Christmas Survey

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper. And in true anal retentive fashion, the lines have to be perfect and as little tape used as possible.

2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial, since my sister and brother-in-law gave Aaron and I their old one. I’d prefer a real tree though. I love the smell; I can pretend I’m in the woods.

3. When do you put up the tree? This year since Aaron and I moved right after Thanksgiving, the tree was “put up” the weekend that we moved… In other words, it went from the attic where it was put together and strung with lights to our dining room where it leaned against the corner. It was officially righted and plugged in about 2 weeks before Christmas, but we never did decorate it.

4. When do you take the tree down? Again, this year is atypical – as soon as possible so I can expedite finding my living room. I’m very positive on the prospects here as the lawn mower and weed eater no longer grace the floor.

5. Do you like eggnog? Not especially. But sufficient quantities of alcohol can make me like anything.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Well… this is a tough one. Christmas presents were usually a low-key affair. The first present that comes to mind is the keyboard I received when I was around 10… but I couldn’t say it was my favorite because, although I wanted one more than anything, I never really got over the guilt of how expensive it was. My first reaction upon opening the package was feeling the bottom drop out of my stomach. So I default to my favorite childhood gift, which was the “Anne of Green Gables” series for my birthday.

7. Do you have a Nativity scene? I have a frosted glass set which was set up this year only because Indiana Jones needed Christmas decorations for the office holiday party.

8. Hardest person to buy for? The little nieces and nephews. Seriously, they have everything under the sun. I wanted to buy them garbage bags.

9. Easiest person to buy for? Ashley – especially this year since she’s (gulp) going to SMSU next year.

10. Worst Christmas Gift you ever received? Gift cards. Wow, nothing says love and forethought than generic plastic cash. Yes, Virginia, you can buy holiday cheer. Hey… why isn’t the next question “Best Christmas Gift you ever received?” ??? Such focus on the negative, humph. My favorite present this year was the homemade coupon from Megan for “playing in the snow and singing with you”. Because the best gifts are always homemade.

11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail, although this is the first year since I went to college that I haven’t sent any out.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? The Grinch, I guess. After The Christmas Story, of course.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Normally, I start sometime in the summer. But this year? This year it was the weekend before. I blame it on faulty calendars that lie and make you think you have more time than you really have.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? A Christmas present, no; wedding present, yes. Bad Christmas presents are stored indefinitely until my willpower and fortitude dissolve and my conscience force me to use it.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Sausage and cheese balls, sausage stars, peanut brittle, 7-layer salad…. All things fattening and delicious. I feel absolutely no guilt, only sad that I have to ever leave the comfort of a kitchen warmed by baking.

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Solid strands of individual colors, mixed. Blue is a default strand color.

17. Favorite Christmas song? O Holy Night even (especially?) when Cartman’s singing.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Define “home” …

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Jerky, chili, Salisbury steak….

20 .Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel, although I’ll never forget the ugly little tin star with a hole in the center for a light that was always on the Christmas tree before the divorce. If I didn’t love it so much, I’d hate it.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas Eve. It’s your reward for surviving the children’s Christmas service.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Seeing the bloodied and mangled corpse of Christmas spirit (but always with a symmetrical bow on its head) really raises my ire. Not just the obvious lack of good will toward man or the frenzied bustle of credit cards, but the temper tantrums that ensue when opening 7/10 presents Christmas Eve isn’t enough or the necessity to perfectly coordinate family time.

23. What is the "corniest" family tradition that you have or miss? I don’t really think that any of them are corny, but I do wish that my family wouldn’t think that playing pitch is mandatory for all family gatherings. There are medieval tortures… and then there is obligatory pitch playing until the point of exhaustion. The tradition that I miss, on the other hand, is having everyone together and speaking to each other.

24. Ugliest Christmas decor ever invented? Frosted Christmas trees.

25. Which looks best theme or homey trees? C’mon, “homey” is a theme. Now with that being said, as much as I love homey, it’s only best if it’s your own tree. Somebody else’s glue-and-glitter trees just annoy me. Well done themed trees are an art form in and of themselves.

26. Gingerbread or sugar cookies? Sugar cookies, if peanut butter cookies or peanut brittle can not be found.

27. Do you like Fruitcake? Honestly, can’t say as I’ve ever eaten it. I think I’ve only ever seen two.

I'm a Vowel AND a Battery - WOO!

Strange conversations can be heard in an office after hours:
e: So Erin, how are you doing?
e²: Oh, not too badly. Yourself?
e: Yeah, the same.
e²: No kidding? You know, you probably shouldn't be talking to yourself.
e: So they say, but I heard that talking to yourself is perfectly normal and perfectly sane.
e²: Unless you...
e: Exactly, unless you answer yourself.
e²: Wow, you're rude! You even interrupt yourself.
e: Whatever. Shouldn't you be working already? I really don't want to stay much later if there's only you for company.
e²: Tell me about it! I know exactly how you feel. If you think you have it rough, you should try being in my shoes.
e: Ugh, you're in heels. Nasty toe pinching, arch aching, e-vile shoes that throw your back out of alignment.
e²: Don't blame me! You're the one who put them on your feet.
e: Oh sure, how is it that they always become my feet and my fault when they hurt... but your feet when they're getting a massage?
...
e: No response, huh? Exactly. Anyway, you can catch your own ride home, but I'm heading out.
...
...
e²: (Stupid head)
e: I heard that!

14 Days Till Chri... WHAT?!

Now, I know I have to keep this blog PC (although I'd rather keep it Mac) - so let me paraphrase what I said when I discovered, just seconds ago, that THIS Friday is the Friday before Christmas and that I have done absolutely NO Christmas shopping as of yet:

*@#$ %^&* *^%$ oh my #@!@ #$%^ - &*(* &^% &$#@!!!

I swear I thought I had another full week. Again, I repeat: *@#$ %^&* *^%$ oh my #@!@ #$%^ - &*(* &^% &$#@!!! So... if you get a box with a picture of what I'm getting you, consider yourself lucky. At least I thought of you in time to Amazon.com your gift. :D

And with that out of the way, I must give public acknowledgment to Aaron. For if it were not for him, I would certainly starve. Getting home around 8pm after a day of eating only 1/4 a hamburger and 6 crackers with (very lovely) humus, you'd think I'd be hungry. Typical Erin fashion, dinner was forgotten; I'd traded food for thoughts yet again. But lo, a star did appear in the west and come to rest upon Salisbury steak and vegitibbly goodness.

The Coolest Person You Could Ever Meet

Because I could not love her more if I tried.
Because "sister" is spelled N-I-E-C-E.
Because I only let Jeanette claim her for taxes.
Because she's absolutely right - a handwritten letter is more personal than a typed letter.
Because her letter and beautiful pictures brought a smile to my face, a jump in my step, and a laugh in my belly.

