff, but I don't know what parts you're supposed to grind.

How do I not have nutmeg? I have witchhazel, sulfur, sea salt, fennel... but no nutmeg?

Whatev. I'll fix that tomorrow.

Also, there are folks out there that disappoint the hell out of me. People who are excruciatingly random and brief in contact. I don't know what his deal is. I shouldn't care. I'm guessing it's the whole growing up together thing. But hey, I'm pretty random and sometimes antisocial to the extreme, so I'm just going to take it easy.

I know it's not "that time of the month"

Today I was overcome with this extreme hatred.

I tried to move past things and forgive... but it's been slowly tilting in the other direction.

I mean, I was used, but after mulling over conversation... he said he didn't want to date anyone, and he apologized for giving me that impression, yet a few weeks later he started seeing someone.

You want to know how I take that? I take that as, "I wouldn't date you because you're too ugly/dumb/fat/awkward/uneducated/weird. I will, however, fuck you when it pleases me to do so. I know you had a thing for me and would come when I call, but I wouldn't give you the time of day."

I do not like being what the fat girl and the moped have in common.

May he rot in hell.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again, people who came off as really awesome have proved me wrong yet again.

*shrug*

On another note, living in the city has caused me to really miss the stars. I never see them anymore.

Well, it’s a good thing we have a little over 2 months left!

I think I have figured out the “theme” for this year.

Some (not all) people who I had immediately pegged as really effin’ cool have revealed themselves to be varying degrees of mundane to awful.

And then, people who I had seen as alright have revealed themselves to be really effin’ cool.

See, the really effin' cool people don't need to reveal themselves straight off the bat.

On another note, I believe I am a compulsive knitter. Really. I've knitted over 6 feet of scarf in one week. I would have been farther if my local craft store had the green yarn I needed - that put me back about a day and a half. So... I've done 6 feet of scarf in, like, 5 days. I can't stop. Meanwhile, the house is going to hell. That can be easily fixed, though.

It's also really cold outside, yet my heat is not on. I will have to call the landlord tomorrow and inquire about that. It's 33 degrees outside. Well, the wind chill says it feels like 33. It's actually 41. But still! COLD IN MAH HOUSE. But not that cold. 65 at my old apartment was considered tropical, so I better stop complaining. :)

Finally un-hibernating

Got the laundry started. Listening to WLUW, ‘cause my friends’ band is on tonight. I’m not impressed with the DJ. I know, I don’t have any formal training as far as DJs and all, but after listening to my sister (who has a bachelors in broadcasting) criticize DJs, I’ve picked up a thing or two here and there.

Been exhibiting extreme anti-social behaviors these last few days. I don’t think I’ve really interacted with another human being since Friday. I dogsat this weekend, and made a trip to Ikea, and that was it, pretty much.

I think it was the Ikea trip that put me over the edge. It’s not that I don’t like large groups of people, it’s just that I can’t stand the rudeness. You know, people stopping in the middle of aisles to answer cell phones, totally oblivious to those trying to get around their fat asses and their fucking carts. My favorites are the ones that I say “Excuse me,” to, and they just give me a blank look. Then there are the dumb shits that don’t watch where they are going and just hit you with their cart and they don’t even apologize.

It’s passive-aggressive, and I feel that I cannot avoid it unless I go on off-peak hours.

But that’s over now. Bought some shelves and candles and a giant jar. And a spaghetti grabber.

I really have to start thinking about Christmas shopping. This Christmas shall be the unique Christmas, where people will get gifts that they would have a hard time finding. I hope they’ll like it. Just because I like the offbeat and handmade doesn’t mean everyone else will appreciate it.

*shrug*

The lightning bolt of realization

They never tell you what to say and what not to say. You pretty much have to figure it out. Or get girlfriends to share information with you.

But if you're me, that doesn't happen.

See, we seem to not ever say what we mean. Not constantly, but at times, we're left guessing. In fact, there are codes that are pretty clear. "Want to come over and watch a movie?" means "Wanna fuck?" I'm fine with this one, 'cause if a dude called me up and was like, "Wanna fuck?" I'd probably not go over there. Especially if I just maybe want to make out, and not fuck.

Ah, but then what happens when you just want to do what you said?

Here's where that can be a problem. Once upon a time, I invited a guy over for dinner. I just wanted to have dinner, relax, have a pleasant evening. No sex, no relationship talk, just hang out. Well, I got stood up. Of course. If you knew the guy, you wouldn't be surprised. But I digress.

What got me thinking was this article on the web - "10 Dating Lines Decoded." Of course, the dinner line was on there, and it translates to, basically, "Wanna fuck?"

Not what I was after. Now that I think about it, he's still a huge shitbag, no matter which way you slice it.

