My morning, let me show you it.

Lester woke me up this morning about... 4:45? Ish? He was coughing, and as he's got a history of Congestive Heart Failure, I jumped up and gave him an extra dose of his diuretic. We settled down again for a little while to let that get to work, maybe fifteen minutes, and then we went outside.

So, I step outside, and Lester goes off to make his rounds [base of porch stairs, neighbors cactus plant, edge of yard, tree, round the corner to the back yard] when some movement across the street catches my eye. I am hyper-aware at this point because it is 5AM and all sorts of nonsense can happen at 5AM, see.

WELL, THERE WAS NONSENSE GOING ON IN A CAR. There were two people in there, doing UNSPEAKABLE THINGS. And I'm not talking satanic baby-eating rituals. Well, one of them was eating something, but THAT IS NOT THE POINT. If you can't do it in a BED at FIVE IN THE MORNING, you probably shouldn't be doing it. Unless you're super-into kinky car sex, and then well, bon chance to you, friend. Good luck with the public lewdness.

Anyway, they got interrupted when two dudes strolled down the sidewalk on their side of the street, and they did a HILARIOUS impression of nonchalance. Then they stuck around for a few more minutes, presumably to right clothing and whatnot, and then took off.

Meanwhile, back at camp, Lester was done doing his business and we went back inside. Tried going back to bed for a bit, but he kept coughing, so I made an Executive Decision and took him up to Falls Road Animal Hospital, since it's the only one open at FIVE IN THE MORNING.

Got there [after getting turned around TWICE], they fussed over his cuteness appropriately, and did some diagnostic Stuff. I sat around and read my Regency Romance novel, and tried not to fret too hard.

The vet came back in and said basically, "Yep, he's old."

So, he got his Lasix upped, and added a new heart med [which I am having trouble finding online...], and we'll just see how he does with that. I'll make an appointment to see his real vet tomorrow afternoon. He's quiet a nice dog, and I hope they'll let me keep him a while longer.

<3

Vacation follow-up

So, I didn't take a single picture, as I've mentioned before, but my friends did [and did well], so here's a peek at theirs:

Lindley's post and photostream .

And a picture of me reading [I did that a lot] by Don:

I call it "Creepy stalker photo in Sepia". I think it's funny, though. Jamaila talks a bit more about our doings on this post.

I can't get over how green and lush it was. I love Garrett County.

Guest Posting!

I did a food guest post on Zaftig Chicks!

CHECK ME OUT, YO!

Freud's got nothin' on me...

I dreamed last night that I was at my parents’ church and that I really wanted to paint my nails bright lime green, but so did everyone else. And while they were all fighting over a bottle of nail polish, I found another one under a pew [I don't know, either].

So, I sat there and happily painted my fingers and toes, and then Adam Savage from Mythbusters came up and asked me to go to a birthday party for a kid who used to be in my church youth-group when I was in middle school. I said sure and we headed out to the car. Along the way, we found Jamie Hyneman, and he was carrying a blow-torch [natch] and we all piled into my Jetta and took off. I turned around to say something over my shoulder to Jamie, and I saw that Tory Belleci had found his way into the car, too. So I made a crack about how this day was going to turn out completely awesome, and Tory got all excited and held out his hand for a high-five from Jamie. Jamie sort of ruffled his mustache and Tory was like, "All right!"

So, we make it back to my parents house and end up swimming through the door because their house was filled with water. It was apparently completely normal, and my dog was floating along in a giant shoe.

Jamie busted out the blow-torch again, and we all started welding a space-ship in my old bedroom.

Then I woke up because I had fallen asleep watching Stargate SG-1 and Teal'c and Cam were busting their way out of a Ha’tak.

Hi. I'm a nerd.

Also, I swear that this wasn't me.

glargle?

Well, that was a false-start. HA.

I have no idea what I was going to blog about, but apparently when you hit "enter" whilst in the subject field, you post! Good times!

Watching The Naughty Kitchen right now and I freaking LOVE Blythe Beck. I want to be her BFF.

Tonight I get to go and snorfle Little Dude Silas! He is the CUTEST DAMN KID ever. Seriously. I can only hope that, one day, my kid will be half as cute as Silas. He's getting to the roly-poly peanut stage, with sausage-link arms and the cutest little belly button.

