I am old and nerdy

moar funny pictures

We had to move the rosaries out of Pip's reach. He knocked over Buddha trying to get one. You'll be glad to know Buddha escaped unscathed.

Not a whole ton to say for myself lately. Well, there's been a lot going on (when is there not?) but I haven't had much time to write about any of it. Dave in 3 bands, though, so I see the amount of writing time in my life hockey sticking. He's off at practice now, in fact, but he left dinner in the oven for me. Good man. I was starving when I got home (god knows why, there is a plethora of free snacks at the office and I get through a lot of mini-bags of Cheez-Its in a day) so it was extra nice to walk in the door and be able to stuff my face without having to wait around while the ramen finishes cooking.

Listening to a Librivox recording of Jane Eyre and am really enjoying it. I've read Jane Eyre before, at least once, but I don't think I've read it in maybe 10 years. Long enough so I'd forgotten almost everything but the salient points of the story: poor governess, rich Mr. Rochester, mad wife in the attic, "Reader, I married him". That's kind of inescapable cultural knowledge about Jane Eyre - I probably knew that much going in the first time I read it. I'd forgotten how events unfold, though, and how much fun Jane's conversations with Mr. Rochester are.

Man, listening to this as an adult, though, I can barely hear the story over the warning sirens in my head screaming, "Get out of there, Jane! Mr. Rochester is crazypants!" I mean, he dresses up as a gypsy and lies to her, he misleads her about marrying someone else, he plans to entrap her in a fake marriage, then he tries to get her to be his mistress, and even after all that Jane's like, "Mr. R! I luffs him so!" That doesn't seem like such a happy ending to me. Her other alternative, the creepy St. John Rivers, is awful too. I don't think Charlotte Bronte had a very high opinion of men. I don't think she knew much about children either - Jane is a governess but her charge is just so boring and stupid.

Anyway. The litter box and some laundry are calling. If I can ever get Lucky off my lap. He's my internet boyfriend and always insists on being in my lap whenever I'm on the internet. I don't know how he knows, but he does.

Whole lotta grooming love going on around here.

in like a lion, indeed

I dyed my hair purple.




Me and my new hair with Zoe.


curly hair in the dining room.


Lucky. He is a pushy old customer from Brookline.

He's our FIFTH cat. Pip was number 4, which was already too many, and then we acquired a fifth. So the deal with Lucky is that he belonged to a blind friend of Dave's. Lucky was diagnosed with diabetes (he's 12 and overweight), so obviously his blind owner couldn't see to give him his shots. So Dave's blind friend found a home for Lucky with another friend of hers ... except that lady was diagnosed with alzheimer's and couldn't remember the shots. So Lucky ended up back at the shelter and since he's 12 and diabetic and overweight, he was probably going to spend the rest of his life at the shelter, except we are suckers and adopted him. Two days after we brought him home, he had a hypoglycemic episode and almost died. After a mere thirteen hundred dollars, though, he was saved, and now he's not diabetic. (For now. Cats are really hard to keep stable. Zoe's back on insulin, for example, but only a small dose once a day. And we've invested in a blood glucometer and checked her blood sugar this afternoon; we'll probably start monitoring them both regularly. If I can avoid any more $1300 emergencies, I definitely want to.)

So five cats is way too many, and it's also an expensive hobby, but Lucky is super sweet. I had food poisoning last week and was running a high fever and generally felt awful, and Lucky was super happy just to lie in bed with me. He totally spooned me. Lucky (totally misnamed, in case you hadn't guessed, but Dave's blind friend's cleaning lady found him in a dumpster when he was 3), anyway, Lucky is really easygoing and gets along with the other cats, apart from Zoe, who hates everyone. He and Pip wrestle - he's the only cat strong enough to kick Pip's ass. Pip is a big boy these days - he was 9.5 pounds at the vet last month and I bet he's up to ten now. We call him "muscle boy" because he's a brick shithouse.


Look how much bigger he's gotten since August.


Pip likes cat TV.


Dave took this photo of Simone. She is his favorite. Technically Simone is still bigger than Pip, but she's a lover, not a fighter, and Pip wales on her ass all the time. (Whales? Wails? I think it's a regional phrase and I've only heard it spoken, not seen it written. Google was no help.) The brown rug with circles is in the second bedroom, which is now "the dude room", god help us. So naturally a brown rug was an appropriately masculine choice.



Sometimes Pip can be sweet.


I like how they both have their tongues out.

We are going to see Trail of Dead tonight at the Middle East Downstairs, which should be a good show. The only problem is that their set doesn’t start until 11 (which ought to make work tomorrow sleepy. My plan is to shower before the show and do a roll and stroll tomorrow morning; I figure if we get in at 1, I can go right to bed and sleep until 7:30 tomorrow morning and leave the house by 8, which will make me feel wretched, but I will be functional tomorrow for work, at least. I grow old, I grow old, and will probably regret seeing the show tomorrow.) Oh, and we’re getting 6 inches of snow today and supposed to have another 12 tomorrow. Yay New England. In the meantime we are listening to Yo La Tengo - transferring vinyl to MP3s, puttering and doing housework, and we need to hit the grocery store if we want to eat next week. A nap before the show is also very likely. Life is busy.

and just for kicks, a couple of pictures from when we were out in New Mexico over Christmas to see my parents.


The sky is so blue out there.




Some kind of cactus flower.

Hippy dippy woo-woo crap

So, I've been doing yoga for a few years now and all yoga practices incorporate meditation in some way. It's my understanding that yoga evolved as a way to get the kinks out of your body so you could meditate without being disturbed by a leg cramp or something. I don't know how true that is ... but for me, anyway, I started doing yoga as a way to get more fit physically. Eventually I started to notice some mental benefits - exercise is always a de-stresser, of course, but yoga in particular puts focus on mental and physical discipline and awareness and integration of the mental/spiritual with physical.

My therapist has been suggesting for a while now that I incorporate regular meditation into my routine as an anxiety management technique. I have an anxiety disorder that I take meds for every day, and I have tranquilizers available for urgent situations, but I'm not content to leave everything to the pharma-psychology to manage itself. Plus I really believe that meds work much better in conjunction with cognitive behavioral therapy. Meditation is one example of a CBT technique that I use but I have many.