Time for yet another walk

The weather today is a bit chilly, it's overcast and grey, and kind of dank.

Perfect day for a walk.

Not just any walk, an impromptu walk. One of those, "Sure, I'll walk with you to the corner to get cigarettes," but it turned into, "Say, since we have smokes, wanna keep walking? There are some cool houses over yonder."

We were gone for about an hour. The purpose of the walk was to look at all of the beautiful buildings.

I had a good time. And I wasn't winded at all.

Confessions of a sort.

If you had met me about a year and a half ago, you would have heard me curse the very existence of 3-ring binders and clear plastic sheet protectors. From what I am told, the mere mention of the word, "binder" would trigger a slight facial twitch. I didn't know about it, but I've been informed.

But now... I have come to the realization that those things are damned useful. Really. Print out a recipie from the 'net, slip it into a sheet protector, and you don't have to worry about mucking up the paper. Or having to print out another one (we're trying to NOT be wasteful). They're great for knit/crochet projects, too. Have 'em all in one place. And if you have sample cards from yarn vendors, stick those in a protector. I also went out and bought some for business cards so I had a place for all the business cards I pick up at craft shows. They live in the what I call "project" binder.

I dig the business cards - I only take them from vendors I'm interested in, and I really dig the designs. They're art in and of themselves.

I'm a huge fan of organizing in general. This past weekend my house got an overhaul. I went through everything. Not everything has a place just yet, but we're working on that. I strongly believe that my current attempt at smoking cessation had something to do with it. I'm pretty fucking fidgety, and smoking was part of that. But now I can find ANYTHING in under 3 minutes. Except the remote. I can never find that bitch.

Late...

I do believe I am going to run myself into the ground tonight.

I'm having trouble hunkering down and doing it. I feel as though I have some form of ADD that just prevents the concentration I need.

But I wasn't always this way. About 2 years ago, I was perfect. Could concentrate, do mind-numbing tasks for hours, my heart was in one piece...

FORWARD!

Walk with me

Last night I went out to mail some letters and buy some cigarettes. It was a 5 minute walk, at most.

But I bought my cigarettes and just kept on walking.

I had been meaning to check out Logan Boulevard for the longest time. I've driven on it, but it's hard to appreciate the houses when you're doing 25-30 and watching for cyclists. Plus there are loads of trees - the only way to truly appreciate the boulevard is from the sidewalk.

Man, I loved it! I didn't walk terribly far, 'cause I had to be home for a conference call, but I did get an eyeful. Most of the buildings seemed old (as in, built before 1950, but I don't know enough about architecture and the like to properly date things), and you could tell that some of them were definately built as multi-unit dwellings. Some looked like they might have been big houses at one point. There was tons of grass, and trees, and interesting curtains, and huge beautiful living room spaces. I wasn't trying to look into these apartments, I was just admiring the front window setup. Some windows had stained glass accents, and some had Frank Lloyd-Wright inspired windows (they could have been from that era, but what do I know?). It was great. I like the neighborhood feel.

But what kills me is that we have pockets like this all over the city, but they're not connected. To get to these "islands" you often have to cross busy garish main streets. The intersection of California and Diversey is not a pretty intersection. You have the Olympic Carpet store (which is closing) and their delivery trucks marked all over with graffitti, the Mobil station and it's lack of landscaping (I mean, it's clean and orderly, but not very attractive compared to Logan Blvd), a Popeye's Chicken, and then the highway. It's noisy, crossing the street is a bitch (people taking right-hand turns think they have the right-of-way), and it just feels chaotic.

It's weird.

Oooh, and I just found out that there's a store within walking distance that sells lots of meat. I'm making goulash tonight, so this will be an awesome night!

I don't get it...

When I need someone to talk to, I have no problem finding it. I love it, and I always wish I could reciprocate.

But everytime I get the chance, I feel like I fail miserably. It's like I swear I'm coming across as disconnected and weird, like I'm not listening. But I am. And I don't know how to tell them that I'm listening, and I feel the old cliches just suck. I hate hearing them, and I won't say them to anyone else.

So when it comes down to it, I feel like I suck horribly at it. I know what I like, what I want and what I need, but I have no idea what the other person wants, likes, or needs.

This sucks.

And I'm amazingly tired right now and would just like to sleep for a few hours...

Marijuana

Like anything, it's great in moderation.

I sometimes partake in it's stupefying effects.

But one thing that bothers me is people who get high all the time. If they smoke it, they're useless (and quite annoying) to me for about 2 hours. After that, they still have a buzz, but they can interact.

I couldn't figure out why this bothered me so damned much. I mean, I felt like a hypocrite, hating it when people get high, when I do it myself from time to time.