I LOVE THAT KID. I can't wait for him to get big enough that we can go look for bugs and stuff. We can make sweet forts! I will introduce him to the fine art of snot rockets and armpit farts.

Good times.

Those Aztecs...

I've been very interested in Aztec mythology and divination lately. My favorite website is the Aztec Calendar.

Today's daysign is Xochitl, or Flower. I'm supposed to go for the gusto, apparently. I wish I had a helmet and cape like Calvin to do so, but I just have my handkerchief and a warm sweater.

I certainly feel gusto-y. Life lately has had many happenings rolled into an interesting few weeks. I went on vacation a few weeks ago in Garrett County. It was delightful and green and peaceful. I saw deer and rabbits and lots of lovely flowers. I bought a green teapot from an antique store in Oakland, and I am going to make myself a pot of Darjeeling after work. I didn't take a single picture there, but others did, so when they get posted to the internets, I will be sure to share them here.

I did take this on the way out. It was the prettiest drive, sun shining, my sunroof open to the breeze. A long drive is the perfect way to clear your head of nonsense.

I listened to World War Z on audio book.

So, I'm back, and ready for action.

Diligent delinquency...

So, I like to keep up with the crime reports of the University near my house. Today, I came across a gem.

Damaged Property – Gilman Hall Tower – Between June 20th at 3:00 PM, and June 22nd at 6:10 AM, unknown persons scratched two names on the copper cupula covering on the tower at Gilman Hall. Investigation continuing.

The top of the tower. As in, up in the air.

That is some stone devotion, y'all.

The Ugly Truth - An Ugly Movie

Saw The Ugly Truth last week, and boy did I hate it. I could name several obvious reasons, poor acting being chief among them, but what I am going to focus on for this post is, probably unsurprisingly, the misogyny.

Katherine Heigl, what the hell were you thinking? We know you can do better than that; we've all seen Knocked Up, and while you may have a problem with that film, IT WAS TRULY YOUR BEST WORK TO DATE.

So, you said it was the "sexism" in Knocked Up that you didn't appreciate, and so it is that point which confuses the hell out of me. If you are so concerned with the negative portrayal of the modern woman, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE UGLY TRUTH? Did the script deceive you? Were you perhaps smoking a giant doobie every morning of filming?

Was it Gerard? Did you find him too handsome to resist? Three movies ago, I would have agreed, but he was not looking his best for this role, so I really cannot imagine...

Oh! The executive-woman role! Of course. Because there's nothing more flattering than a control-freak ice queen pretending to be something she's not. Which, I get that the point was loving someone for who they are, but for CHRISTS SAKE did you have to make all women look like neurotic cat-ladies who just need a good screw? And I also get that you're sort of a one-trick pony, but it wouldn't kill you to branch out and play an easy-going, fun girl who can go a day or two without shaving her legs.

And Gerard. Shame. On. You. Shame on you for playing such a ridiculous fat-negative asshole, and shame on me for finding the token father-figure relationship with your nephew mildly endearing. Not endearing enough, however, that I feel at all warmly toward this movie.

In fact, the only thing about this movie that gets my approval is Katherine's apartment. What can I say; I'm gay for a gorgeous courtyard complex in central California.

Which [how's this for a segue] brings me to the fact that there was absolutely zero homosexuality in this film. At all. Not even a cliche make-up artist. In fact, we were SO SURE that her perfect man was going to actually be gay, that we were shocked when he turned out to be, in fact, straight. Improbably handsome, successful, and romantic, but straight.

I'm still suspicious.

So, yes, I'm a little late with this review, and the box-office damage has probably been done, and maybe I'm beating a dead horse, but if you haven't seen it yet and were considering it, do yourself a favor and see Harry Potter instead.

RED VELVET CAKE SOLVES ALL PROBLEMS.

And then Jamaila sent me cupcakes!!!!!

Now all I need is for Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell to pick me up from work in an F-302 and this would be the BEST DAY EVER.

Ha, so. Yeah.