Sempre, Sempre

When you are feeling under the weather, there are certain universal truths. One is burrowing into the covers and only occasionally peaking out to see how much of the morning has gone by. Another is the consumption of your favorite broth-based soup. And no less necessary is calling your mummsy.

This morning I at least got 2 out of 3. In my inability to properly read labels, I opened a cream-based soup, tentatively tried a nibble, and promptly gave the rest to O-ren. What I really want is hot and sour soup, and if somebody would be so kind as to fetch that for me, I'd be much obliged.

So I called mi momisita from the comforts of an ocean of warm covers. And like so many of our conversations, she waxes reminiscent on her favorite childhood Erin stories. (And although this picture is of me in 7th grade, it will have to suffice... I can't find any younger pictures of me right now.)

When you were still very young and in your car seat, you would always ask why-questions. We'd be driving into Jeff, and each why-question would build off the next until I couldn't answer them anymore. We'd often end up at the library in order to find answers that could satisfy you. You kept this up until you were probably about 11, and I think you only stopped then because I couldn't answer you anymore. But you were never satisfied having a simple answer; you always kept pushing until you understood it for yourself.

I remember when you started Kindergarten and I met Ms. Bunselmeyer for the first parent-teacher conference. She said that you wouldn't answer a question unless you were certain you were correct and that because she hadn't seen you make a mistake yet, she was worried how you would deal with that.

And listening to Mum tell me this story makes me think about my current M.O. I look at every corner of my life and find that I haven't changed at all, except to perhaps become more demanding of myself. What would Ms. Bunselmeyer say if she knew how I'm dealing with my inability to be perfect?

Goopity, Goop, Goop, Goopums (But I don't like goop!)

Who knows where that mysterious red tube of former shoe gluing glory has gone...
...and who cares?! Because ladies and gentlemen, I found the amazing Amazing Goop! That's right, folks. It's amazing AND it's goop! What a great word that is. Let's all say it together, shall we?

goop

GOOP!

goooooooop

goopgoopgoopgoop

Wasn't that just amazing? Feel free to say this lovely word while gooping your fingers together and scratching your nose! Or glop some on the floor and watch the cat goop it between her toes! (Oooo, I rhyme!) Your gooping fun will never end when your shoes you try to mend!

Bullets to the Brain

I can't:
- find my shoe glue.
- abandon my favorite pair of shoes to the trashcan for a new pair. (I also technically need 3 other new pairs to replace others that are also on their supposed death beds.)
- allow my insecurities to dictate how I view and interact with others.
- seem to stop though.
- continue to justify my actions.
- help but adore O-ren so much that I'm about ready to erect a gigantic silver monument of her in some small remote village.
- stop the songs in my head.
- stop the songs in my head from leaking out.
- carry a tune to save my life unless I'm belting it out.
- stop my mind from dwelling on the unobtainable.
- stop my heart from dwelling on the unobtainable.
- just take what I want b/c it's called kidnapping and maybe kinda sorta slightly illegal.
- do somebody else's job, but I would if I only knew how and if it meant getting the job done properly.

I am:
- needy.
- sorry.
- convinced that my fundamental emotions can be neither created nor destroyed.
still completely clueless on how to deal with those emotions.
- neither simple nor complex.
- in neither agreement nor contradiction with myself.
- still far too over-analytical.
- having way too much fun watching O-ren perform high-speed drive-by battings of the bits of my leftover Bruschetta chicken I gave her. (It is apparently a yellow-level security threat.)
- spoiling that cat, I know... I know.
- jealous.
- not taking control of aspects of my life.
- not sure if I want to if it means forfeiting what I want.
- emotional toxic waste and to be avoided at all costs.
- not sure if I will go home for Christmas.
- desperately in need of several doctors appointments.
- not sure of my rationale for one of those appointments.
- currently singing along with True Men to Kirksville Paradise. (Tell me, why are we so blind to see that the 'Ville is where we need to be?)
- lonely.
- pathetically seeking connection in a frigid and isolating medium.
- not able to escape reality despite the frequent and desperate attempts.
- not cleaning the litter box though I should be.

What's better than being super sized?

Simpson-ized, of course!





Yes, this is, in fact, what I do with my free time. :D tee hee. I Simpson-ize O-ren and myself. Now I have proof that my skin is as jaundiced as a Simpsons character







Speaking of that sexy feline, she snuggled up for a nap to help me deal with the crappy days that were last Saturday and Sunday. Could she BE any more snuggable? I think not!


But WOW - I look so much like Dad here! Look at those Dumbo-esque Werner ears and the jaw line that's been attacked by a wood router with a double roundover bit! When did that happen? And why no Mom 'n' Goscha elvin features?

Not in Nottingham

Truly, it has been a topsy turvy day. (Listen, and Clopin will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of a man and a monster.)

The Move... The Unpacking... The Learning to Block Boxes Out of My Reality Set

Woo! It's 9pm and I'm able to call it quits for the day! I even got a whopping 4 boxes unpacked, lol. I've been promising pictures of the apartment for awhile, so with my few remaining seconds of consciousness, let me share a few. Although I know where my camera is, I have no idea where the connector cable is to transfer them to my Mac. Ergo, camera phone... sucky though it may be.

This view from one of the many trips down 385 is much nicer than last Weds. night's. I got to test out my driving skills on a Nonconnahbahn obstacle course comprised of my furniture.

Welcome to Casa de Buck. Boxes on the right are headed to Redblur's in the morning. They are hiding the lawnmower and weed eater. hehe. You can, however, see O-ren sitting with Aaron as he reads and tries to get over his cold.

To the left of the living room picture, you can enter the dining room here. At least, there's a dining room somewhere under the boxes of books and shtuff that I have yet to identify. There in the back is the behemoth of a china hutch that has effectively broken the backs of two men. See that door in the back? Walk with me into the kitchen...

And I'm so glad you came with me! You can't see all the boxes on the fridge, washer, and dryer just off of this picture on the right, but I think I almost have enough boxes in sight to properly convey the sense of disarray here. Ok, so those are the three main rooms. I'm not showing you my bedroom... although I assure you it's just as box-filled and messy.

But I just have to show you the spare bedroom, well... actually this is about half of the spare bedroom. Even if I panned out and captured the other side of the room, you wouldn't be able to see past another bookcase that's barricading off that side. But yeah, underneath all those pillows on the left is a love seat... and if you're brave enough to wade chest-deep into the boxes in the middle, would you PLEASE bring me any one of the dozen items that I lost in this jungle?!