And it's not like I hate all people whenever they get high, if it happens every now and again, I'm fine with it. Or there are potheads out there that I see a few times a year, and they don't get on my nerves.

What specifically gets on my nerves is people I interact with on a regular basis that get stoned out of their gourd and then interact with me. When they're straight, they're fine. But it's when they're stoned at least half the time is when I get my panties in a bunch.

And I thought on this and pondered and ruminated. Why would something like this bother the living fuck out of me?

Then it hit me.

The reason why it bothers me so goddamned much is because my father, a majority of the time, was not "with it." He was mentally ill, and he self-medicated. So as a result, he was basically high. He was there, but not really there. He'd look at you when you were talking to him, but you could tell that your words were not connecting with his brain.

I didn't fully understand everything at the time - the illness, the self-medication. All I understood was that this fucktard was NOT FUCKING LISTENING. At all. My sisters would be doing something I deemed bad, and I'd run and tell him, and I'd talk, and when it was his turn to respond, something that had nothing to do with what I just fucking said.

I HATE THAT.

Stoners do the same fucking shit. But they get high and then seek your attention. Why, I don't know. Wallpaper would be better suited, and wallpaper is a lot less likely to get annoyed than I am.

So they find you, and they do this stupid fucking attempt at interaction, and whenever you try, you get talked over and ignored.

Seriously, if you're going to treat me like a goddamned inanimate object, fuck off. Go away until you come down a bit into reality. Then I will deal with you.

Grrrrr.

Yet another adventure

Albeit a small one. They all seem to be small ones. But that's okay.

My car has been sick-ish lately. It's the exhaust system. It's falling apart.

They showed me. It is falling apart, moreso in some places than others. I agree that getting whole chunks replaced is preferred to getting, say, a six-inch section of pipe sawed off and welded. Because as soon as you patch things, other things break, and then it's another trip to get another section sawed off and welded. I have a friend who has expressed some dissent on replacing whole chunks, 'cause of the cost.

I think the idea is pretty solid, and I do think the cost is exorbitant. I was told that the total to replace it all would be about $1100. But it would run a hell of a lot better.

But $1100? Crikey.

So, as it stands, I need to get it all replaced, and soon. But not tonight.

Tonight I have to head on down to my sister's place. Do I take a car or do public transit?

I'll probably take the car.

Let's hope she doesn't fall apart on me.

This made me laugh so hard....

This post showed up on that thread I had posted about earlier. It's by someone named "Murphy."

I heretofore shall refrain, so as not to insult any culture or group of people, from using the following phrases:

English muffins
Canadian bacon
Irish coffee
Brazilian wax
Mexican jumping bean
French fries
Swedish fish
easy-peasy Japanesey
Chinese fingertrap
Mongolian barbecue
Siberian gulag
Chilean sea bass
cheese curd (can still write, but not speak it, people might get confused!)
Scotch
Italian ice
Philly cheese steak
Danish
going Dutch
slaving away at _____
Muay Thai
Ottoman

According to research I did on the internerd, I found that each of these phrases could be interpreted to be derogatory. I urge all of you to make the same pledge. Respect.


I laughed my ass off.

Fucking internet

80% of the time it's a good thing. You can find anything you want. You can buy stuff, learn things, communicate with friends, and even wank off if you're so inclined.

10% of the time, it's bad. Kids can get themselves into tight spots. Hate is preached. But I accepted a long time ago that free speech is just that - free. We don't have to like it.

5% of the time it's a royal pain in the ass with all the viruses out there and such that make my computer sick.

5% it's just fucking retarded. Specifically (and this doesn't encompass the entire 5%, but it's in there), when people argue over the names we give things. The latest - a seemingly innocent question regarding an Indian Summer.

This website attracts a few people who get offended at the littlest things. Personally, I do not find "Indian Summer" to be a an offensive term. As a child - I loved it when it happened. It was always good feelings - we used to pick apples off the tree, we'd play outside, get our last chance at playing outside without wearing coats. It was nice. It was awesome.

But people are honestly offended over the term. I really wanted to say to them, "Okay, if you feel so fucking bad about it, why don't you pack up and go back to Europe." But I didn't, 'cause I had heard a similar phrase when I lived in the south suburbs. Only it was directed at African-Americans, and, really, had I used any variation, it wouldn't have solved anything.

One of my favorite quotes is - "Arguing over the internet is like competing in the special olympics - even if you win, you're still retarded."

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Sometimes I feel like I am constantly operating on the fringes of everything.

I'm never directly involved with many things, yet I know a lot.

It's kind of fun, really. Observing, not getting involved, being behind-the-scenes. Speaking up on a rare occasion is fine. Also, I've googled myself many times and have found absolutely nothing.

I used to hate it, I used to feel ignored.

But it's so much fun to sit back and be amused now...