Well, my car is street-legal again [I feel hard-core using that term, like I'm a drag racer or something...], we got bell peppers and corn in the farm-share, my bff from small-times is staying with me this weekend, today is payday, and Kate is bringing me lunch.

So, things are looking up!

Screw you, Thursday.

So. So.

So, my car failed it’s inspection in Delaware because of a brake light. Which means I’m driving my mothers car right now. And this morning on the way home from my parent's house [In Delaware, wot I left at 5:30 this morning], I got messed up when 95 and 895 split because they swapped sides of the road so I ended up going too far on 95 and panicked when I saw signs for the tunnel because I had no money for the toll, so I had to turn around at the PORT GODDAMN OF BALTIMORE IN GODDAMN DUNDALK. But I still managed to get to work on time, early even, for a staff meeting, and then when I manage to get a moment to sign in and check my e-mail, I find a message from my mom telling me that their cat died not two hours after I left.

What. Fresh. Hell.

I would like to be posting something positive, I really would. But all I can see right now are annoying, crappy things and the best thing that's happened to me today was lunch.

At least it's raining. I like the rain.

After the wedding...

Henry's wedding came and went, and I had a fabulous time, despite my quarter-life crisis. ;)

It was a GORGEOUS wedding, and my cousin and his new bride make quite the handsome couple.


I got to see my sister! I miss her terribly. We're flanked by our Uncle John and our Great-Aunt Gertrude.


With my goofy cousin, Andrew.

Parents of the groom.

My folks!


My momma and her two brothers.


My cousin, Holly, Henry's sister.


The happy couple!!


My introspective funk went away [open bar] and my Pops took this photo of me in front of the river.


All around lovely day.

Baby Watch '09, conclusion

D'oh, I am the worst correspondant ever. Let's hope I am never charged with breaking news on any grander of a scale.

There is one more baby in Baltimore! Little Dude Silas. He is basically the cutest thing EVER and I want to bury my head in his wee baby armpit and listen to him gurgle for THE LONGEST TIME.

Happy happy happy days.

Baby Watch '09

Just got home from hanging out at GBMC whilst Nina finishes cooking up her bun wot is in the oven. Rosemary and I have officially dubbed this Baby Watch '09. Going to grab a nap and chill out before going back when she's OMG TWO MINUTES APART FOMG.

Dude. Bizzy and Nina's gonna have themselves a baby. \o/

bile and ire.

Woke up surly yesterday. Well, the clouds ain't parted yet, and I'm still stewing, so let me tell you what Imma do. I'm going home at four. I am letting out my dog and I am going to clean my damn kitchen. Then, I am going to take a damn bath. After that, I am going to make some damn dinner and watch some damn Stargate. And then! Then, I'm going to play some damn City of Heroes. Kicking the crap out of a death head gunner will do loads to improve my damn mood.

And I am not going to answer the damn phone unless it is someone who is extremely pregnant.

Thoughts on Twenty-something Singledom.

My cousin, Henry, is getting married this weekend. If his sister, Holly, marries her boyfriend after him, then we'll be going in birth order of the cousins. First my sister, then Henry, then Holly, and that leaves me before my younger cousins, Andrew [fifteen] and William [ten]. At least I have a few years.

Anyway, this wedding has got me thinking, mostly about being the free agent in a mass of couples. It's not as much of an enviable position as you would think, despite that they are all gracious in sharing their lives with me, and willing to include me in their day-to-day.

I don't have a vast and sprawling group of friends, but it isn't small, and it is certainly varied. And despite the different lives everyone is walking, I still manage to be The Single Friend [or Cousin...]. For everyone. No, really. Even if my friends are not romantically attached to each other, they are still paired off into their own functional units, whether it be with their roommates or neighbors or bff's.

Because I am now coming to be Of An Age where it's the natural way of my peers to pair off and settle down. Now is the time of weddings and babies and christenings. People I went to high-school with have families of their own.

So, I'm often at odds with myself. I savor my independence [such that it is owning a dog] and take great pleasure in answering only to myself. More and more often lately I've been wanting to strike off on my own [again] and find myself a little cabin in the woods that I can set up a forge next to and make metal things and write stories and have chickens running around in the yard. And maybe a goat. I'm flexible on the goat part.