Work Break! :)

Tee hee. I got to use the word "gargantuan" in my meeting minutes today.

"You know I've always liked that word 'gargantuan,' and I so rarely have an opportunity to use it in a sentence." :D

Correction

Yes, my master! I obey!

Thanks to Redblur's cunning strategery, I'm officially heading out to dinner at her place. :) I'm an unruly individual who obeys no man... but then, a master chief is akin to Chuck Norris. And we all know that Chuck Norris is god. :)

Public Whining

No less than 10 seconds ago, I turned down an invitation to eat a positively scrumptious dinner with Redblur and She-Who-Should-Be-Cloned so that I can continue working on the 50 pages of minutes that I must have complete before my wittle head touches pillow. This is me pouting that it is humanly impossible to finish the 20 pages that remain in time for dinner.

And now my stomach is growling at me. Can't say as I blame it.

Oh, and for those of you out there wondering, Aaron and are officially all moved into the apartment. We currently live in a 2-bedroom, 2-bath storage unit. A lawnmower and weed eater in my living room are not exactly ideal decorations, if that gives you any idea. I have everything I'd ever need... but I have no idea which box it's in and no way to access that box even if I did.

But underneath the whining and serious need for sleep (and homemade chutney), did you know that I'm actually happy? lol

Southern Exposure

Question: What's more embarrassing than a coworker pointing out that you splashed pizza sauce on your shirt?

Answer: A coworker pointing out that you have on purple undies. But, as Meerkat pointed out, at least I was wearing some!

Who slapped me with a happy stick?

It's often much easier to be jaded... especially since that's the fashion anymore. But gosh darn it, I'm not! I don't tire easily of something if once I've liked it. New is good, but old is just new again every time I experience it. So that even if I've heard a song 60 bajillian times, the 60 bajillian and first time is just as good (or better) than the first.

I say this because I'm listening to the same playlist that I've been playing all weekend... songs that I've heard so many times that I know how to mirror my breathing rhythms to the singers'. And despite the fact that these songs have been lasered into my memory umpteen times, and despite the fact that I personally created the playlist, I still (literally) clap my hands and squeal at just about every other song that plays. Because, yes, they just make me that happy. And although I shouldn't be surprised when any given song plays, it's always as if I'm discovering it for the first time.

Which brings me to Christmas music. When I walked into a store last week and heard the same cheesy holiday tunes blasted from every aisle, I gave the obligatory eye roll. But then I felt guilty... because although that response is programmed into me, it's not true. I love Christmas music. On my iPod, I have nearly 100 Christmas songs and 10 versions of "O Holy Night". (My favorite is by Vince Gill, from Breath of Heaven because it's pure and uncomplicated.) I listen to Christmas music all year long, any time my shuffle brings one up. And I can and will listen to the Mannheim Steamroller's "Carol of the Bells" and Tran-Siberian Orchestra's "Ukranian Bell Carol" for hours straight. Because I can. And will. And everything that the TSO puts out IS fantastic in any weather. What happened to the children we used to be who loved everything about the holidays? Who never got tired of Christmas decorations no matter how early they were put up? Simple pleasures, people. Simple pleasures! The perfect holiday doesn't exist, but the music still plays. And I will enjoy the enjoyable. Really, there is so much to enjoy...

Which also reminds me - Christmas lights and holiday yard decorations. Now, I for one am not a personal fan of gigantic plastic Santas on Harleys or yards so cluttered with cardboard elves and candy canes that you can't see grass... I'll be the first to admit that that stuff makes my eyes twitch. BUT! I refuse to Grinch somebody else's obvious holiday spirit, even by commenting to myself as I drive by. You'll hear me make a Joey-esque "Woah!" sound, but that's about it. Because ultimately, I give them kudos for still being able to enjoy the holiday spirit. And yes, even if all those decorations are up a week before Turkey Day. Ooh, and I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever tire of put-putting around miscellaneous neighborhoods to oooh and aaah the Christmas lights. Ever. You can take the tackiest yard decorations, slap some twinkles on them, wait for the sun to go down - and viola! Magic! Beauty! Because they are, to quote Legend of Drunken Master, "so spa-ko-we!"

So if you're out shopping and happen to see me beboppin' down the aisles, humming along with whatever holiday melody happens to be blasting, don't roll your eyes - join in! And then buy the ingredients for gingersnaps and give me a few the next day. I promise to love you forever! :D

You make Mondays my favorite day!

Though I have said it before, some things can never be said enough. I have the most amazing group of coworkers! Hugs all around to Redblur, Indiana Jones, Charming Illy, Meerkat, Kimborough Fair, and Optimus Wicked. (Thus arranged by their respective distances to my puka since I can't exactly put them in a round robin here.) They must be getting paid a little extra to call me their friend because I know I can't be this lucky!

In a single day, I have:
- harassed
- received/sent text messages from/to
- crashed the apartment of
- giggled like a school girl with
- staked out the houses of
- made punch-drunk (all natural, baby!) phone calls to
- been given a very specialized tour by
- and (most importantly) received heartfelt support from
one or all members of the most awesome Band of Swine Wranglers known to USN history.

Laundry Basket

Let me take one more bite of only-the-most-perfect-grilled-cheese-ever and one last slurp of tomato bisque, and I'll begin. (Mmm, so nummy.)

There is the ongoing internal battle over finding the happy balance between being myself and being what other people want me to be. Oh, let's face it - what I am really struggling against is being what I think I need to be for others. Despite any progress made in this arena, I couldn't open up with my closest family. If I hadn't received a recent kick in the pants in this regard, who's to say if and when I would have taken the leap. But kick I did receive, and when forced to deal with the issues I'd tried to hide... well, I realized that I'd rather deal with the messy truth than have to continue my practiced song and dance. The rhythm was forced, and my throat hurt.

Last night I called Mum and Jeanette; I stopped pretending that I had the perfect marriage. And though I will not air that laundry here, it is an immense relief simply have it out in the open. Obviously, there is much to be said, but this is not the place.

And though I'm alone for Thanksgiving, I prefer it this way. Gives me time to be alone, to think. ... and to pack.

Nan zi Han

OMG! omgomgomg.... I really have to post this... I mean... you have no idea how much I adore Jackie Chan and the movie Mulan.... but this?! This is just too hilarious...

It feels sacrilegious to be laughing this hard at someone I respect so much... but... hehehe... Oh, it hurts to laugh this much.... hahahahaha.... oh... ow.. hehe...

Help! I'm addicted to YouTube!