Another letter to that guy

I still think of you, but totally out of habit.

That's annoying.

Things I think you should see

I like art in general. Some of the stuff I don't get, like the 10x10 foot canvas painted entirely black... but whatever, right? Just because I don't get it doesn't make it any less important.

But one thing I'm really getting into as of late is art made by people I know. Or even people I don't know. I mean, I'll never own anything by Edvard Munch, but that doesn't mean that paintings by people still alive today are any less special. Famous artwork is one thing, but stuff made by people who care are special, too.

I went to a craft fair this weekend, and saw work by an artist by the name of Joanna Wright. I can honestly say that I am smitten by her work. I bought a small painting from her. It's a cherry tree that lives in her backyard. It looks strangely like my pomegranate tree on my leg. That's part of the reason why I fell in love with it.

I love all of her artwork - it's really spiffy. It kind of reminds me of Ed Gorey, but not as dark.

I'm also attempting to commission artwork from friends that do artwork, too. It just makes my house that much more... special. Adds a bit of magic, if you will.

But check out the website, it's pretty pimp.

Wha?

Sometimes I feel like someone needs to sit me down and explain things to me slowly, and in small words.

For instance, today and yesterday I went to a craft fair. There were lots of people both days. Dogs, too, which I really enjoyed.

In addition to a lot of people, there were many babies. All of them adorable. The vibe at this craft fair was such that any baby that made eye contact with me got at least a smile if not a "Hello Sweetie!"

BTW - I am a fan of babies.

Anyway, one thing that struck me today was how I had spent a total of 6 hours at this craft fair and not once had I heard a fussy baby.

Yet every single time I go to the grocery store (unless it's after midnight), there's always some child SCREAMING somewhere.

So someone needs to explain what happened at this fair that kept these babies quiet.

I did notice that many of these babies were being held in some form, whether it was one of those carriers strapped to an adult or being touted about by an adult. Those that were old enough were ogling everything. Being an adult, I can totally vouch for them. Lots of colors, shapes and even smells. Maybe it was the highly social atmosphere. Everyone acknowledged the fact that they were human beings, despite the fact that they were pint-sized versions. Adults and children alike got some form of greeting.

Grocery stores do not have that type of atmosphere. It is decidedly less social for one - people go there to ignore the hell out of each other, even the humans they brought with them. And the parents were definately different between the two places. Grocery stores are full of soccer mom types that are more focused on doing the shopping and viewing their kids as an interruption most of the time. This fair was definately more interactive for all involved.

It gave me some insight to child rearing. I decided today that when the time comes, the child will be an integral part of my life - but through their eyes. The world through a child's eyes is definately different. It's all small things, seemingly trivial things.

The big picture really is made up of all the small things.

Make the most of it.

When things start moving in an opposite direction...

When it rains, it pours.

And I'm not talkin' about salt, folks.

To that guy

Fuck you.

No, seriously, fuck you.

We have established that you are not my friend, and I have NOT forgiven you. I was hoping I could one day. I don't think that's possible.

I want to call you up right now, and scream at you. I want you to feel as miserable as I am right now.

I have always prided myself as the type of person who could take punches, and then get right back up again.

But you know what? You struck me down so far that every time I feel like I'm getting somewhere I just fucking backslide until I'm back to square one.

You selfish fucking prick. You're a sociopathic child.

You knew me for as long as you had and you didn't even know what kind of person I was. You were just focused on your own needs and wants.

Well, congratulations, you've managed to completely shatter my self-esteem. Not that there was much to destroy. In fact, it was such a small target I'm surpised you hit it at all.

You have managed to accomplish the same demoralizing affects as rape.

Yes, I said it. And, yes, I know exactly what I'm talking about.

You've apologized a thousand times. The damage has been done. Funny, you fuck things up, and I am left to pick up the goddamned pieces. I have to put everything back together, I get to clean up. You treated me like shit, and I felt like shit for fucking weeks. I felt nothing but ugly. And all the while you were silent, while I just got more toxic. I was so moritfied, I felt like I couldn't talk to you anyway.

I still feel ugly.

I fucking hate you so much right now.

I just wanted you to know.

I don't mean to be a bitch here...

...but seriously, get off my balls.

And say what you mean.

How I have been lately.

Summed up best by this song

Damaged by Plumb

Dreaming comes so easily
’cause it’s all that I’ve known
True love is a fairy tale
I’m damaged, so how would I know

I’m scared and I’m alone
I’m ashamed
And I need for you to know

I didn’t say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can’t take back what you’ve taken away
’cause I feel you, I feel you near me

I didn’t say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can’t take back what you’ve taken away
’cause I feel you, I feel you near me

Healing comes so painfully
And it chills to the bone
Will anyone get close to me?
I’m damaged, as I’m sure you know

There’s mending for my soul
An ending to this fear
Forgiveness for a man who was stronger
I was just a little girl, but I can’t go back


And that's about it, folks. I've wanted to talk to him, but I know it's a total waste of time. I don't want to see him or talk to him ever again. Things are very different now.

