Cat Monkey Pie Ninja HOBO

sigh.

2009-05-04T10:06:00.000-04:00

It's a terrible, terrible thing when someone stops thinking about you.

This is how it goes

2008-06-30T17:10:00.003-04:00

Barefeet ‎(5:05 PM):

BING

nooooooo

it tells me invadil

that's not fair

iwenrt second!

i had a S and a K!

Barefeet ‎(5:06 PM):

Z and K

fine.

i removed the D and it was pleased.

that makes absolutely no sense

Barefeet ‎(5:07 PM):

it was worth154!

instead i got 95.

ShireMonkey ‎(5:07 PM):

yeah 95, jenny, shame

Barefeet ‎(5:07 PM):

hee

154!

for one word!

ShireMonkey ‎(5:07 PM):

i know!

Barefeet ‎(5:07 PM):

um apparently alls i have left now is a D

ShireMonkey ‎(5:07 PM):

i just played PEAS

Barefeet ‎(5:08 PM):

i had 154!!!!

ShireMonkey ‎(5:08 PM):

i will remember

i promise

i played peas.

Barefeet ‎(5:08 PM):

there. i got 12 for my D

2 words!

ad, do

ShireMonkey ‎(5:08 PM):

whoo!!

Barefeet ‎(5:08 PM):

i had 154!

Barefeet ‎(5:09 PM):

not that i am ashamed of Zahukenj

ShireMonkey ‎(5:09 PM):

he'd be pissed if yuo were

Barefeet ‎(5:09 PM):

my facotire of yourn is jartipod

... Rheta having written this, see

2008-06-20T14:42:00.005-04:00

... which I am currently reading. In Henderson, LA she has finally found a place that feels like home. It makes me so happy to recognize so many of the people and places and events she's talking about.

Rheta started this.

2008-06-19T21:16:00.001-04:00

I have never felt like I belonged anywhere, with a few exceptions. Maybe rarely with anyone, either. Always slightly out of sorts or step, the world around me one half step to the left of me, it moving one direction, I another, infinitesimally or at miles per hour.

The lone exceptions would be a. our house and yard and pond and 2. Disney, which I’ll explain in another issue.

We moved here when I was 8. I swore an oath that I would buy the house left at 69 Candy Lane when I grew up. At about the same time, at least in my memory, I also sang about the houseboat I would have on Freeman Pond and the sleepovers that would ensue out on the water at the new home. Not realizing yet, not consciously, that my parents’ inclinations did not align with even the most timid child’s adventurous imagination/hopes.

What a mistake it was to make me an only child. (What a mistake in any instance.) Was I naturally painfully shy? Or did I sense my parents’ fears and cottony layers of mental, psychic, psychological, nonpermissive protection and react to all that? My Mom’s big family had (still does) a cottage on Rushford Lake, which is ... maybe east of Olean. My cousins went there loads. Not me. My Mom had hated it there, and so I had to suffer in a new way. I cannot understand what good they thought they were doing me. I mean, I can, but how could they not have seen what they were stealing from me? How could they have thought I would end up a happy, well-adjusted, full-living person by playing at home by myself?

Granted, I didn’t spend that much time playing alone till we moved from 69 Candy Lane. Maybe they misunderstood what would be available to me friendwise on our new street. They definitely underestimated my shyness, whatever its cause. You can’t be a shy only child and live in a neighborhood where the more-spread-out kids all go to the public school while you go to the tiny private Catholic school and find a way to fit in. It does not happen. No amount of dance lessons or summer tennis lessons where other girls relentlessly flirted with the instructor or years of Girl Scouts -- especially when you do not let the child go camping -- will change that.

So, yes, definitely, take her away from the summers at the lake too, except maybe an afternoon here or there. Yes, please.