When eating chicken mahkani (because hey, butter in any language is fanTABulous) and sipping on the very best masala chai in town, one must have the proper musical accompaniment. :)

"24/7 I Think of You" by 36 China Town

I know you're all out there dancing with me, right? Of course! And I love that they incorporate actual sign language into the song in several places. Either India uses ASL or they aren't much different. And hey, Karia Sharid isn't so bad to watch either! :)

Ok... and although it has nothing to do with India... I love origami... and stop motion... and I'm just a geek for seeing the guts of a finished product...

Woo!

And heheheheheh.... ok, I can't help it... claymation AND drunken boxing?

And so it begins

When a sentimental pack rat moves, it is no small feat. In the picture below, you can see, mostly in boxes, 2/3 of the books from the computer room. The pile up front is the excruciatingly painful goodbye pile. *sniff* my babies... That the majority of books are in other rooms makes my back hurt just thinking about hauling them all around.
In the 5 hours that I've been packing, I've gotten distracted more times than I can count. I found old pictures of family that I'd forgotten about... half of my photo albums needed to be re-examined... chapter 13 of my college physics textbook had to be read... unearthed cds had to be loaded into iTunes... and, of course, all of the memories that come flooding back as I sift through stuff had to be relived and enjoyed all over again.

Speaking of stuff, the pitch pile has got to get bigger than the keep pile. Ugh... more self-inflicted torture.

From Beneath the Hoody

First of all, my apologies. To everyone that I dismissed, ignored, shooed, and otherwise insulted, I'm sorry. Now that I am home and safely isolated, let me apologize, again, and explain.

You've got questions, I've got answers.
How are you feeling? Light-headed, dizzy... kind of like I'm drugged... poor sense of balance, screwed up equilibrium... sensitive to light, sound, movement.

What's the cause? I have no idea. Since I like to blame things on myself, I'm going to say it's psychosomatic. If it makes you feel better (and if it means you'll leave me alone), I'll tell you that I'll have it checked out.

Has this happened before? often? Since I'm anemic, I'm used to it on a very minor scale. I get up quickly, I act like Cap'n Jack Sparrow for a second or two, shake it off, and remember to take my iron vitamin the next day. Life goes on as normal. But spells like this? I've been light-headed more in the past week or so than normal. I've only had one other time when I had a spell that was this intense and long-lasting... and that was back in February-March.

What's with the attitude today? Ah, here's the real question. As way of apology, I feel compelled to explain in far more detail than anyone cares. And, since it makes it easier for me, let me walk through today. I haven't really felt well all day, or the past few days for that matter... but I was able to get by just fine. Until, that is, early afternoon today. Not able to function properly, and not wanting anyone to pester me or worry about me, I crawled into the side office and laid down in the dark under the desk. (After alerting key persons so that I wouldn't get in trouble for slacking off.) As noted above, I don't really know why I'm feeling like this. It scares me. I just wanted someplace where I could block out light and motion, where I could keep my head down, and where I could isolate myself.

Why do you want to isolate yourself? The best I can do is compare myself to an injured wild animal. I will slink into the woods alone and bare my teeth should anyone get too close. I don't like to admit that there's a problem with me that I don't understand and can't fix. But ultimately? I don't want anyone to worry. So as I'm meditating under the corner office desk, I am interrupted. I'm startled; I'm mortified. I zigzag back to my desk, praying no one catches me crying, and make a bee-line for my car. And again, I meditate. I think... well, minimal damage. One person knew before, now two people know. I'm feel a little better, so I decide to make my way back to my puka. I'm hoping that no one will notice me and that everyone will just leave me alone. But no, while I'm walking back and thinking that I'm alone, I'm ambushed. Now a third person knows. I don't want to answer how I'm feeling, and no, I really don't want to explain anything. I don't care to make conversation and hear how you're sorry. I just want to pretend that everything's normal. Just leave me the hell alone. So now there's two people to whom I've been rude. I continue to be rude as I run away from them. I feel like there's a pack of dogs after me. Back at the puka, I kick myself in the ass for being such a... well... ass. I force myself to make small talk. All the while trying to wish myself alone. I figure it's easier than baring my teeth and then having to apologize afterward. And as I'm congratulating myself on the thought that maybe I can maintain this operation until I'm home, a concerned person calls me out in front of another person. ...who immediately is all concern and comes over to check in on me. My civilized response? I bared my teeth. But, I suppose, the good thing in this is that by now, pretty much everyone has had their hand bitten after offering it to me. I'm left alone for the most part. But let me just say this - if I was dismissive, insulting, and rude to you... it just means that I trust you. I have screwed up ways of paying compliments, but um... yeah, sorry 'bout that.

Did you ever get to feeling better? It's 8:02 pm, and yeah, I've started to finally feel better within the last 30 minutes. This coincides perfectly with my phone call with Ashums. Cuz she's just that awesome.

Why didn't you just go home early? And what, drive into a ditch? Before you ask, I didn't let anyone drive me home because I'm a stubborn-assed, German-blooded Missourian... and well, I don't want to be a burden. I stayed at work until the last stragglers were leaving... at which point I transferred over to my car. Sat there for another 3o minutes until I became hungry and lonely. Lest you be overly concerned, I went from being my typical Speed Racer to Snail Chaser... much to the annoyance of the cars behind me on Coll-Arl.

What can I do to help? Leave me alone. There are only three people (and one snuggly gray furball) that I would let close to me right now. And unless you've let me lay my head in your lap before, you're not one of those three. Don't take it personally when I don't want to talk to you. I'm not feeling well, I'm not sociable, and I certainly do not want to explain any of this again.

I think; therefore...

Sometimes I think that...
... I collect sad thoughts like grandmas collect tea cozies.
... two inner monologues don't make a dialogue.
... a blissfully happy, un-declawed cat and silk kimonos do not mix well.

Addendum

Today's additions to the crazy 7 past days -

- Found an apartment. I'm sure I'll have lots to say and post tons of pictures in the future, so forgive me if I don't say much at the current moment.
- Discovered that if I'm not going to drive up to see family for Thanksgiving, my family's driving down to see me! I won't spend the weekend alone after all. :)

All in the course of a week

So for those of you who don't know, the house is officially sold. Our realtor is so fantastic that she not only met me along my way to work Friday morning in her pj's and wild hair so that I could sign the papers, but she also took a 1% reduction on her fee which amounts to about $2,000. And really, I could wax poetical on Tommie for days - she's really just that wonderful - but these are two of the most obvious reasons why she rocks.