Anyway, at my therapist's urging, I gave meditation a shot but was never quite able to work it into my routine - given the choice between sleeping an extra ten minutes and getting up to meditate, sleep always wins. Then recently I was talking with a friend about my mental health stuff (my friend has some similar issues) and my friend mentioned that she meditates on the train in the mornings. And I was immediately like, oh, BINGO! because otherwise the time on the train is wasted - well, I read, but I can't really do anything productive - it's not a long enough journey to get the laptop out and it's too jerky and crowded to be able to physically write anything. The train is sort of the perfect place, because cell phones don't work, there's no internet, no point in getting the laptop out to work, and even though you're in the midst of a crowd literally pressing in on you physically, emotionally you are completely isolated.

So I just shut my eyes and meditate through a couple of stops (or all the way in), and it doesn't matter if I've got a seat or have to stand, and I'm not chanting and I just look like all the other tired commuters. The only time it's really hard is if people are having a conversation nearby that's loud enough for me to hear distinctly - I almost always end up listening to it rather than meditating, but I try to treat those incidents as a challenge and a way to improve my focus rather than just get ANGRY SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID ASS I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT YOUR STUPID LIFE SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP BEFORE I STAB YOU IN THE FACE. Although trying to improve my focus rather than get angry doesn't always work. heh.

I generally focus on the breath - I cannot just clear my mind and blank out, especially on the way to work in the morning, I have to focus on something neutral or else I'll just start making mental to-do lists for the day ahead. Zen koans don't really work for me either. I am not perfect at it by any means - most of the time, thanks to yoga practice, I can sink right into a meditative state, but I'll almost immediately realize that I'm thinking again, at which point I refocus on the breath. I try to just take note of the thoughts as they pass through, just to kind of check in, awareness-wise, but I let them keep on swimming by without picking up a train of thought and riding it to the end. I've worked out a couple of visualizations, too, but I tend to be super-visual no matter what I'm doing.

It's been very helpful for me in a number of ways. For one thing, even though I am trying not to think about anything, I often do end up solving little problems that have been nagging at the back of my mind for a while. For another, I don't have to be afraid of my brain any more. I used to read all the time when physically possible - book on the T, book on ipod for the walk to and from the T, book on ipod for housework and at actual work whenever the level of work was low enough to permit a book on tape. If I was stuck anywhere I couldn't distract myself with a book or TV, I was miserable and started to worry immediately. You know those middle of the night hamster wheel thoughts? I had those all the time, and I just blocked them out as much as possible. I don't know if I'm describing the situation well, but it was pretty uncomfortable.

Somehow with meditating, the worries are no longer what bubble immediately to the forefront of my mind, and it's surprisingly peaceful to be able to sit quietly rather than working myself up into a panic attack within 15 minutes (not quite that bad, but definitely going in that direction.) I enjoy it now, enough that I try to remember to meditate on weekends, too (especially useful if Dave is wearing his cranky pants).

Sorry that was so long. If you don't have a train ride, it might be a little harder to set aside time and space. On weekends I shut myself in one of the bedrooms. If one or more cats is in there with me, that cat will probably want attention, so I try to use that distraction as a way to improve my ability to focus and shut out any disturbances. (Don't really have face-stabbing inclinations with the cats, fortunately.) Sometimes if I'm really wound up while at home I'll light incense and turn on a little water fountain and focus on the scented smoke and the burbling water. I think the key anyway is not to expect too much from yourself and to incorporate it into your daily routine.

Unrelated: fishtank update. So another fish "disappeared", this one immediately after I'd cleaned the tank. Dammit! I think I have been accidentally killing the algae eaters when I vacuum the gravel - they like to hide and I guess I am just vacuuming too enthusiastically or something. I think I may also have found where one of the bodies is lying. Ugh.

WTF of the day

What is the deal with chamomile tea? Every time I try it I just end up thinking it tastes like hot water which has recently had straw in it. And we have this super-posh chamomile at work too. The CEO is a tea snob and brings in all kinds of loose leaf teas, which is an awesome perk, but even chamomile that's been like lovingly harvested by sixteen year old greek virgins using only the tips of their fingers to gently coax the head of the flower from the stem. It still doesn't taste any better than the powder in the twinings bags.

Anyway. Seppaku tossed me this link. How did I miss this meme until now? I played it over and over until Dave lost his temper, which made me laugh harder.

Annnd now I'm tired. I'm listening to this version of Anne of Green Gables, by one of my favorite Librivox readers. I really like listening to books on my ipod, it makes doing housework almost pleasant. And if the reader is good, it's a slower and richer experience to listen to a book than it is to read.

I read the book many times as a child, and it's quite a bit funnier than I remember. Very sly. On the other hand, there's a lot of honest-to-god treacle in there too. But it's interesting to watch as Montgomery creates characters and sets scenes and to see how the humor works.

One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish

So I keep tropical fish, and it's not something I write about that often because really, how much is there to say? They swim around, sometimes Pip makes a grab for sushi, whatever. Also I am not very good at taking care of them - I'm kind of slack about water changes and definitely not good about changing the carbon filter regularly and the tank gets a lot of sunlight from our windows where it's situated so usually the water is a little cloudy and maybe a little greenish. Just like tornado weather!

And also I do dumb shit like putting fish together which then eat each other. I've got some serpae tetras and they eat the fins of the little neons that are also in there. Every time I tell someone who knows about fish what's going on, they say, "serpaes aren't supposed to nip neons!" No shit, that's why I thought it would be okay to put the two together, but apparently not. The neons are practically finless by this point. Poor guys just roll all over the tank without their stabilizing fins. I should really flush them and but them out of their misery, but I'm not even a good enough fish owner to do that.

And I realize the above makes me sound like a pretty bad pet owner, but I have actually improved. When I first got the fishtank, I was obsessed with the water and everything being sparkling clean, so I would do 100% water changes regularly and would boil the rocks to get the algae and germs off of them. Mysteriously, the fish kept dying, no matter how clean I kept the tank. then I realized that part of the problem was that I was uncontrolled when I added water back to the tank - I used to just dump a bucket's worth in and it would create a little tsunami in the tank and the fish would be dashed against the glass sides of the tank and die of their injuries. Doh. Also a fish-keeping friend came over and was like, whooooaaaa, you have the cleanest tank I've ever seen, I don't think it's healthy for the fish, I think they need more algae and stuff to be able to maintain bacterial life which will in turn keep the pH balance in check.

So now the tank is kind of dirty and I clean it less often. It's grosser to look at but the fish do seem to be lasting longer.

Which brings me to my current topic. If you weren't already disgusted by my tales from the piscine crypt, here comes some more. In order to combat the algae problem, I bought some little algae eaters. I know I brought three of them home but a couple of weeks ago I looked and looked and could only find two. They hide so I kept looking over the next couple of days but could only ever find two. So today I changed the water and even changed the carbon filter, expecting to find a fish skeleton somewhere, but no. I don't know where the hell that third guy went. I guess the tank ate him. Maybe he's under the gravel somewhere and of his bones are coral made. Who the hell knows?