Let’s take a look at her, shall we, playing upstairs with her Barbies for hours on end, enacting Tarzan-like scenarios and husband-stealing hussy-secretary notions (the husband always politely resisting). Another look shows her hitting a softball around the backyard by herself with her wooden blue baseball bat. Wherever it lands, she walks over, picks it up, and hits it again. Repeat.

Or, see her playing solitaire while watching The Price is Right, Maverick, The Twilight Zone, Star Blazers or Happy Days, or sitting on her bed reading Nancy Drew.

One summer I spent all my time with neighbor Amy Bos. That must’ve been twixt 5th and 6th grades. In 6th Ellen became my best friend, so I finally had an ally.

But in high school and college I spent a LOT of time out in the yard alone, reading, writing, getting tan. I didn’t know how to live my life differently, how to fix it. I was not capable. Peaceful nights here in Ithaca now will make me sigh wistfully for the nights I sat up into the wee hours, again reading and writing, plus watching Letterman, writing down the funniest lines inside the front and back covers of books I was reading, singing and dancing along to Axl in Sweet Child of Mine. And then I remember that the memories are … insubstantial. They’re memories of flights of fancy in my imagination, not of Times with People. No first loves. No first kisses. No sneaking out at night. No awkward fumblings with neighbor boys at 13. No Spin the Bottle. One school ended before we got there; the school that followed was already long past it.

You see? You see the Mark of Loki now? Can you doubt his existence or interference now? Riding roughshod over the connections of my life? My first real true kiss didn’t come till I was 18. EIGHT-EEN. I spent four years then in love with that boy, a boy I did not date, a boy I would have to apologize sincerely to if I ever crossed paths with him again.

(Which I sure as hell hope I never do.)

So I developed a deep communion and connection with the land of my home in OP. It is still my anchor, the place where I really feel peace and release. Like many people do at the ocean. (Which I always felt, too. Like I was a secret ocean demigoddess or something.) (This could explain the bathroom thing ...) I’m lucky to have it, I know. but what happens when my parents move? Since there are no people to whom those memories are tied? No one I can laugh with as we remember tricking Dad or punching a hole in the wall or the dents we put in the car. It’ll be a longing, a friend lost forever.

My Mother now regrets having made me an only child. She is so close to her own five sisters, and as they age that gets more and more important, I’d hazard to say. My Aunt Pat is still single, but she does have all of them. What will I have? In another 30 years will my cousins come back around and pull me back into their own nuclear folds again, the way we were in the early 1990s? I could get lucky and marry into a close, medium-sized or big family. But what if I don’t? What if I marry another only? What if this greatest fear of mine continues to come true and I am alone for the rest of my life?

What happens to me if I get cancer, like my Aunt Katie? And I have no sisters to hold my hand?

Where do I belong?

I returned to NYS because I felt its pull. Sometimes you have to leave a place to find out that you belong there. But I have never felt like I belonged in the very city I grew up in, not like That. Not like You Might. Whether it’s my parents’ overprotective fault or not, what do I do?

Where do I belong?

Why, it's an Otter!

2008-06-19T18:51:00.001-04:00

I think I really like this new look. except how the photo is overlapping the border. Anyone know how to fix that? Hallo? Anyone there?

Why hello there

2008-06-18T16:28:00.000-04:00

Time I got back to this. I missed you so, did I ever. Some recent doings.

First up was a smallish party I had . Took photos, but they came out crappy because it was afore I remembered the ISO setting on mon appareil de photo. You know how I get, so you know how consumed I was with the partay. (How I hate that word, and how I love to use it regardless.) Big-time thanks to Emily, Marshall and Julie for pre-party prep help; Jessica for filling the quichettes; and Melissa and Mary for their cleaning-doing. A certificate of achievement and adoration and happy long life to each of you.

Next up was Reunion weekend. You can see a bunch of photos I took here, along with those snapped by Adam and Matthew. I volunteered to take photos Friday. Friday was a very, very hot day. Florida hot. Badness hot. I don't know how people staying in the dorms did it. (Alumni have the option to stay in dorms, see.) Lots of showers? Brought their butlers? Poor butlers, all gussied up in their fancy butler suits. How they hate Reunion weekend.