So, quick and dirty:
- Offer on the house Wednesday afternoon
- Signed the papers Friday morning
- Will soon owe Jeanette and Berry (sis and bro-law) what remains of our souls since they're loaning us the money to cover closing costs, pre-pay penalties, etc.
- Moving out end of the month
- Currently looking at apartments in Midtown - have seen about 10 so far, looking at about as many today (eek)
- Aaron started the chemist position at Buckman Labs today - conveniently located close to where we'll be moving

Told ya I'm a dryad :P

I am 67% Faerie, 67% Angel, 67% Mermaid, 42% Dragon, 25% Werewolf, and 0% Demon (thank you very much)

So maybe this isn't the most original post I've had in a while, but then... most of my recent posts haven't been, so *shrug* ... whatever. Technically the Faerie, Angel, and Mermaid in me are all tied for first place, but quite honestly, Faerie wins out by far. (But hey, I'm proud of my 42% dragon heritage, hehe) Click on the orange Faerie chica to the right to find out which of the above creatures you are - and then leave me a comment and tell me the results.

Faerie: Aren't you a cute little flying person? Faeries are earth spirits. They live among each element (wood!) completely hidden. They have cousins called Pixies, however, who are very mischievous, enjoy tormenting other creatures for fun, and have a bad reputation for finding a creature and clinging to them until death. You, a Faerie, can be somewhat close to a Pixie, (trust me, I know) but mostly you are loving, playful, and carry with you a child-like enthusiasm for life. When does the child-like become childish? Hide among the pedals of a Daisy, you are a Faerie. What can I add to this? Yep, yep, and yeppers. As part of a larger picture that I started a while back (and need to make myself finish), I even created an image of myself in my true dryad form.

Angel: Angels are the guardians of all things, from the smallest ant to the tallest tree. They give inspiration, love, hope, and positive emotion. They live among humans without being seen. They are the good in all things, and if you feel alone, don't fear. They are always watching. Often times they merely stand by, whispering into the ears of those who feel lost. They would love nothing more then to reveal themselves, but in today's society, this would bring havoc and many unneeded questions. I have no idea how I could qualify as equal parts Angel. As the most selfish person I know, this persona fits me least.

Mermaid: Mermaids are beautiful women who trick sailors into becoming completely entranced by their haunting voices (well, no one's ever said I have a lovely singing voice, but that's rarely stopped me) and found death soon after. Sigh. Not all stories of Mermaids are about gentle loving sea people. They are mystical, magical, and extremely dangerous. Sigh again. They have a way about them that brings anyone they are around to seem enchanted. Translation: I have everyone fooled. They are very mysterious creatures and to meet one... would mean certain Death. Sigh... I am equal parts Mermaid.

Peter & the Wolf

I adore YouTube... not for the Potter Puppet Pals or Red vs. Blue (but ok, so sue me if I've watched them) No, I love YouTube because I can watch live performances of Yoko Kanno (to whom I bow before), get pronunciation cues on my Japanese, check out the local wonders of Tamil Nadu where a friend is from, and watch my favorite cartoons that I can't find anywhere else (Bugs Bunny in Rabbit of Seville or Muppet Babies spoofing Star Wars and Star Trek)

And then there is this amazing find - a stop motion short of Sergei Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf. Now, first of all, I grew up with a battered, hand-me-down book, listening to the scratchy record that came with it... and as I didn't have much (anything) in the way of cool stuff growing up, I've got a soft spot in my heart for it. And I love pretty much anything in the lines of decent animation... That and I've got to admit, Suzie Templeton's 2006 short knocks the socks off anything that came before it. I mean... just... wow. Textures... muted colors... choosing to intro the music only when Peter finally leaves the yard.... wow... Anyhoo, without further ado, enjoy:



(Part 2/3)

(Part 3/3)

Ambiance

Now, I am not one to be hoity-toity, nor do I tend to expect others around me to conform to my view of reality...

But with that being said, it is NOT within my view of reality that the following conversational excerpts should be overheard when enjoying sushi and sashimi:

"My sister had a benign cyst in her uterus the size of... like to be the size of a golf ball."

"It burned to pee so bad, I just lived on the toilet. Called my female doctor - had to call him in the middle of the night - and he told me to call some 24-hour number. Took those pills for 5 solid days, and after that, I could finally pee again. I can't begin to tell you what a relief that was.

Enter ghoul and Kill Bill extra, stage right

Using candy to lure in dinner, Aaron watches and waits for his next young victim. Aaron was a ghoulish thingamabob and I was a Kill Bill extra (still wearing my vintage Asian dress with my long sword strapped across my back) We actually had a lot of candy left over this year... in no small part because Aaron sent many kids running from the house without any candy, lol. Typically he'd just play up his role when he opened the door, but occasionally I'd get into the act by acting out various scenarios. ...my favorite getting to whip out my sword (not sharp, but real) and protect the trick or treaters by driving the fiendish beastie back into the house. It was also hilarious to see Aaron silently follow the older kids who were too cool to be scared at the door... and watch them freak out and run when they realized he was hovering behind them. And although not in the same category, equally funny to watch a mother coaxing her 3-4 year old girl to say thank you to the scary growling ghoul that just gave her candy.

气韵生动: The Way

I was tense; I am relaxed. Ladies and gentlemen, my moment of Zen:

Too cute... I don't know how she puts up with herself

I know the lighting's terrible... but O-ren makes such a great parrot... makes me wish I had my eye patch from work.

And this is O-ren as of this second while I sit here at the computer, blogging about her, writing emails, singing along with The Who, and chatting with Gody. Periodically, I'm compelled to wake her up by burying my face in her tummy. ... Her current occupation, though, makes me think... a bath sounds like a really good idea.

Pretty Little Horses

I miss my babies... singing lullabies and and being one of the few loving constants in their screwed up lives. I miss my babies...

Way down yonder
in the meadow
poor little baby cries mama
birds and butterflies
peckin' out his eyes
poor little baby cries mama
Hush-a-bye
don't you cry
go to sleep my little baby
when you wake
you shall have
all the pretty little horses

Signs of Insanity

Sign of Insanity #1,984:
A Person shall be declared Insane if (s)he experiences nonstop full-body laughter for no less than 20 minutes.
Symptoms: Uncontrollable giggling, guffawing, chortling, tee hee'ing, and snorting. Apparent lack of skeletal system or muscular control. Impersonations of a human mop and inch worm.
Stipulations: Not induced by caffeine, sugar, drugs, alcohol, or apparently anything at all.
Governance: Husband shall watch Insane Person bemusedly and periodically poke Insane Person in the sides in order to observe resultant sounds and behaviors. Husband shall occasionally and without warning toss Insane Person around like a chef salad.