And now that I have metaphorically aired my dirty laundry, it's time to get the clean load out of the dryer and get on with the next load.

Rambling

Happy New Year. Uh, ten days in, that is. I'm a teensy bit behind. I like to think of it as being fashionably late.

So I kind of think New Year's Resolutions are bullshit, because they don't seem to work for me. But this year I accidentally seem to have acquired some. Nothing that ambitious - to write more fiction, to meditate more regularly, and to be better about dealing with my mail pile (I totally let it stack up and then end up spending three hours dealing with month's worth of crap.)

so far, so good: I'm meditating on the train on the way into work in the morning, I've been on top of the mail this week and I'm trying to use the time on the way home from work to think about my writing. The ride home from work is harder, though - I get pretty wound up sometimes and just want to relax with a book instead of trying to be creative. It's rewarding when I do manage it, though. Plus I have a couple of writer friends to email with about the writing stuff, so that helps keep me enthusiastic.

We spent Christmas in Santa Fe, visiting my parents, and I took - no shit - about three hundred pictures. Which of course is why I haven't posted any, since the thought of digging through 300 pictures seems like it will be an involved project. Also work has been crazy busy since everyone got back into the office this week.

Not much downtime this weekend, either - Dave and I went out with friends from my work for drinks and dinner last night (if work is dismayingly busy, the upside is really liking the people I work with). We spent this morning doing housework (the cleaner hasn't been since before Christmas and the place is filthy). This afternoon we're going to a rally against Prop 8. I think it will be challenging, since it's outside and it's about 20F here in Boston. Supposed to get another 8 inches or so tonight, which should sit nicely on top of the layer of ice leftover from the last storm last weekend. Remind me why I chose to move back to this climate? Boston would be a much better city if it was at the latitude of, say, LA. Then we're getting takeout and hanging out with friends tonight. Tomorrow morning would normally be yoga but I've got a brunch date with some old friends from high school. Tomorrow afternoon and evening are still free, I think, so I'll probably end up doing really scintillating stuff like laundry and cleaning the fishtank and cooking for the week. And I'd like to work in some yoga at home, too. And then the weekend will be gone and it'll be back to work!

Random Awesome

Frank Zappa, at home with his parents. via swissmiss, who curates an awesome website. There are more in the series here.

I also really liked how Eric Clapton's mom obviously got out the good silver for the picture. Touching, somehow.

Monday looms

But not yet! I still have a few hours. We spent most of this weekend completely unplugged and it was glorious. I love the internet, but it's also my job, so it was good to have some time offline.

I got some reading done.

See if you can spot all four cats!

Note also that the living room is trashed. I cleaned it yesterday but it's pretty much ruined again by now. We didn't really go out much, although we did have Thanksgiving at my sister's house, with my nephews and my other sister in attendance. My sister can really put down a thanksgiving spread. I was grateful not to have to cook the whole meal, although I made rolls and a fresh cranberry bread and that was our contribution to the feast.

Besides the normal weekend housework projects, I had time to do some mending which I'd been meaning to get to for roughly six months.


You can see I'm a lousy seamstress. I was originally working with white on white - at least then I don't have to look at my mistakes - but it was really fucking hard to see. So I switched to blue, which is fine since the stitching is on the inside of a pillowcase and won't be seen. I am a slacker. The only reason I mend sheets instead of throwing them out and buying new is that they're really heavy cotton and high thread count, plus since they're old they're really soft and silky. And also new sheets are expensive.


I also got the cats all fucked up on catnip and took pictures.

See if you can spot Pip's need to be neutered! He has no idea.

And now, back to the weekday grind again. Le sigh. I do feel better after the slow, four day weekend, though. Plus I made lasagna tonight (used the recipe from Cover and Bake, with a few modifications. Cover and Bake is done by the obsessive Cook's Illustrated people, so you know that the recipes will always work and be delicious, just as you know the recipe will take forever. And it did take forever, and it was delicious. And I made flavored basil oil, and also some chutney. So at least I have good leftovers to nosh on during the week.

Winter ramblings

Whenever this showed up on the windows of the house I grew up in, Mom would say that Jack Frost had visited in the night. What do you know, Somerville's on his route, too! I always thought he made gorgeous patterns.

And I know that this blog has become nothing but a repository of Simone and Pip pictures lately, but when they're cute as fuck, how can I resist?



He tried to sleep with me like that last night and ended up getting hairs in my already-sexy mouth guard.(I have bruxism.) In fact, I had headaches and neckaches all last week and was thinking that it was because of my new contacts, so I switched to glasses, but the aches remained. I'm thinking now it was probably the result of clenching my teeth all night long.

The contacts are a pain in the ass, too. I needed a semi-custom lens for my right eye because the astigmatism basically makes my eye lopsided, so the contact won't stay in place. So I have a special giant contact that is supposed to be more stable, except it's not all that much more stable. My vision is really a lot better with glasses, but I don't like the way I look in glasses (mostly 'cause I can't wear mascara.) So I'm wearing the contacts to work anyway, which is exciting since due to the movement of the contact, my right eye's vision correction changes constantly - sometimes it's good and matches the left eye, sometimes it's not so good and I've got one eye seeing things blurrily and one eye seeing things sharply. It's awesome to look at excel spreadsheets when you're seeing double outlines all day, I can tell you. But I've been reading Oliver Sacks and I know the brain is super flexible so I think it ought to be able to re-map so I no longer notice a difference in focus. My left eye is much more severe than my right, so in the years before I had glasses, I used my right eye for distance and my left eye for close up work. Not consciously, of course, my brain just did it. So I think it ought to be able to adapt to the one consistent focus and the one inconsistent focus. And it is starting to happen. But my eyes do get tired towards the end of the day, I have to say.

Random Yo La Tengo Songs for Monday

Stockholm Syndrome:


I apologize for the Final Fantasy video - it had the best sound quality of all the clips I could find on YouTube.





Mr. Tough


This song always makes me laugh because the vocals sound like Herbert the Pervert from Family Guy (below).

caturday love fest

I know it's Sunday today but I took these pictures yesterday. We've had such a nice weekend just hanging out. It's been so frigging long since we've actually seen each other for more than ten minutes at a time. I have bread that's gonna be ready to go in the oven any minute and we were lazy and took a nap this afternoon. I'm so relaxed. Wish tomorrow wasn't Monday, but oh well.