(Mildly interesting: When I was fresh out of college, I worked at our local teensy, family-run newspaper, The Southtowns Citizen. I was an intern. This meant I did whatever needed doing, for free [except for delivering papers to mongers of different sorts, for which delivery day I got paid $20]. One of these whatevers was the Inquiring Photographer, which I HATED. I was so shy, I would've cut a toe off to avoid doing it. I put it off till the very last minute [Wednesday afternoon] every time, then headed over to the post office to wait in the vestibule, camera in hand, and ask people if they would answer a question for the paper. What a major release of adrenaline and endorphines and spleen juice and probably some grapefruit juice flooded through my body when it was done! But the next week it was just as ominous all over again.)

My point is that now I just walk up to people and ask if I can take their picture. They like me for some reason. Must be my trustworthy, heart-shaped face (I read that somewhere once). I seem to have become someone who is good at customer service. Tell that to the Citizen-days me, and she'll not believe you. She'll kick you in the shins and run away, sure that you have traveled from the future to be tricksey with her.

My Dad just told me a few weeks ago that The Citizen has folded. Alas.

Anyway, at Reunion that night, Friday night, I also volunteered at the Glee Club and Chorus concert. I really like volunteering at this stuff. No kidding. So that long, hot day laid me flat for the rest of the weekend. Probably heat exhaustion. No kidding. It was Wednesday or Thursday before I had a normal day again.

More to come soon, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.

Seneca had a stone camel too.

2008-02-28T12:43:00.000-05:00

Remember when malls had fountains and fountain-related pools? It was some kind of law. I don't understand why they don't anymore. I mean, it's environmentally sustainable and healthy and everything you could want in a mall. Some kid probably bonked his head while reaching for a penny and now we ALL have to suffer.

Stupid kids.

Your UB update

2007-12-17T12:02:00.001-05:00

I just talked to the director at UB, and they went with someone who has more experience actually writing proposals (since I have none), but she said they were all very impressed with me and my experience and would like to consider me for some more hiring they’ll be doing in the coming year -- like campaign communications stuff and a position she’s pushing for that would involve a lot of editing. My plan was to ask to be considered for future hiring anyway, so there we have it.

I REALLY wasn’t ready to move yet anyway and would probably like one of those other jobs better.

The best sentence I've heard all day

2007-12-10T15:46:00.000-05:00

I’ve got plenty of sauce left from Saturday night so I just have to make more pudding.

My shoes are too small.

2007-11-30T15:46:00.000-05:00

And last winter I discovered that my ice skates are too small too. They were actually making my feet go numb. Now my big toes are bumping against the fronts of these shoes (some I don't wear too often). So it's not like my feet are fattening up. Either I was dumb enough to buy shoes too small for me or my feet have actually gotten longer.

What am I, 12?

Why didn't I shoot my foot and stay in Honolulu.

2007-11-29T15:25:00.000-05:00

At 2:18 a.m. the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, knowing full well it couldn't be anyone I know. All the people I know have others they would contact first in an emergency. Unless the emergency revolved around them both or involved falling out of bed or maybe a kidnapping (giving or receiving). Or if it were closer to the holidays, Melissa up into the wee hours of the night making cookies and accidentally clocking Chris with a cookie tray and she's too drunk to take him to the hospital herself.

It was no one I knew. So of course I didn't answer. 607 area code, "York, New St" it said. NOT ANSWERING YOU. Person waits through the answering machine message. Hangs up.

Calls again. Leaves a message this time. I hear something that actually sounds like my name. I go listen, slightly intrigued but knowing deep down I will soon be angry. The message: some female looking for Stephanie McLean. DELETE. ANGRY.

About 20 minutes later? AGAIN! Different number, still says something like "York, New State." I answer. YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER, I enunciate. I wait for an apology.