I wish I could make more sense about it, but as time goes on, this shit just gets buried more and more. Soon there will be nothing to speak of because it really will be gone.

I... want to multiply myself sometimes.

I am not a terribly exciting person. I'm just not. It's not a problem for me, I manage to keep myself amused.

But of course, social events seem to wildy occur simultaneously with one another. It's a pain in the ass. It's one of those things - I want to be in several places at once.

So, what to do?

Well, I've already made a committment, so I'm pretty much screwed.

But one must go with the things that are more lucrative.

Missing the past again

Seriously. I miss certain things. I was ignorant to a lot more than I am now.

I do value knowledge and learning and all that, but it's nice to have room to dream, ya know?

But I have no idea why I'm so hinged on things pastor why the nastolgia of a certain period draws me in so closely.

Looking back won't help me go forward, and forward is where I need to go.

I'm thinking that maybe it's just the time of year. Last year I was really bad around this time. Just, really bad. There was this guy that I was totally in love with - to the point where I was dreaming about him. In hindsight, I've decided that I wasn't really dreaming about him, per se, but dreaming about my ideal man. But at the time I had not come to this realization. I was screwed up - thinking that I was dreaming about him for ethreal reasons. Like that maybe there was some sort of cosmic connection between the two of us. But that was not the case. I know what I want in a significant other, my subconscious had just happened to put his face on it. I dreamt about him again - not the boy, but the subconscious man of my dreams (so to speak), only this time he looked like Keifer Sutherland.

Works for me.

I was also really depressed this time last year because I had lost my job. And it wasn't due to downsizing or the failure to do my job - it was for reasons that were immoral. Seriously, everytime I bring them up to someone who is new to the story, I get a puzzled expression and a genuinely confused, "WHAT?!" I had gone into a four-month, very deep depression. When you think you are doing such good in the world, and then you find out that you were used... talk about losing faith. I lost a lot of faith, and I haven't gotten a whole lot of it back, either.

But I've managed to distract myself fairly decently as of late.

Yet another thing that pisses me off.

The grocery store - AKA - "The Den of Unbridled Rudeness."

Seriously, I feel like I'm going into combat every time I go grocery shopping.

I fucking dread it. I'll usually end up going shopping in the middle of the night, when there are less people around. But I'm not terribly excited about doing that. There are several reasons. For one, there are fewer people to help you out should you need it, there is usually only one checkstand open, and usually there's nobody at it.

I do realize that between the hours of 1 AM and 6 AM there are very few people shopping there, hence the scarcity of help. It kind of sucks. But it does suck less than dealing with hoardes of people.

Also, once you get the groceries home, you have to unload them, and at 2:30 in the morning, this isn't cool. Not like it's horrid awful bad, but, on the scale of smart things to do, it's kind of in the mid-to-low range.

What is the worst thing about it? I can sum it up in a word: Obliviousness.

There are two kinds of obliviousness - honest and feigned.

Honest is when someone is taking up 2/3 to 3/4 of an aisle staring at the tomato sauce trying to remember how many cans they needed for that recipe they were going to try tonight. They don't notice you. You say excuse me, sometimes more than once, and when they hear you, they honestly jump, and promptly get the fuck out of the way and even apologize.

Then there's the "Feigned Obliviousness." This is much, much more common than the "Honest" variety, and it pisses me off. It is a great example of straigt-up passive aggressiveness. Take up the whole aisle while looking at fucking toilet paper. IT'S TOILET PAPER. And then after saying "excuse me" several times, they simply move a few inches. Or they'll look directly at you, and then barely move.

Or my favorite, let's bring baby to the market DURING NAPTIME. And when she screams, we ignore it. Listen lady, I don't know how you parent your kids at home, and quite frankly, it's none of my business. Here's what I want you to understand - you are in a public place. While you may be able to totally ignore the screams of your child at home (and seeing you here doing it - you make it look like a goddamned art form), WE THE PUBLIC SIMPLY CANNOT TUNE HER OUT. Do something about it. Take her to the car till she calms down or something. Seriously, I've been listening to the child scream for 10 minutes, I am getting close to belting the next person to get within 5 feet of me, and that is not acceptable behavior.