Updates

Facts... what are those again? Sorry to those of you who read my blog to keep up with the goings on of e. And although I would rather write a self-analysis on why a compliment can outrage me or how "Wir Haben's Getan" by Echt and "Fields of Gold" by Sting (omg, heard this song at lunch today and got sucked back in time so quickly that my head was spinning) will always represent certain periods in my life, but I'll try to stick to a straight laundry list of what's new with my life. But seriously, people. Email; call; IM. You don't always have to wait for me!

So let's see...
Still no offers on the house. The frequency with which I joke about burning it down and collecting the insurance is increasing. Can't really lower the price any without taking a loss. Taking a loss is sounding less and less like a bad idea.

Aaron's no longer washing windows and is currently working for a small DNA-analysis company in downtown Memphis. Read his thoughts on that here. He's thrilled to be away from the boss who cheated his customers and employees and to finally be back in a science setting. Meanwhile, he has an offer for a chemist position - second shift with better pay and benefits. He plans to accept this but first has to go through the drug screening which is proving a challenge since the clinic hours are only when he's working. He has a completely different interview tomorrow, *shrug*, so we'll see how that goes. But any of these three positions are not what he's really wanting. His heart is in embryology, and he's still following up on leads in that field. (Latest lead in CA)

I know my family wants updates on Earl... to which I reply that my blog will not be the means to that information. Either check his blog or call him. But just remember that some families are just naturally more private, k? (Foreign concept, I know, lol) And yes, Sis, I promise that if there is any major news, I will let you know! :)

Speaking of which, SOMEBODY in my family reading this needs to call my butt and tell me what is going on with OUR family drama!!! Oh yes, I'm talking to you and giving you an evil eye to boot. You KNOW I hate being isolated down here and completely out of the loop.

As to my job... (hey, guys *wave* lol) A while back half of my team was let go. The nature of the contractual beast, etc. etc. We're a close-knit group, and this loss was especially hard for us. Especially since then, I've been developing an unhealthy affection/dependency on our Monday evening outings and anytime we can get out of the office for lunch. SO my coworkers rock, and I'm keeping busy. Most everyone is used to me always being plugged into my iPod, nonchalantly wearing Groucho Marx glasses and pink boas while I work, and being an overall weird duck. Mum always told me to stop acting silly... lol, yeah, ya see how that turned out! :P

My kitchen smells like paradise

Rules of Baking on a Fall Sunday:
1. When a recipe calls for gouda, buy at least four times the amount needed.
2. When your kitchen is strewn with pumpkin carnage, console yourself with candied apples.
3. Always give the cat bits of chicken. Always.
4. Immediately burn all recipes calling for margarine. Flush the ashes down the toilet for good measure.
5. The only good icing is one that involves butter, cream cheese, and copious amounts of powdered sugar.
6. Do lick the beaters, spatulas, and bowls clean for all desserts.
7. Do get icing all over your face as you lick the bowl.
8. There should never be any leftover bacon.
9. Do stop periodically to jot down poem fragments on the backs of gas station receipts.
10. Recipes are more like suggestions, really.
11. And always, ALWAYS sing with all your heart and dance a crazy little dance.

Who in blue blazes is composing the underscore to my life?!

She's a cold-hearted mrow! Look into her eyes...

The face of a ferocious bird killer, off duty
(either that, or she's baiting you):

The last thing poor birdies ever see:

Aaron has found two dead birds in the backyard, one of which O-ren was still batting around. I have no problem with any of this (would be silly to resent a mrow's nature) ... but simply that O-ren is at once a lovey-dovy snuggler who nuzzles my face, neck, and chest... and a ruthless killer who toys with her victims. Interesting commentary on the multiplicity of human/animalistic nature to be found within this snapshot.

And as a completely tangent sidebar - another of my photos is being published. Yeah! I may not be able to paint or sculpt as well as my mind envisions... but a camera is a wonderful cheat, a welcome leveling of the playing field for those of us whose hands will not properly communicate with the brain in order to capture our dreams. Speaking of which... I have GOT to get my butt out of bed before sunrise some weekend so that I can capture the fog rising off the pond/island/field. Every morning I go to work, it captivates me. I already have the filters and other Photoshop adjustments planned out... I know the triptych-ish storyboard arrangement... And a 30-minute photo shoot is all I need... but oh! to sacrifice sleeping till 10:30 on a Saturday morning? sigh... I know I can't procrastinate much longer though; the seasons are working against me.

Phantom Song

HELP! I'm desperately trying to recall a specific song from the late 80's - early 90's, but I haven't heard it in yeeeears and as such, can't remember any lyric snippets, singer, anything.

Was listening to Melissa Etheridge's "I Want to Come Over" on the way home from work, and her voice reminded me of this phantom song.... which oddly enough, I adored as a child and would sing along as I cradled my little black radio in my lap. Odd, I say, because of the nature of the song. Essentially, the woman is driving along in the rain and picks up a young man standing on the side of the road. They have a one-night (maybe multiple-night) stand. The song mostly consists of her telling him that she needed something only he could provide, how great it was, and that if he sees her on the street with her boyfriend, to not be surprised if she acts like she doesn't know him. Or something to that effect. It's annoying the piss out of me that I can't remember this song.... annoying to the point that it is consuming my entire evening type annoying.

Somebody, PLEASE! help me figure out this song!!

Why watch tv when there's the internet?!

Lol, because life's too short not to be wasted on the internet - I found Peet Gelderblom's blog,
Lost in Negative Space (between the lines, beyond the screen, beside the point), and couldn't resist touting its spectacular ability to suck me in and leave me laughing. Embarrassing Movie Posters #15 - need I say more? :)

I need a Hiro (I'm holding out til the end of the night)

When Aaron and I bought our house, one of my first decisions - and I was most adamant about it - was that the tv wouldn't go in the living room. In fact, I don't want a tv anywhere that will too easily suck me in. So upstairs went the tv where you have to make a conscientious decision to watch a specific show. I hate how tvs suck people's lives away, how they drain time that could be spent uh... surfing the internet? lol, yeah, I'll get off my high horse. Anyhoo, I know that I get too easily sucked into tv... I mean - the Discovery and History channels... like quicksand.

In any given week, I watch exactly 3 hours of tv. To these shows I have developed an unhealthy obsession: Heros, My Name Is Earl, Scrubs, The Office, and because it's sandwiched in on Thursday night, 3o Rock. First, let me just state that I am SO pouting right now because Hiro wasn't in tonight's episode... and that is just WRONG. Wrong like eating pickles and Tabasco sauce with Cherry Garcia wrong. The one thing that could make up for no Blue Monkey tonight... and they deny me him! I've been prone to dramatic fits of agony today... and this is one of them. (and yes, you can ask Aaron - there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth)

But singing goofy songs makes me feel better.... too bad I don't speak more than a handful of Hindi... I have no idea what I'm singing, lol But I swear, I'll be the next big Bollywood hit!