She's grooming him while he nurses. She's not producing milk any more (thank god) but he still latches on for comfort, even though he's not very small any more.


I like how she has her paw flung over his shoulder here.


LUV. WE HAZ IT.

Pink Hair and cat pictures

So, new hair:



It's red and blonde highlights really. I told the hairdresser to do whatever he wanted - he's been doing my hair for a while - and that I wanted something really funky. I'm pretty happy with the results.



Also, Simone likes orange juice, which is funny since cats are supposed to hate citrus. I guess no one told her. She still loves green olives, too. I was eating some this weekend and she kept begging and ate all that I would give her. Weirdo.



I think she's cleaning the OJ out of his mustache.



Pip was not really sure about the orange juice, but I think he might grow to like it, with time.



Pip is growing into such a big boy. He's just about Inty's size right now but with those big paws, he won't be for long.

Internet nerdation and more about the cats

This is fun: Google Street View easter egg on a Pittsburgh street. Google Street View, if you don't use it already or disapprove of it on grounds of invasion of privacy, is the ability to zoom in to a particular street at eye level. It's not on every street everywhere in the world, but their US coverage can be impressively good, especially in major urban areas. I think it's kind of a silly project, myself - the only use for it that I could think of is checking out the street in front of a restaurant you've never been to before. But hey, there are probably uses for lots of things that I haven't thought of, and Google does put out a lot of stuff because they think it's cool or interesting and they figure they'll figure out how to make money off it later - their acquisition of YouTube is a good example of that policy, although digital video fingerprinting technology might soon mean that YouTube could actually make a buck.

But, uh, enough about that internet tech stuff, I know you're all dying for me to talk about Simone's butt again. My blog stats show that apparently a lot of people do keyword searches for cat butt problems. Heh.

Anyway, so Simone went to the vet on Monday for an upper respiratory infection, which she's prone to anyway. They think that at this point, it's not a cold so much as a secondary bacterial infectin (I think that means she has a sinus infection.) The poor thing had taken to breathing through her mouth, which, since cats don't generally pant, was a sad sight to see - her pink tongue kind of lying there like a slice of bologna. So while she was at the vet getting diagnosed (and weighed - she's lost .8 pounds! Which means, hurrah, the diet is working!) - anyway, while she was at the vet they had to take her temperature, which she did NOT like and in fact squirted juice from her anal glands all over the place to express her displeasure.

I am a bad person but since Dave was the one who took her, I laughed my ass off when he got to that part of the story. I guess she stunk so much even in her carrier that everyone in the waiting room was wrinkling their noses while Dave paid.

But wait, the fun's not over yet! Since then she has been leaving slimy brown trails everywhere she sits. I am just thankful for Shout - I don't know what they put in that shit and it's probably toxic for the environment, but it certainly gets stains out of the duvet cover, which is good since I can't afford jack this month and replacing a duvet covet is not an option - nor do I want to sleep under a stinky stained one. Meanwhile, we are working to ensure every piece of soft furnishing in our house is draped in plastic sheeting. Just like Grandma used to do! And now she gets meds in the morning, plus a butt wipe, which doesn't seem to do much good - I'm torn between the advisability of getting a Q-Tip up in there or just putting her in diapers. Or maybe giving her back to the SPCA. "I'm sorry, this cat has a serious design flaw, I'd like a refund." Kidding! Sort of. She's pretty fucking gross. If she wasn't so sweet-natured and googly-eyed I would totally be mad at her, but how can I be angry at those (slightly crossed) eyes?







But there is hope ahead. I think the main problem with the anal glands is that she's so obese she's unable to reach down there and lick it off for herself, and since the diet is working, maybe in a couple of months she'll be thin enough to keep herself clean. It's sad to watch her try to clean her nether regions, she kind of reaches down and grabs pawfuls of tummy fat and tries to get them closer to her mouth but she's still like, three inches away. She reminds me of myself in yoga class, actually, trying to get into a twist when I've got too much tummy fat to really get into the pose properly. Too bad I don't have a beneficient owner to restrict my food - no, I have to exercise plain old willpower, which I think we've seen is not one of my skills. Le sigh.

Not political

I've had this theme song stuck in my head for a couple of months now. I loved Heathcliff.

new camera

I've been playing with the new camera for a couple of weekends now but I only just found the software (it was, um, in the box) and got some pictures downloaded onto the computer. Finally! Mostly the pictures following are of the cats and pretty colored leaves. I did not test the macro properties by taking a picture of Simone's snotty nose to share with you - the poor thing has a respiratory infection. Which means one of us has to take time off work to get her to the vet this week (totally kicking myself for not taking her yesterday.) She is all sneezy and sniffly, poor thing.




Simone in happier times - posing with a slice of my pesto bread



Pip's nursing face. Simone is no longer producing milk but he still suckles sometimes for comfort.


Zoe hasn't died yet, as you can see. The only reason she let Pip get that close to her was because she didn't notice him. She fucking hates him!


Inty sharpening her claws, not like they need it. I can really tell from this picture how much better the new camera is (it's an Olympus Evolt E-510. I'm not totally thrilled with everything about it but I'm still learning how to use it. Still, cameras can't replace eyeballs - I take a lot of shots that I think will be great because my brain is only paying attention to one thing, and then find that the picture inside the camera is a compositional mess. Also the camera isn't smart about depth perception and light balance the way my eyeballs are. So a lot of what I need to learn is the limitations of the tool, so I can drive it better.)


Even the projects near our house get pretty light at certain times of the day.


Cemetary near our house, where I often go for walks. A hobo lived there this summer but when I was there taking pictures recently, the hobo's hut seemed to have been demolished.


I don't know what the religious meaning of this statue is, but I really like the round cheeks.


Glorious reds.


Rip Van Winkle


Still jealous of the foot tattoos.


Sometimes Somerville is so beautiful that it breaks my heart a little.


I always sort of imagined that the thorny hedge outside of Sleeping Beauty's castle looked like this in the fall. I have no idea what this plant is but it's fairly common around here, and has evil sharp thorns. While I was taking pictures the plant totally tried to grab me. It probably wanted to drag me inside and scratch me to death so I could fertilize its roots or something.


Scary Mary. You see why I love Somerville so much? Not only are there Madonnas in bathtubs outside every other house, but people decorate them with shrunken heads and cobwebs for Halloween. What's not to like about that?

Cherry picking fun singles for Friday

It's not halloween-y but I like it anyway:

Mirah, Sweepstake Prize, from her debut album, You Think It's Like This But It's Really Like This, which i do not possess but think I might like.

(heh, I said weenie.)