I wait in vain.

A moment later, they hang up.

I wait and M*A*S*H for sleep, about two hours.

'Struth

2007-11-27T11:48:00.000-05:00

minuterice (11:16 AM):
is there anything one can't learn about themselves from ealish's amazon wish list?

Yo.

2007-11-18T16:22:00.000-05:00

Dawg.

(I just looked up on Google which is used more often in that phrase, "dog"or "dawg." I am now replete with street cred.)

Went home for The Interview, as you will remember from last week's Installment. I think it went pretty well, though I'm not sure HOW well. They asked me some questions that are hard for me to answer, like "How do you handle facts and figures in a proposal?" I think I did well with three out of the four interviewers, at least, and I really liked the director of development communications, whom I met with separately (the fourth of the aforementioned four). I think she'd be great to work with.

NOW I have to write a proposal for them, which is only an issue because I only have till Wednesday, which is only an issue because I lost Saturday to driving and driving recuperation and committed myself to copyediting Communiqué today. Leaving me very little time to do it. But I will begin shortly, and then we'll see what kind of crap I can produce. (Probably the craptastic kind.) Oh, and the Bills play the Pats tonight too. (I'm saving Pass 2 through Communiqué for then.)

Woke up today really not happy to be in Ithaca. Felt a lot better later when I went outside with Rogue for a little bit, before the temperature dropped. I had to begin the day with a trip to Wegmans, which I just hated but ... there it is.

Note to friends who want to keep me here: FIND ME MY MR. RIGHT. That's really the only way to cement this thing, and even then ... well. Having him doesn't fix spending time with my parents while they're still healthy, and that's one of the top things this whole shebang comes down to.

So, in conclusion: I think it would be great to work for UB. Whether or not this will be the right time or right job, if they even offer it to me, well. Good question.

And here I am.

2007-11-13T19:44:00.000-05:00

Busy times these have been, in their way. Are you sitting down? Yes, I did it: I met two guys from Match. Not at the same time. Though I'd kinda like to see that. Both nice guys; neither really doing anything for me. In Chair Number 1 we had Rich, who built his own house and does welding jobs and bartending--so he can avoid paying taxes because he doesn't want to support the war. Also a little bit of a survivalist streak in our bachelor Rich. Nice enough guy; not bringing him home to Mom and Dad.

In Chair Number 2 we had David. Also nice enough, but in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way. Rents from his sister, works in mental health, wants his own practice. Likes showshoeing.

So, look at me, I'm officially out there. Wahoooooo.

In other news, I've got an interview at UB Friday. Same job I have now. So far it looks to be all the parts of my job that I hate most without the parts that I like. I could be wrong. I'm ready to be wrong about it. Plus side: a university that actually NEEDS the money, and a job at home. (Just when things feel more homey here in Ithaca.)

Mostly I just want a blouse that fits right for Friday.

Gotta go do stuff now. Miss you! Have a walnut.

Oh there you are.

2007-11-05T20:17:00.000-05:00

Do I have anything to say? Has anything happened? The time changed. I'm very tired. Combo of my period and the aforementioned time change. And the fact that I have so much organizing and stuff to do in my apartment that I never seem to be able to rest. Oh and I also have about a hundred boyfriends now. In fact I'm IMing one AS WE SPEAK. You and me. This. What we're doing here. What I'm doing right now. OK fine it's JUST ME JUST LIKE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE FINE! YOU'RE NEVER HERE!

There are three cats in the room. I hear another one making his noises. Bliss has been elusive. Four cats piled up on me Sunday morning, but she was elsewhere. Not on the Pile of Cozy Treats of Warmness. Crazy desert cat.

OK I just mentioned King Features to Michael. QUESTION: WILL I HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT? Of course I can just go to the Web site and send that along. I have to pee. I want to go to bed.

His response: "As in Popeye? Doing what?" Holy smokes, he knows Popeye belongs to King?!