But, I want babies. And an adult to cook for, and someone to be part of my functional unit, and romance and stupid, giddy love. So, where is my piece of the puzzle?

And yet.

And yet, here I am. Thinking. There was an e-mail going around a couple of years ago that talked about the quarter life crisis. Among other things, it highlights the battle of ennui and enthusiasm that we all feel when we're in our twenties. Snapping between wild confidence and crippling anxiety and the constant conflicting questions. What Next? What am I doing with myself? Who cares what I do? What will people think of what I do? I don't want to do anything with myself. I want to change the world. What the hell is wrong with me?

It's exhausting, and it's precisely the reason that I spend as much time as I do in my own head. Why I read constantly, or write this blog.

We don't want to inflict ourselves on the world, but at the same time, we're aching for it.

Or maybe it's just me.

<3

Fat blog!

I am a fan of the big peoples. I am a big people. So I've been reading this great feed, Notes from the Fatosphere and came across this right-on post, I eat therefor I'm fat.

my favorite quote:

My point, in a roundabout way, is that we should not have to prove ourselves to be one of the ‘good’ fatties in order to be seen as people. We should not have to divulge our eating and exercise habits to family/friends/strangers/journalists in order to justify our fatness. Whether we happily overeat or happily run marathons, we all deserve respect.

Absolutely.

I was sitting at my desk at work one day, which happens to face a busy hallway, wearing my favorite high-waisted sweater, when a woman came right up and asked me if I was pregnant. I stared at her for a moment, trying to process the fact that she just asked a random woman if they were pregnant, then said, "Er, no" and quirked an eyebrow, daring her to keep talking.

And she did! The woman starts to do some obvious mental scrambling and then comes out with, "Oh, you must be like me, then, need to do some runnin'". Oh no she di'int.

To this I threw in the attitude [I do love living in Balmer] and said, "No, I don't think that I do," and turned back to my computer with a roll of my eyes. The woman looked affronted [!] and muttered, "Well, good for you," and turned back to waiting to get on the elevator down. We're on the third floor.

Anyway, yeah. I probably won't ever fit with the worlds idea of a perfect woman. I am autonomous, I am strong, I am capable. I can start a coal-burning forge, make you a spoon out of steel, and weld together a decorative spiral finial, all on my own. I like violent movies with blood and guts, and I play video games.

I am healthy. I am fat. And it's okay.

Odd dreams

I dreamed last night that I was standing under a lemon tree in California. They were Meyer lemons, and the sunlight was shining through their skin, and I was squeezing them to see which ones were ripe. One burst in my hand, and when I looked down, instead of juice, it was glitter.

I don't know what it means.

Thinkin' bout religion.

So, as much as I avoid thinking too hard about organized religion, it is often in my thoughts for various reasons. and today I decided to gorge myself on the archives of a webcomic called "pictures for sad children", and came across this particular comic.

It pretty much sums up my most basic thoughts about religion. I don't mean God. I couldn't begin to explain my views on God or any higher powers, but one fact I always come around to when I am mulling it over, is that I don't want to scream my views on the street corner. I don't want to discuss it with my coworkers, or explain it to strangers on the street. I know I am doing just that with this post, but somehow it feels differently. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to hear what I have to say, so perhaps that's the biggest difference.

So, what it comes down to for me is love. I love you. If there is God, they probably love you. Even if you hate me, I probably love you anyway. It's something that I sometimes actively struggle to do, because there is a lot of hate and apathy in the world. But I believe that it is important to get down in there and love someone really hard.

So I do, every chance that I get. <3

Happy Father's Day, y'all. I hope that everyone's fathers are lovable, and if they aren't, I hope that you have someone else to love instead.

my desk.

My mother brought me down a desk yesterday. It was always in the house growing up, and I am v. excited to have it in my apartment, now. Today I put it to good use..


[image is annotated...]

and the view from the seat.


love!

yes, i really write in that notebook, and yes, i use sealing wax and inkwells on a regular basis. I AM A GEEK FOR WRITTEN CORRESPONDENCE. If you have my address, please send me letters. I will write responses dutifully. At the desk! If you would like my address, and I know who you are, you can e-mail me at spillingvelvet at gmail dot com.