The thing I really dig about Sweepstakes Prize is the 60s girl-group vibe of the opening notes of the song (chords? bars? I am so musically uneducated), and then the solo guitar adds melody and rhythm, which is maybe what picking and strumming is supposed to do, I just never thought about it before. Listen now 'cause I have no idea what the deal is with the site I've linked to but it seems pretty small and I'm not sure if the offered downloads are legal.

I also like Stray Dog and a Chocolate Shake, for straight up poppy goodness, and this video is reasonably amusing. By Grandaddy. I used to have a Grandaddy of my own. Now he's taking his dirt nap. I guess I could console myself with albums from the band but it wouldn't be the same.



And I had this stuck in my head last night at bedtime, which was a nice song to fall asleep to. The track is called He's Gone, by Leona Naess, from her self-titled album, which is another album I'd like to get my hands on.

All these songs are courtesy of the matchup created by the brilliant Pandora on my favorite Pandora station, which I listen to all day long - srsly, I don't know how I'd get through the work day without streaming music. Pandora is such a smart, smart piece of programming and analysis. If you can have a crush on a website, then I do. Here's my station

Edited to add The great American Napkin, by Summer Skinny, which is not a band I can find out a whole lot about. That link is to their myspace page, by the way, and The Great American Napkin is the second song on their playlist.

Update again: I keep forgetting songs! I also love Corvette by Golden Smog. I want Dave's band to cover this song because I think it would work really well with their style. his band does a kickass version of Jailbreak (Badfinger) and this would fit in nicely.

Reading

Edgar Sawtelle. Love it so far. I'm about halfway through and this morning on the T I started to get nervous about the ending so I totally flipped to the end and glanced at it. I do that sometimes - I used to do it a lot but now I either read more authors I trust or I usually am less invested in the outcome or I can tell from the plot arc where the story is going. Probably a combination of the three. But Edgar Sawtelle is a big, fast read and I really like it - it makes me want to write fiction, especially since the author is a software programmer (I think) in his day job. Something high tech, anyway, and I found that inspiring. I'm in a high tech field! I like to write!

And one of these days, I will quit whining about how I want to write and actually start writing. Today might not be that day, however. I still gotta clean the litterboxes and somehow this Gordon Ramsey reality tv program which is on while I blog is mysteriously compelling.

Edgar Sawtelle is also an Oprah book, which for some reason I only realized just now (despite the fact that I think my copy has a sticker on it promoting the Oprah affiliation) and like all of Oprah's picks, it's a meaty book which is eminently readable and has a gripping story. Plus it's about dogs, the dog training sessions are my favorite parts. I am going to try to remember to send the book to my parents when I'm done, it's totally up their alley - they have a pair of corgis and I share a lot of common reading ground with them.

why 30 rock should not be cancelled

... not like the shows that I like to watch usually do well commercially and critically, but never mind. This song is hilarious.

excuses, excuses

So the blogging, she has been very light and infrequent, which I am totally sorry about, not only for anyone who’s checked back here fruitlessly several times in the past month (I recommend using a feed reader to save yourself some clicking), but also because I miss blogging. I like it. Even though I don’t have my new camera’s software downloaded onto the laptop (I dunno what the hell I did with the CD and manual that arrived with the camera but they’re gone and I haven’t had the energy to do really hard things like downloading the software from the company website), I could still tell amusing (maybe) stories about Simone’s butt.

But not having gotten my act together for the camera, it’s kind of an encapsulation of why I’m not blogging. Right now it’s taking all my energy to hold on and keep getting to my job and keep up my end on the housework (which I am also not doing a great job of) and the marriage and the cats. I am barely making it to yoga once a week, never mind voluntary things like getting up early in the mornings to write or getting it together to get the camera installed already.

Not writing is particularly sucky, because I actually have a fiction project in mind that I want to get into already, but somehow it takes everything I’ve got to keep analyzing and tweaking and optimizing for work instead of spending all day sobbing in the bathroom (I’m getting some assistance from Pedro the Lion – I Can. Not. Stop. listening to his melancholy pop songs about god. Plus he is a good lyricist, which I am always a big sucker for. Sad boys writing catching songs! Yay!)

There’s nothing obviously wrong in my life that needs to be fixed and about a zillion things I could point a finger at that could be causing the crazy – hormonal birth control, shorter days with less light, the economy, the election – and that’s just a small sample of the crap I worry about. I swear I have more wrinkles than I did this summer. This Onion article pretty much describes the way I feel all the time. Heh.

To sum up: I am crazed with anxiety, the cause is most likely biological, I don’t have a great deal of faith in meds – they do some of the heavy lifting but they’ve got serious side effects (I’m still taking them, though, don’t worry, I haven’t pulled one of those stunning logical leaps which says, “I still feel crappy despite these drugs so why am I taking them?” to which the obvious answer for the non-crazy is, “you’d be even moar cuh-razee if you stopped taking them” – all I can say is that it’s hard to think that clearly when you’re at the bottom of a well and can’t find the ladder.) Plus for me it’s really roller-coaster-y, so sometimes I’m at the bottom of the well and sometimes I’m like, “what well? Isn’t sunshine great?” and then I fall in and break a leg on the way down, oops.

Okay, so everyone reading this is probably freaked out by now, and you don’t need to be: it sucks to deal with this but it’s nothing new to me. Probably for my whole life I’ll be dealing with inexplicable periods of time where life seems not worth living. (Okay, that didn’t come out reassuring like I meant it to be.) What I am trying to say is that I’ve dealt with this before, lots and lots, and it sucks a whole big bunch but it never lasts forever and – on balance - I spend the minority of my time feeling this way, not the majority, and besides the meds I have lots of coping tools – yoga and therapy and Dave and emailing friends and hey, blogging, plus knowing that I’ve been here before – which helps a lot with perspective. And the cats.

Never underestimate the power of a serenely purring cat. Just knowing, while I’m at work all day, that there are four furry darlings waiting at home to give me nose kisses and get scritches and purr and purr and whine for food and knock shit over and bite me and run and jump and play, fatly or diabetically or kittenishly or with an irritable bowel (depending on the cat) – it helps.


my favorite pedro the lion song, which is actually not about god at all, I don't think

blah blah blah about nothing in general

Oh man. I have been on fire this weekend, let me tell you. I did a pile of ironing yesterday and made black bread with wacky ingredients like instant coffee and cocoa powder. The bread was kind of fucked up, like tiny little doorstopping loaves of great density. I think I allowed the yeast to over proof, if that can happen. Oh well, shit happens. Then we went out for drinks and then bowling and then burgers and fries for dinner around midnight. It was pretty fun.