Shenanigans

Oh, where to begin?! When celebrating the birthday of Charming Illy, karaoke and craziness must ensue:

--Pirate ship trimmed with pink fur and ribbon...
--Random and frequent butt-grabbing and kissing of coworkers...
--Giggly and completely off-key rendition of Dolly Parton's Nine to Five...
--Birthday Boy trying to sing despite his throng of adoring - but very distracting - groupies who:
-----Threw themselves at the feet of Birthday Boy...
-----Threw their bras at Birthday Boy...
-----Flashed Birthday Boy...
-----Draped their bras on Birthday Boy...

(and no, Mum, that wasn't all just me) lol Course, maybe I should have gotten sloshed... then I'd at least have an excuse for my role crazy shenanigans, lol :D But it was funny, when everyone was heading home, I - the person who'd had 2 beers and 4 glasses of water over a 4-hour period - was the one about whom everyone was worried!

For the above mentioned craziness and every moment in between, I love my coworkers. When I wasn't being a complete goof, chatting with friends, or forcing Howell to dance, I enjoyed just leaning back in my chair and watching the happy faces of some of my favorite people.

Splish Splashing Away

As everyone should know by now, I'm a rain-dancing fool. Since I never watch the news and my sky had been a perfect blue and white Willow pattern, I'd no other way of knowing what was just moments away. Luckily a friend called and announced the impending storm. My response was, of course, to immediately set out on a walk through the neighborhood to await the release.

Standing by the lake, I decide to whip my cell phone out of it's little plastic baggy to capture the only bright break in an other solid gray slate. To bad you can't see the rain drops aimed at my head. It was pouring at this point. :)


Don't know if you can see it, but I also had my iPod in a plastic baggy stuffed in my pocket. So yeah, here's me throwing my arms up, embracing the rain and a beautiful song. And you just know I'm singing away, completely immune to the strange looks from neighbors.





Ok, so the waving hand is lost in translation, leaving me with a phantom limb... but nonetheless -

HIIIIIIIII!!!! :D

Scavenger Hunt

First and foremost - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REDBLUR!

What started out as a quick grocery shopping trip as our house was being shown quickly turned into a scavenger hunt that took me all over Memphis. 3 Starbucks runs have been made. (A tiramasu recipe that calls for 14 shots LIES! It takes 30.) A 5 minute post office run for 2 cent stamps turns into a 20 minute sojourn which required consolation in the form of Star Wars stamps. The quest for mascarpone cheese took us to The Fresh Market in G'town, then back home - only to discover that we didn't have enough of that either, so off to The Fresh Market on White Station since the 1st store ran out. But first I get the bright idea that I want to check out the Memphis library since I'd never been in... and since Aaron was a helpless passenger in my car of whims, away we went, bumping along Poplar. But no! The Memphis library just isn't far enough from The Fresh Market on White Station, so I take the scenic route to downtown Memphis before swinging back on Union. Oh, and a tiramisu recipe that calls for 24 ladyfingers? All lies - try 40. And technically I need 50% more filling... but I refuse to buy more mascarpone cheese at this point. The good thing about this recipe? I have rum left over... or well, I did, lol.

So what exactly have I done today other than get the shit kicked out of me by a tiramisu recipe? Irritated my husband by continually announcing that the recipe lied again and pointing in the direction of the store/Starbucks. Um... and collapsed on the couch? I have a feeling tonight will find me zonked out in the tub, lol.

Um... yeah

Tonight's post is brought to you by:
- Dido (mostly Hunter and Slide)
- Frou Frou
- St. Vincent
- They Might Be Giants (esp. I am Retarded and Ana Ng)
- U2 (Window in the Skies)
- William Fitzsimmons
- and liberal application of the chicken dance song! :D
oh wait, a late entry - Peter Gabriel

Today was/is... well, interesting. From serious to slap happy, from exhausted to energetic, from quiet contemplation to chatterbox. And many other interesting combinations therein. After lunch with coworkers, I went from nearly falling asleep in my puka to being punch drunk as I shifted into over-tired. I'm just glad people put up with me.

House of Cards, House of Straw

Oh, I ask you - what's life without the drama? I love my family, but what tangled webs they weave. Pride... miscommunication... fear... and good ol' German stubbornness, let's not forget. To hear from such great distances that my family's delicate house of cards is collapsing, that those I love dearest are clawing at each other.... to know that there is such pain, and I am helpless, once again. Useless. Perhaps this house of cards is too big for my bandages this time, but I can't help but think, "If I were there..." (Hmm, this tune sounds familiar, don't you think?) But being thus removed from the immediacy of the idiocy also keeps things relatively objective. Life is so very simple that we have to screw with it until it's as complex as our psychoses. Why won't a bleeding heart heal wounds?

I'm tempted to count how many negatives have popped up recently that could leave me miserable, could drag me back to stay in my old self. But it's unnecessary... for all my emotional zigzagging and roller coastering, it takes very little to make me happy. I accept the zigzags for what they are, knowing that I'll zig out of my zag when I'm ready. There's something so freeing knowing that I can allow myself to feel miserable, knowing that tomorrow I'll be fine again. And despite every problem that bombards me, just knowing that I can feel miserable if I want and still be fine is enough. Being weak is a great strength. Oh, I am tired... hello, pillow.

Without Cue Cards

How did I not get the last chapters of this script? Something in the back of my head says I'm supposed to do something, feel a certain way, say a certain thing.

Why, here is a pencil... or perhaps I prefer improv.

Genki de ne!!!

Happy Tuesday, everybo… What’s that you say, it’s Thursday? Oh, go on and tell me another one. No, seriously, the 27^th? What the... Oh hey! That means that Aaron’s flying out to his Dallas interview today! Bonsai, bonsai, bonsai, watashi no danna!

Bugs Bunny - Baton Bunny (1959)

Turn down the volume and ask who conducts the music of your life?

Rain on a Sunny Day

In order to make lemonade, one must have lemons. Luckily, they are on sale.

My father-in-law, Earl... what to say? The details of his deteriorating health are just that, details. I don't wish to be drowned by them, but the flood is difficult to avoid. No, what is important at the moment is the washed out gully that is left behind, this feeling of stark helplessness and sadness. But it seems that every bend in the road throws another obstacle, another chasm, another terrifying unknown.

A call late Friday evening, leaving you with more questions and fears and guilt. Should we have packed a quick bag to arrive home at 3:00 am? Supposed to work an extra shift Saturday, today... money, money, money... is it an excuse not to face what is in Missouri? A way to avoid not feeling helpless and useless?