A mild pissed off point - every time now when I go to check out, we've bagged my items, I'm getting my receipt, and the cashier has to tell me "Have a nice night Ms. Balmmdfifshmmwamler." I know you don't do it 'cause you want to, they make you do it. But really, it's an impossible last name. Just... don't. Leave it. Please. No, don't ask me how it's pronounced. I'll tell you and you'll butcher it even more. Really, let's save ourselves the time and effort. And please, no cracks about "marryin' a different man next time" or "findin' a man with a shorter last name."

This aversion to the supermarket is a bit of a problem at times. The food levels in my house get dangerously low. I don't usually notice until I realize that I've polished off an entire package of english muffins in 2 days because there is absolutely nothing to eat in the house.

But I know I'm not alone in this feeling. More obsessive than most, but I am constantly validated.

And I need to go shopping again.

Amused

Coffee - is the planet shaking or is it just me?

Some days all I want to be is a Missing Person.

It's all fun and games until someone gets poked in the eye with a dick.

Bands I love

I really love Snow Patrol and Keane.

I first heard their stuff on Virgin Radio back when I worked evenings. I loved it, ended up purchasing the albums a year later (and by that time they had gotten big here), and fell in love with the entire thing.

So now they have new stuff out. I am probably going to purchase it soon.

It's good stuff.

I just wanted you to know that I know..

Sometimes I do make myself depressed. That's not the intention. I get nostalgic, start looking through things, and then just get really sad.

I just look back and realize that I took things for more than face value. And I'm not talking that I was wildly reading into things, I'm talking that I thought I was a friend, but I was no more important than a stray piece of paper on the kitchen floor.

Eh, but then I tell myself, "It's always been that way, don't let it bother you," and I feel a little bit better.

Burning the midnight oil...

Doing a bit of work tonight. It's good.

The weather is similar to that I experienced in Portland, Oregon. I miss that place. I remember right before I left, I prayed that my broken heart would heal. We're still working on it. A broken heart is not unlike a shattered bone. It takes a while to put the pieces back where they belong, and that can be painful in and of itself. And then it takes ages to repair itself. And it's never quite the same.

But it is cool out tonight. Cool and rainy. Good night to pull out the ol' down comforter.

The cats are doing well. We got a pretty decent amount of couch time in today, and I think that's what they really need.

Finished up "Black Adder I" today. Pretty darn entertaining, if you ask me. Can't wait to get the rest in to watch.

Dear Garbage Pickers,

First off, I would like to declare that your digging through my building’s dumpster does not make me think less of you. I understand that we sometimes throw away things that we don’t need, but you may find useful. I think that’s great, if you can keep a few items from going to the landfill, more power to ya.

Here’s where I have a problem, though. This evening, I went out to my dumpster to throw out some trash. I looked on the ground in front of the dumpster, and found a whole shitload of used cat litter on the ground. It was the clumping clay kind – you know, the kind that gets wet and becomes clumpy. And you know what? I have a feeling it was my cat litter that I threw away a few days ago. But that doesn’t matter – what matters is that while you were digging through my dumpster for a new wardrobe, you came across a bag of cat litter, and you THREW IT ON THE GROUND.

Let me tell you a few things. One, DUMPSTERS ARE FOR REFUSE. True, there may be useful objects in there, BUT THERE IS ALSO TRUE GARBAGE. Used cat litter, rotten food from the fridge, dead plants, food wrappings, and, since there is definitely more than one woman in this building – PERIOD GARBAGE! We put things we no longer want in the dumpster so it can get taken away. You have probably lived in a structure, created garbage, and took it out of your house, so you have some idea as to what might be in our garbage. If you are willing to dig past all of the nasty stuff to retrieve a few things, than fine, BUT IF YOU COME ACROSS SOMETHING DISAGREEABLE, LEAVE IT IN THE DUMPSTER OR GET FUCKED!

Thank you.

The Pet

Hm, didn't know they made that...

The internet is an interesting place. The stuff you can find is mind-boggling.

I would like to share with you a strange product that I found.

Go see. Really, you'll be glad you did.

Once in a while...

Usually, I am just fine with being single. I've been single for 4 years, I'm pretty used to it by now.

But every now and then, I feel like I'm going to be single forever, and I hate it.

*sigh*

I've been patient for a long time now.

Whatever.

Totally forgot to mention

The pothos and the philodendron. They're up really high where the cats can't get to them.

Currently Growing

Geraniums
Sanseveria
African Violet
Assorted Orchids
Basil
Oregano
Parsley
Rosemary
Jade Plant
Lipstick plant
Hoya
Aloe
Christmas cactus

Had a dill - cat ate it and then barfed several times, so I chucked it.
Got a "Friendship Fern" from my cousin, can't determine exactly what it is (it's not a true fern, I know that much), might be a member of the asperagus family, in which case it's toxic and needs to go. The damn thing is enticing, they look at it and walk up to it and they start with the munchie munchies, and I have to chase them out of the bathroom (that's where the plant was living, with the door shut, till I could maybe figure out what it was).