We overslept this morning (no surprise there) and skipped the early a.m. run to HellBasket, choosing instead to pay the Stop & Shop convenience tax, where you get the same amount of food but it costs 20% more to buy it in a store with wide, spacious aisles and ample parking. So after yoga and Stop & Shop I started cooking, namely a pot roast with root vegetables, a gingerly-star-anise-y plum chutney and a sauce made from the cooking liquid. Dave just needs to get home now so I can eat it already. I even got wine and lit candles and put a tablecloth on the table, it's all fancy-like. Oh yeah - while I was in the kitchen I also made tomato sauce for a lasagne planned for later this week. And I did the usual boring weekend things like laundry and dishes and catboxes, and now that I'm sitting down I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to get up again. Oof. Plus Zoe is sitting on my lap.

Among other things I didn't mean to do this weekend was misplace my phone. So if anyone is expecting a call from me, sorry and I will catch up with you next week. (Squinting santa fe-wards.)

Kiwi!

Probably everyone has seen this already, but check out this gorgeous video and just try not to choke up. Warning: the song will get stuck in your head.



Unrelated: I think I am finally starting to get the hang of the new job.

Diet Bear Update

So I'm spending my Sunday afternoon just doing chores and watching HGTV and Inty has been, like, all up in my face all day and affectionate and finally I realize she wants food. So I go get her some food but because the others have all just gone on meal schedules today, they all race in hopefully. They all watched while I poured Inty some food and then put the bag away. I saw Simone's big googly eyes watch me carefully as I put the food away. Moments later, I heard a crash come from the kitchen. Heheheheheh. Poor Diet Bear.

Cat butt spectacular!

so no pictures, but only because I haven't figured out yet how to get them off my new camera and onto my computer. My camera did come with a CD full of proprietary software and a cord to connect it to the PC and even a manual, but I don't know what the hell I did with the manual, so I need to either download another or figure it out the hard way. Neither of those things will happen today since it's already 2 pm and me and the house are still dirty. I'm dirty from not showering this morning and then going to yoga class, the house is dirty from the usual flakes of litter everywhere and Simone's ass.

Yes, Simone's ass is dirtying the house. This is where things are going to get gross, so click away now if you're feeling delicate. We took Simone to the vet yesterday because she's been wheezing and because she had a skin condition (which has since cleared but she's still all scabby) and because she needed to have her anal glands expressed. She's been scooting across the carpet and Dr. Internet, assisted by Nurse Google, informed me that hard stools are necessary in order for cats to keep their anal sacs in good shape. (yeah, go ahead and click on that link, I'm sure you're dying to know more. I do love About.com, though.)

So Simone has been bogarting Pip's kitten food - which is what she was apparently allergic to, since during the kitten food time period she had this horrible dandruff, like big snowflakes of it, which was fucking gross. And since kitten food is so rich and fatty it gave them all diarrhea, which meant the litter boxes were even more dank and digusting than usual. It's not like we entertain often, but seriously, I would not have wanted someone to come over to the house during that time. So we just started giving them all Inty's low ingredient hypo-allergenic food (I figured Pip would survive) and lo and behold, Simone's skin condition cleared itself up. (Mostly. She's still a little scabby, but clearly healing.) And everyone stopped having diarrhea except who Simone (who showed some improvement but not enough.)

But Simone started scooting across the floor and her butt did not smell good and it felt like my house was covered in a thin film of cat butt slime, so I made a vet appointment. The internets all tell you how to express the anal glands yourself, but I'm telling you, it's worth the fifty bucks the vet will charge you. That stuff smells so bad, it's like a durian factory up in here. I'm burning so much incense, round the clock, that smoke billows out the doors when you come in from outside.

Anyway, so at the vet's they put a hilarious red hood thingie over Simone's face - I need to start bringing a camera to the vet, you all would have loved it - and squirted sacfuls of squid ink out of her - which is sticky and she runs away when I start up with the paper towels on her bunghole, which I guess I understand, and oh yeah, the reason she's wheezing is because she weights 15 pounds. When we got her, she weighed 13. She's gained like 15% since she got here, and she arrived tubby! She can't breathe, essentially, because her own fatness is crushing her lungs.

So now in addition to being called Simone Bear and Momma Bear, she's Diet Bear. We started her on the new regime this morning (actually they are all going to have to have their food regulated) and she is already following us around, meowing whenever we get near the kitchen and eying me mournfully with her big round eyes that look like googly eyes. Heh. I am evil for taking pleasure in this, even if it is for her own good.

And now, time to clean my disgusting house. You would never know that a cleaner came on Wednesday, it looks like two tornadoes had a fight.

wine o' clock

Braless at last, I'm relaxing on the couch with a glass (not my first) of Chardonnay and Zoe on my lap, Inty on the armrest and Simone over at the end of the couch. Pip is digging himself smallish ass groove in the arm rest pillow. For a while I didn't know where Pip was - he turned my screen sideways and then took himself off. (Ctl + alt + up arrow, in case it happens to you and you need to turn it back.)

Lisa noted recently that taking your bra off is the best part of the day, and she's right. It's not like I find bras uncomfortable - I am way more uncomfortable going around outside braless - but there's something deeply satisfying about finally getting free of the tight elastic
band around your chest and feeling your breasts sink down to lie down, tiredly, on top of your ribcage.

The cats and I are all watching Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which I've never seen before but rented on Netflix on the strength of having a white nightgown in my little wedding trousseau that looks a bit like the one Elizabeth Taylor wears in the movie. I can't fit into it at the moment - my boobs, along with the rest of me, put on the annual summertime ten pounds as usual this year - but I should be able to wear it again come january, when it's totally not seasonal. Plus Dave is at band practice tonight, and since classic movies are not his bag, I've got the place, and the cats, to myself. The movie is a little tough to watch - I'd burned through my first marriage by the time I was 26, so it's hard to watch a movie about such a riotously unhappy marriage, but it's completely riveting, I'll give it that. Elizabeth Taylor has some awesome outfits, though, and she does not have at all what we would consider a movie star body, so that's kind of cheering too. Her figure looks a lot like mine. Especially as I slurp up more fattening wine. Om nom nom. Plus Paul Newman just died, so it's good to be watching him in his prime.

I thig I'b gettig a code

So I skipped yoga today, in favor of a nap, hoping that if I baby myself I can prevent the cold from becoming full blown. Although what I ended up doing was a ton of housework in the morning - litterbox, vacuuming, cleaning someone's shitty paw prints off the couch, starting laundry, changing the sheets, yadda yadda. And I drank like a gallon of orange juice, for the vitamin C. Now I'm all full of juice and sloshing around.