And just now a call from Laura-Mom. Earl won't be released from the hospital today like they had initially promised. Such volumes spoken in the intakes of each breath like her voice was broken into. Everyone trying to protect everyone else, causing more worry than alleviating. As if the unknown is less frightening than the truth. This last call finally the catalyst to convince Aaron. A few items thrown into a bag, have only to wait for Aaron to get home from this extra shift so that we can begin the 7.5 hour drive. I don't care that we will only have a few waking hours there; I'd carry Aaron forcibly if need be.

What do I choose to see in life today? So many problems, so many lives in turmoil. I have no choice but to throw my hands up and surrender... the trick is choosing what I surrender to.

Starry Eyed

I miss the stars. I miss the stars. I miss the stars.
O-ren and I in the backyard, staring at a sky that has faded in the wash. So few stars... a garish western borealis drowns them all. A third of the stars are deviating from the flight plan. Blink, blink, blink; they mock me.

But I can see my constellation, Cassiopeia. (I'm nothing like the original, thank you very much.) No, I identify with this constellation because it identifies with me - this single constellation is my entire name, nee. E M W And looking at my initials scrawled in the sky centers me.

The pines along the fence are surreal - they glow orange before shifting to magenta and then back to orange again while I watch them. The neighbors' light suddenly assaults me; the trees are back to green. The mood is broken; I preferred them orange.

Tao of Dove

Wise are the ways of the Dove chocolates.
"Temptation is fun... giving in is better."

And wtf... Redblur just shot my bubble puppy!

... I wonder how many limericks I can write before the day is through.

My triptych for today

Fitzgerald and Holiday

Tonight is dedicated to Ella and Billie.
Scroll down to pause my automatic tunefeed... listen to "Strange Fruit".

Who are you going to believe, me or your own eyes?

Why is it that people immediately look at me when they find a rubber horsefly in their pistachios or at the bottom of the coffee pot? Really now, it can’t be the Groucho glasses; they make me look distinguished – a veritable Julius Henry, Jr. The sheep and horse finger puppets? Surely not! They are friendly, unlike Redblur’s kamikaze-bun puppet. And you can’t blame my SCIDs bubble puppy. How could that zeiseh punim ever incite mischief? (But help, bubble puppy needs a name before the killer horsefly eats him!!!)

Today I have learned that:

• the Dollar Store never gets old; happiness is down every aisle, especially when you're with friends who get as excited over squishy brains and pirate gear as you.
• perfecting office feng sui is an excellent excuse to crawl around in other people’s pukas.
• RyRy looks adorable in red pigtails; Redblur and I have the footage to prove it.

Now, everyone! Go forth and listen to the Garden State soundtrack while laughing at Groucho Marx, Mae West, and Oscar Wilde quotes even though you’ve read them all umpteen times before.

Meth Lab Hoedown

Refrain:

Oooh, there’s a meth lab on my street!

There’s a meth lab on my street!

A box of wine while ya watch‘em is divine

There’s a meth lab on my street!

Hookers and vagrants may come and go,

But the repo man, he beats them all.

Cookin’ and itchin’ and rakin’ in dough

Until the cops take in the haul.

Refrain:

Oooh, there’s a meth lab on my street!

There’s a meth lab on my street!

A box of wine while ya watch‘em is divine

There’s a meth lab on my street!

The Cooper Young Fest is mighty fun,

For buying cast iron and glazed green men.

But for action, my street can’t be outdone.

Meth labs are far better than an opium den!

Refrain:

Oooh, there’s a meth lab on my street!

There’s a meth lab on my street!

A box of wine while ya watch‘em is divine

There’s a meth lab on my street!

Somewhere between emerald and jade

I made another buddy today – the other office custodian (I’m already buddies with the first – I snared him with the cunning use of candy). When the new custodian came by, I shared the music to which I was listening at the time (The Fray and The Cure) and got some recommendations for good blues/jazz which I sorely need. I lost the majority of my collection some time ago and, as the cds were burned by a friend and not labeled, I never knew to what/whom I was listening. There’s always a room for a little more soul in my life.

There is much that could be said; there is little that needs be. After a whirlwind week with enough highs and lows to make me think I’m a meth addict, I’m left empathetic and thoughtful. The clichéd adage, “The world’s not fair,” comes to mind once again, but when my analytical gears come to a rest, I am left with equanimity and a full heart. I simply like to think that I am perceptive and honest enough to see all sides for what they are and to accept each equally. As to this week, I am glad to see negative events bring out the positive; I am inundated in examples. I decorate this kaleidoscopic room with impressionist paintings of each to the soft notes of cello and viola that float in like a breeze. Somewhere between the shades of unworked emerald and jade, I watch each moment whirl and undulate as invisible arms envelope me within the nest of a soft tattered blanket. Much could be said; little needs be.

Cause & Effect

Cause: Indiana Jones’ spectacular performance in “Even a Blind Squirrel Can Sometimes Find a Nut”

Effect: Instantaneous full-body laughter that makes it necessary to clap both hands over your mouth in a futile attempt to not disturb puka neighbors

Cause: One too many iced chai lattes

Effect: Mean Gene Employee: e, are you married?

e: Huh? Am I what? Um, yes.

Mean Gene Employee: I’ll have to go tell my manager that.

Memories of a Great Snuggle Partner

Thanks to everyone for your hugs and support, even when I'm distancing myself... especially when I'm distancing myself. A few of my favorite Chyna photos are collected here.

Chickity Chyna

It’s difficult to get ready in the morning when tears wash off make-up faster than you can apply it. In the last few days, I’ve shed plenty of tears, but then I cry easily. That I should be crying this morning is really no big surprise… but in this case, the source was not watching Zach Braff yelling from the top of construction equipment into an infinite abyss. Chyna’s health took a sharp decline last night; I found her in my side of the closet, lower half immobilized, fur matted in urine, crying in her broken mrower when she saw me. That I had to come in to work today pisses me off considerably… and leaves me feeling even guiltier and miserable-er. Because I slept in this morning, allotting absolutely no extraneous time, I couldn’t lay down on the closet floor by her for a few moments. I couldn’t even handle getting ready in the bathroom next to her. I had to isolate myself in the other downstairs bathroom where she could not hear me and start crying again. The last thing I wanted was to have to act like a heartless bastard. …She’s still alone now, abandoned, until Aaron or I can get off work early. …. sigh …. Thank goodness for Simon & Garfunkel; they're helping me out today.

Dr. Bob would be proud

Prescription for After-Lunch Sleepies: 2-3 Pixie Stix, taken sublingually. For maximum effectiveness, take with bottle of Mountain Dew. In case of power failure, consult shredded paper bean bag.