Okay, says aloe is poisonous (I knew that, but no one is bothering it).
Geraniums poisonous, but nobody's bothered that one.
Oh, look at that. Rosemary's poisonous. Fuck. I didn't know that! Nobody's bothered that one, either.
Looks like I'm going to have to haul a few things into the bedroom. The cats really aren't allowed in there. Well, they are, but they can be asses about it.

Plants that are being bothered are the sanseveria - aka Snake Plant or Mother-In-Law's tongue. Specifically the one living on my kitchen table next to the computer. Ashe likes to get up there and rub his face on it, and bite it a little. It gets my attention! That's probably why he does it.

Still, I prefer cat quirks to human quirks.

Things I don't quite understand

I feel the need to elaborate a little bit on my last post. Ric-rack, specifically.

Seriously, folks, I don't get it. I don't know. Growing up, my mom had tons of it, and since we were crafty kids, she'd let us use it. We'd look through her old craft books fromt he seventies, and everything had ric-rack on it. In retrospect, I think she ws just trying to get rid of it. As we grew older, I saw an old television show where the kids had ric-rack on the bottoms of their bellbottoms. I remarked that it never looked good - how in the hell was it ever popular? She wasn't sure, she was never really fond of it either.

Now, I know I trash ric-rack like it's nobody's business, but in reality, it's not all that bad, especially in small amounts. But gratuitous use of the stuff makes things tacky. That and I have a personal aversion to it. So if I see something with a little bit of the stuff on it, my natural reaction is, "Ick - tacky." Even though it's really not. That's just me. So anyone reading this who uses ric-rack in their projects, don't hold it against me. In time I will accept it as a creative element, though it probably won't ever be a preference of mine.

I need a sewing machine. I've needed one for awhile. I haven't purchased one because... well, I don't know much about sewing machines. My mom knows TONS. She even has a few. Yes, a few. She quilts, mostly, but I've seen her make other projects - curtains for my house, clothing, bags... lots of things. Mom makes quilts, and let me tell you, they are truly works of art. And it's catching on, I have a little sister who is doing some "freestyle" quilting, and she showed me, and it's beautiful.

Anyway, sewing machines. I do not know what features I need, and I'd hate to buy one and have it give me nothing but problems (it's happend to my mother), plus I'm TERRIFIED that I'll get one and use it once or twice a year. That's a lot of money to spend on something you won't ever use. But then again, driving out to my mom's to sew something isn't what I want to do, either.

My head feels like it's crammed full of stuff and I can't think straight. I need to create, dammit, and if I don't, I'm sure I'll have a stroke.

Creativity boils...

Certain things that make crafty = crappy:

Overly obvious
TACKY - and not good tacky.
Ric-rack (I hope the person who invented this is no longer cranking out ideas, because of it was a pretty bad idea), the more the worse.
If it is quilted in the same fashion as a top of a mattress - it's icky.
If it's made from seashells. Seriously, who needs a wreath made out of seashells?

Certain things that make crafty = awesome:

Demanding a second look
A certain unconventionalism (<--probably not a real word, get over it)
Element of surprise (but not the exploding kind, save that for birthdays)
If you want to eat it, or maybe nibble or chew a bit.
Unique! Something unique!

Something that is nice, unusual, different.

We're getting there, I promise.

The week has ended

I am wondering what this night will contain.

It can't contain too much - I do have stuff to do tomorrow morning.

I did install a plant hook in my shower area. One down, three to go. Maybe I should install all of them tonight. Just to say I got all of those things off the ground. My bathroom is getting ridiculous.

My dreams are also getting ridiculous. Most of them are taking place in my house. It's weird. I've also just up and stopped interpreting. I'm tired of it.

And that guy that messed things up for a while? Yeah, he hasn't been in my thoughts nearly as much. It feels really good.

I miss that feeling of catching fireflies when I was a child

My small piece of reality has been lacking magic as of late. Small burst here and there, but not nearly the amount that summer should contain.

I think it may have something to do with the fact that I'm feeling a little purpose-less.

I'm not creating.

Bits of my life are getting away from me (not trying to be vauge, I'm just saying that I'm a bit behind in the cleaning and my house is not as organized as I'd like it to be). My house needs decorating - pictures and shelves up, curtains hung...

Fashion-wise - eh, I wish I could dress better, but I am lacking in the motivation. I have to mentally prepare myself for shirt shopping. If you've ever met me, you'd know why.

I also would like a haircut. Nice new style. I just feel better, ya know?

The root of this problem is lack of motivation. And the problem with that is by doing nothing, the house gets crappier, and I lose more motivation, and other things fall by the wayside.