Then after the chores in the morning I napped, and if there's anything nicer than snuggling under a quilt for a nap on a Sunday afternoon with a clean conscience, clean sheets, sunlight streaming in through the windows and a purring cat, I don't know what it is. Dave was at band practice so I had total peace and quiet. Woke up around 5:30, showered and started some bread. Man, I love that KitchenAid so much. Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Lynch. The dough came together in about 5 minutes.

I adapted a James Beard recipe (which is itself an adaptation of a Jane Grigson recipe) to suit the ingredients I had on hand. In a funny coincidence, I own the Jane Grigson book that Beard talks about, too. There were so many good people writing cookbooks in the 50s and 60s - James Beard, Elizabeth David, Jane Grigson - that that's what my cookbook collection is based on. I have Julia Child but I confess I've never cooked out of her. The modern writers I turn to most are Mark Bittman, Nigel Slater and Nigella Lawson. Oh, and my friend Anne Bramley's Eat Feed Autumn Winter arrived from Amazon yesterday and I've already read most of it (I inhaled it like a novel) and given my mother a recipe from it (for roasted vegetables.) It has actually made me excited about the squash and root vegetables that I know we'll soon be inundated with from Boston Organics, our CSA.

Anyway, the bread is in the oven now so I can't report yet on whether it's good or not, but so far it seems to be acting normally. I've never made so many drastic alterations to a recipe so I'm a little nervous about the outcome. I will update this post if it turns out gross, otherwise you can assume it was delicious.

Here's Beard's original recipe:

5 cups of all-purpose flour (preferably unbleached)
1 tbl salt
2 tbl sugar
2 pkgs active dry yeast
2 c. warm milk
1/2 c. walnut oil or 8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter, melted and cooled
1/2 c walnuts, roughly chopped
3/4 c. onions, finely chopped

Sift flour, salt and sugar into a warm bowl. Dissolve the yeast in 1/2 c. warm milk and pour into the middle of the flour, together with the walnut oil (or butter) and the rest of the milk. Knead well until the dough is firm and blended into a smooth, springy ball (about 10 minutes.) Leave in a warm place to rise for two hours (or in a cool place overnight.) Punch down the dough, mix in the walnuts and onion, shape into 4 rounds and leave on a greased baking tray to rise for 45 minutes. Bake at 400F for 45 minutes, or until the loaves sound hollow when tapped underneath.

Here's what I made:

Pesto Bread

5 cups of all-purpose flour
1 tbl salt
2 tbl sugar
4 1/2 tsp. bread machine yeast (bought the wrong yeast by mistake)
2 c. warm milk, between 120F and 130F
about 1/4 c. pesto topped off with 1/4 c. olive oil (to keep the right proportion of fat.)

I put all the dry ingredients together in the bowl of the kitchen aid and gave it a few stirs. Then I added the milk (apparently bread machine yeast requires a higher temperature than regular yeast, or so the sides of the jar say. Anyway the higher temp thing was handy since I accidentally let the milk get a little hotter than I planned and I didn't have to wait too long for it to cool enough.) Once the milk was in, I dumped in the pesto and olive oil and let the whole thing come together. I stuck a towel over the bread dough just as it was, in the kitchen aid bowl, and let it rise on the stove top (where it got a bunch of residual heat from the pre-heating oven.) Technically I should have washed and greased another bowl and turned the bread to oil it all over and let the bread rise in that, since mine stuck a little. But who cares when you're skipping a whole pain-in-the-ass step? The sides of the bread machine yeast jar said to let the dough rise for 10 minutes, but I waited until it doubled in size and that took about 30 minutes, which is still faster than the two hours in the original recipe.

Then I peeled it off the sides of the bowl - like I said, it stuck a bit but not terribly - and punched it down and shaped it into two loaves on a non-stick cookie sheet (instead of 4 loaves like in the original recipe. That would have made four elf-sized loaves.) I've made this bread before and not only were the walnuts and onions a pain in the ass to incorporate at that stage, I didn't think they added that much to the bread - not like essential moisture or anything - so I didn't even add pine nuts (though that would probably have been pretty good.) I did brush it with olive oil to prevent it from cracking as it rose, which I guess worked since it didn't crack. I nearly sprinkled it with coarse salt at that point, thinking of foccacia, but decided that salty bread might be strange in sandwiches, which is probably the fate of this bread. My hope was for it to be tasty enough that just smearing cream cheese in between slices would make a good, and easy, lunch.


Once it was shaped into loaves, I let it rise again until it was doubled in size, which seemed to take about half an hour - the kitchen was pretty warm by this time, which I think helped the bread's rise along - and then stuck it in the oven. I set the timer for 45 minutes, figuring that if anything, it would take longer than the original recipe but either my oven timer is messed up (possible) or the bread machine yeast does something crazy, because it was only in there 25 minutes (according to the oven timer) before it was all brown and hollow-sounding when rapped on the bottom. I dunno. I think it's the oven timer, because bread usually takes more than 25 minutes to bake. I didn't look at my watch, either, which means we'll have to wait until it's cool to cut in and see if it's raw in the middle or anything horrible like that. Oh, the suspense! I really know how to live, huh? Probably no pictures even if I do update this post because I still don't have the right memory for the new camera and I don't really want another dachshund fetus incident.

update three seconds later: it is delicious. Om nom nom. The milk made it super fluffy and light, and you get just the right amount of pesto taste, distinct but not overwhelming

I learned it by watching you!

Dave and I quote this one a lot at each other. Heh.

Fresh Apple Cookies

I decided to make cookies yesterday, kind of on a whim (as opposed to a crumble from a couple of weeks ago that I considered a chore, since I had to make it that night or the peaches would have gone off.) I looked through a few cookbooks - really just looking for a recipe that I had all the ingredients for.

James Beard's Fresh Apple Cookies fit the bill. (From American Cookery, which Lysne kindly sent me, since she knows how much I love Beard on Bread.) I was thinking I wanted crisp and spicy and these are more tender and cake-y than crisp, but still delicious. Plus since they are crammed full of apples and raisins and pecans, I have been pretending that they are health food. Yeah fucking right - the recipe calls for a stick of butter. At least the KitchenAid makes creaming butter super easy even if you haven't bothered to let the butter sit out and soften. Next time I might mix up the spices a little with some cardamom and fresh ground black pepper, but these are pretty good as is. I'm bringing some into the office tomorrow as part of my quest to win friends and influence people.


They won't be winning any beauty pageants any time soon.

