Now Playing -
dunno, it sounds like a younger, perkier Bono. Ah, it's Keane.
Now Eating -
nothing. Oink.
Now Feeling -
congested! Funny you should ask!
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
I have managed to stunningly trump last month�s spillage by sullying a month that has not even begun.
Punishment for my calendar-clearing hubris.
Oh, but the bobby-cue was sooooo good.
And once we relocate, we�ll be a mere fifteen minutes away from them! And up the block from this place!
::drool::
I got all crafty this weekend, and plowed through this...
despite the destruction of two needle threaders and my inability to discern yellow from light yellow.
Rassa-frassin� similar colors. Rassa-frassin� inadequate lighting. Rassa-frassin� soon-to-be-replaced outdated contact lenses.
Surprisingly enough, my eyes were not thrown into a permanent state of cross (just the usual temporary one) by all that close work. The only lingering aftereffect is a cramp in my left hand from holding the canvas.
The potential family gathering that was a-brewin� did in fact brew, and reasonably so. That was because I told Mom at 1:45 that we would meet her at the pizza place at 5:30, thus ensuring that we would not have to warp the space-time continuum in order to be showered and out of the house before my parents� Own. Personal. Early Bird Special (�Reach out and touch the sneeze guard. No don�t, bubbie � you�ll catch cold.�) crashed to a halt. Even squeezed in my first trip to the gym in two weeks.
Dining with my family is always an adventure. First off, there�s Mom�s spot-on Crying Baby Radar, coupled with her all-powerful Crying Baby Magnetism, insuring that she will not only attract the loudest bawling babe in the joint, but that she will be unable to pay attention to anything but. Then there�s the Low Blood Sugar-Induced Sniping (Do NOT get between any of us and the bread basket. It�s not pretty.) followed by what I can only hope is the Glycemic Rebound-Induced Paranoia, in which we are alternately being ignored by the wait staff (Mom: �Well, the waitress has no problem tending to the woman with the CRYING BABY!�) OR they�re trying to give us the bum�s rush (Dad: �How dare they put down the pizza before we�ve even touched our salad!� Never mind that coal-fired brick oven pizza is, unlike revenge, a dish best served piping hot.) Couple that with the family anti-dynamic of my brother�s in-laws (Yes, them. Again.) � B-FIL interrupting B-MIL�s tale of her upcoming retirement with a snarky comment about her having more time to spend money they do not have, SIL snarking right back at him � and it�s a regular Manson Family Picnic. Still, the pizza was delish, the Blue Moon Belgian White was a welcome old friend, and The Huz was seated directly across from me, convenient for mutual eye-rolling.
And there was a Cold Stone right next door.
My energy is slowly coming back. But slowly. And I still feel stuffed to the gills. And now CVS�s generic Sudafed has been revamped into some Non-Meth-Lab-in-Your-Kitchen formula, which conveniently does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for me. So my choices are the 12-Hour Extended Release Hi-Test Twitchin�-Like-A-Bunny-At-2 a.m. Sudafed, or...nothing. Whee. At least I can taste food again!
The apartment complex renovations continue. My husband the budding conspiracy theorist is convinced that the workers are much more conscientious on the weekends (what with the circ saws a-buzzin� at 8:45 a.m.) as part of the larger Glorious Master Plan to drive all us po� folk out of the soon-to-be �luxury rentals.�
Today we got a new front door. To replace the old, paint encrusted one, with the half-dead doorbell that kind of goes �ding-chunk� instead of �Ding-Dong!�
So from Huz�s report, we have a shiny new white door...
with a dead doorbell.
Ah, progress.
Memorial Day was spent eating �dogs, watchin� baseball (both from home, alas), reading Rob�s post featuring several wonderful anti-war quotes (including one I�d never seen by a favorite of mine, Wilfred Owen) and feeling much gratitude to those who served and those who remember them. Including whichever scout troop or VFW group was responsible for making damn sure there was an American flag on my father-in-law�s grave.
Dulce et decorum est, indeed.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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