Sometimes I wake up terrified that I'm going to turn into one of those "hoarders." If you don't know what a hoarder is, google it, and click around. I personally know a couple of people like this. Here's why I am terrified of becoming that - since I personally know these people, I understand some of their philosophies. Not on house cleaning, but on being a bit forgetful and forgiving and procrastinating. They, however, are champions and giving too much of themselves. I am merely just okay at it. Really trying to reign that in. I have had the fortunate experience of being taken advantage of. Some people do it on purpose, others do it subconsciously. The ones who do it on purpose are actually rare, and I can spot these people a mile away.

The subconscious ones... they're a bit harder. You don't always realize it's them until you've given 10 times and they have given 0. And by that time, there's a fair bit of resentment.

I am a giver, especially when it's someone I care about. I tend to care about people too quickly sometimes. It is not a bad thing. Now that I think about it, it's actually turned out well most of the time. That's why it takes me 10 times to realize that someone's an "advantage taker." I give the benefit of the doubt. Ah, but once I realize I've been had... oof, that hurts. I remember shit like that for a looooong time.

But yes, my world needs some magic. And I have a bottle of absinthe. I am not expecting to trip balls or anything, just looking for things to become a bit more... vivid... for a little while. Break up the monotony.

Peevish...

Other things that piss me off, but not very highly, and in no particular order:

Giving pills to cats.
The south suburbs of Chicago.
Finding cats on the refrigerator (this isn't bad by itself. But knowing they walked on your counter to get there does).
Finding cats drinking out of the toilet. Fucking "Ew!"
Freight trains.
Pop-ups.
Myspace pages that are decked out to the point where my computer completely locks up.
People who manage to mispronounce my FIRST name.
Shirt shopping.

And that's it at the moment. Going to go fly around town and do stuff..

Things that piss me off, part 1

This will actually be the first of many things that chap my ass.

Now, I think it's great that Chicago is bicycle-friendly. People should be able to use this type of transportation, 'cause it doesn't use fossil fuels, and these folks are probably more healthy than those of us that drive everywhere.

Now, what a lot of these cyclists don't realize is that the laws that apply to those of us in cars applies to them, too. Which is good. I had heard that if one hits a cyclist, then it's the same as hitting a pedestrian - which means the pedestrian always has the right of way and the driver of the car is wrong and can get into some big (read - expensive) trouble.

But I did my research, and they are indeed subject to the same rules we are.

And that brings me to the meat of my rant. One thing that pisses me the living fuck off is when I'm at an intersection and I want to make a right turn. I get in the right lane, stop or slow down (depending on conditions), make sure no one is coming, and then as I am beginning to make my turn, some dipshit on a bike whizzes past me on the right. Had I been a few seconds quicker, I would have taken that person out. And then, to top it off, I sometimes get the finger.

Another favorite example - I'm at an intersection, I have the green light to go STRAIGHT THROUGH THE INTERSECTION, and as I am going, some motherfucker on a bike comes out of either the right or the left, completely ignoring the fact that they have a red light, and forcing me to slam on my brakes. Usually I just get a dirty look for that one.

First off, I'm bigger than you. I have roughly one ton of steel, plastic, and glass protecting my ass. If I get hit by another car (and I have), I may get banged up a bit, but the chances of my surviving are pretty high compared to your non-helmet-wearing ass. You would think that asshats on bikes would realize that if a car takes them out, they could DIE.

But no, they ignore stop signs, red lights, cars that clearly have the right-of-way. I'm not saying all cyclists do this, but there are way too many of ones that do. And it shits me because I do not want to add "Involuntary Manslaugther" to my list of Things Accomplished Before the Age of 30.

It's bad enough that you cause traffic to slow because there isn't enough room for us to zip past you, but then you blatantly ignore traffic signals.

While I am all for this super-cheap method of transportation, I am not for the super-dumbfucks that think they're still in the suburbs and can do what they want.

Here we are

So, I managed to spend way too much money last night ordering stuff from the UK. I love the UK, and shipping stuff over is a lot cheaper than actually going there and getting it yourself.

But it's still expensive.

And of course, I'm reading the Chicago Tribune online, and it seems that Britain has foiled a terrorist plot. Apparently, the "terrorists planned to use liquid explosives disguised as beverages and other common products and set them off with detonators disguised as electronic devices. "

I betcha my absinthe is going to get delayed and/or seized.

*sigh*

I just can't seem to muster up worry or fear over this new plot. I'm one of those people who (generally, anyway) will not spend much energy on events I cannot control.

What shits me is that looking back on the past five years, I almost feel like things were supposed to go back to "normal," and they haven't. I guess I'm just used to things eventually going back to the way they were. But it really never happens.

First post... a test

Hopefully I don't eff this up....