Fresh Apple Cookies

1/2 c. butter
1 1/3 c. firmly packed brown sugar
1 egg
2 1/2 c. sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 c. apple juice, pineapple juice, orange juice, or milk
1 c. chopped, unpeeled raw apple
1/2 - 1 c. chopped walnuts, filberts, or pecans
1 c. raisins

Cream the butter, cream in the sugar, and beat in the egg. Sift the dry ingredients (I totally didn't bother, just combined the dry ingredients in a bowl and stirred 'em with a fork) and add to the creamed mixture along with the juice or milk. Stir in the apples, nuts and raisins. Push the dough from the tip of a teaspoon with the back of another onto a buttered cookie sheet (I used nonstick), leaving about 1 1/2 inches between each cookie. (I found that they didn't spread very much.) Bake in a preheated 375F degree oven for 10-12 minutes or until a light brown. Yields about 4 dozen cookies. (I had exactly 4 dozen.)

Caturday etc

Immediately after taking this picture Pip let out the most heinous fart. I had to turn the fan on, the air is practically brown.



He is still nursing from Simone, they had a session this morning. I'm not sure my regular vet believed me when I told her about it - she thought maybe the milk production would be gone in two weeks because Simone's hormones left over from the spaying would be all done. But she was spayed on July 13th, so those hormones ought to have been out of her system long ago (unless she was in heat when they spayed her, which I guess is possible.) Anyway, neither of the cats cares that they are participating in a medical mystery, they both just purr and get squinty happy eyes.

I pulled the trigger on a new camera, a digital SLR. I have wanted one for a couple of years now but haven't been able to justify the expense, since I am such an amateur. But since I'm working really hard at my new job (and also really enjoying the work, yay!), I wanted to reward myself.

My other big reward purchase will probably be a vacuum cleaner - currently we've got an Electrolux that I think I remember from my childhood. It works fine, but it's stinky from years of dog and cat hair, and it's cumbersome - we have it stored in a teeny closet off the kitchen and it has to be taken apart into three pieces to fit into the closet, so it's a pain to haul it out, and then when you do have it out, it's heavy and louder than a fucking jet engine.

So I have convinced myself that being at home less (because of longer working hours and a longer commute, both of which, incidentally, are responsible for my blogging less) means I have to have a lighter, easier and more efficient vacuum, because when I do get home from work I don't really feel like cleaning the litterboxes and vacuuming at all. It needs to be done, though, or else we end up with snowdrifts of litter accumulating in the corners of the room. Which, yeah, gag me with a spoon. Anyway, I looked at the Dyson Animal but we've mostly got hardwood, so I think it might be overkill - I want something light and nimble that I can use without much trouble. I'm thinking Dyson slimline or Miele, and I'd love to hear from anyone who has experience or a recommendation.

So those are my wild and crazy purchases! Woohoo! A camera and a small appliance! And I'm also plotting to get the couch re-covered and we are thinking about a component stereo system at Christmas. We'll have to see about the couch, I think. I'm not making THAT much more at the new job.

Pip's fall from grace

So Pip fell off the second story porch tonight. It's easily fifteen feet. He probably jumped, the little booger. A neighbor knocked on the door and asked Dave if this was our kitten. Poor little Pip had a bloody, scratched nose and curled up around himself, very still. He was breathing fine but he seemed so lethargic we took him to the emergency vet in Woburn. It's a terrific, if expensive, facility, as we have reason to know. It's where we took Inty for her endoscopy.


With flash.

He's totally fine, and in fact perked up at the vet's (of course.) Now he's back home, sleeping on the bed. Apparently he had the naughtiness knocked right out of him this evening.


Without flash. This is closer to the real colors. I need a fucking new camera. I think I will buy one soon, actually. I can't stand it. Plus it would make a good reward for getting a new job. Wow, this is a long aside. Sorry, everyone.

Wait 'til I tell the other martians about this!

I think this commercial trying to convince kids that fruit was more delicious than candy bars might have been local to the Boston area, Dave doesn't remember it at all. I'm pretty sure my sisters will, though.

\

It totally backfired for me - I used to dream about how great it would be to live on Mars and eat candy bars all the time.

slice of life

So last night while everyone else was watching McCain's speech, I was out at a club watching Dave's band and then Leon Rich, the act that followed them. I was pretty tired by then (as usual) but since there were about 7 people in the club and they were all our friends, I felt like it would be really obvious if I left in the middle of the set so I stayed and half-assedly tried to hide my yawns. I was glad I stayed, though, when Leon Rich started playing a song about dead squirrels that involved some kind of United Nations conspiracy theory. The chorus was "dead squirrel, yeah". Tell me that didn't beat the GOP convention speeches!

And then after Leon Rich I took off. The nice thing about local shows is that I don't have to wait for the boys to load in their gear, I can just take a cab home. Fifteen minutes (and fifteen dollars) later, I'm walking in the front door. It makes going out on a weeknight much more feasible - I was in bed by like 12:30 and so when the alarm went off at 7 I wasn't exactly thrilled but I don't feel too awful this morning. I also stuck to beer all night, which was a deliberate choice - that club pours REALLY strong drinks, which I found out the hard way the last time Dave's band played there. So beer drinking + control top panty hose = physically unable to consume a lot of beer. The elastic in those control tops will beat beer in an arm wrestling match every time.

I think the other reason I'm tired, besides the exciting stress of a job change and the fact that I've had after-work commitments every night this week (except for Monday, which was Labor Day, but I actually spent it in the office) - ANYWAY, as I was saying before I got sidetracked by my parentheticals, I think the reason I'm so tired might be related to the fact that I've had my period for NINE DAYS. Motherfucker! It's extra ironic because if I didn't take hormonal birth control, I would likely not get any period at all, so I wouldn't have to deal with it. I am also most likely infertile so the whole birth control shebang is probably a big waste of time, not that I am interested in testing this theory the hard way. (Also I might be fucked up a different way because of not having the correct hormones swirling around. Plus amenorrhea is really bad for future bone density, and since I recently learned that both my parents are two inches shorter than they used to be, I am all about bone density. Bring on the calcium-enriched OJ!) But still, it sucks to bleed for nine days and not know when (if) it'll end.

So that's my life. Also last night I rashly promised to go out again tonight for dinner and to see another local band, the Russians, who I haven't heard of before but they sound pretty good. I think I might need a nap in between work and going out, though.

It's been busy

For one thing, I am starting a new job on Monday. So instead of a real post, here's a picture of Dave under a waterfall on our honeymoon in Puerto Rico.



Yes, I'm pretty happy about that six-pack. My husband is hot.