When you don't have an icon of your own up there yet, Yahoo! Messenger has this silhouette placeholder there that looks like Peter Brady. I find this both comforting and disturbing.

Well, enough for you and me right now. Write when you can. Call when you get work. Say hi to the folks. Matt! Rollins?

Love,
Cree

One more thing, Nation

2007-10-28T21:05:00.000-04:00

Colbert was awesome! Full of rich humory goodness. I want to give Wren a hug.

Paul! We can go into business together, leave the university world behind!

2007-10-28T20:31:00.000-04:00

I'm also thinking of starting a business wherein I can help some of these poor dweebs market themselves online. "I don't care how many football players wear the Cosby sweater! And come here, I have to show you how to part your hair down the side." I'll get a traveling hairstylist to come along. Then I'll take photos of them that are actually appealing (and current).

I really think this could work, had I actual entrepreneurial skills.

Quandries

2007-10-28T20:04:00.000-04:00

I did it. I joined Match again. And I'm getting a slew of messages to the effect of "THANK GOD SOMEONE CREATIVE!" Which is definitely something I saw a lack of previously (creativity), and DEFINITELY over at eHarmony. (I'm not even bothering with Nerve/Salon and will cancel that account. Everyone on it is in NYC.) Yes I will try to actually meet people. Some of you might need to help me by being on the other side of the room or something. As they say far too often in this town, "It IS Ithaca," so the chances of running into people you know is pretty high anyway.

Anyway, back to our story.

I say in my profile that I'm mostly vegetarian and -- well. There's the problem; I apparently DON'T say it! Crimony! So that's why two hunters have winked at me. Huh. See I was going to ask you what you thought I should say to hunters who contact me, if you think I should say anything at all. I thought it would only be fair so they don't think I think they're ugly volcano-faces or anything. WELL. NOW.

What should I say to THESE hunters? I don't have to say anything. I can click a "No thanks" thingy and let that be it. Anyway. Give me your 2 cents, there's a pal.

Signed, the Brotherhood of the Cree Word.

grumble

2007-10-19T22:11:00.000-04:00

I quit eHarmony a little while ago, cos it's full of boring boring BORING men and I hate the way it's run. But now I find myself missing the little bits of attention that come from an online dating site. I sort of joined Nerve.com tonight, but it's really the same service as Salon's personals, which I joined a few months ago and have gotten NOTHING from at all. I was just trying to upgrade, but the page is only partially encrypted, sez the padlock with a red slash mark through it ...

I *JUST* *WANT* to *MEET* someone. Why is that so much to ask? Gar.

You know I'm gonna end up back on Match.

BABY PORCUPINE! BANANA! HICCUPS!

2007-10-17T20:31:00.001-04:00

Sorry, one day I'll finish my YouTube account so I can just post the video here, but

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Oh man. and I thought the bottle feeding was cute."

This way you also get to see all the other baby porcupine links.

UPDATE

2007-10-08T10:58:00.001-04:00

According to public information, the Dalai Lama is only in town for two days, Tuesday and Wednesday.

Or so the Germans would have us believe.

But he will be blessing the site.

When I tell the story, it will be His Holiness with the hammer.

2007-10-07T17:18:00.000-04:00

1. "Namgyal Monastery in Ithaca, New York, is the North American Seat of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama." I quote the website.

2. Said monks are building a new facility in a spot I can see readily. It will be called Dü Khor Choe Ling, or The Land of Kalachakra Study and Practice. My landlady said something about the Dalai Lama needing to bless the archway at the entrance to the driveway. Or maybe that he already had. Let's go with the former.

3. The Dalai Lama is in Ithaca this week giving a series of public events. They sold out really fast.

4. A little bit ago I was sitting on the couch and ... heard a flute playing, in what my small brain deciphered as a Buddhist monkish way. Eventually I hooked Rogue up on her new leash and went outside to see what I could see. Which was nothing. I did hear voices and laughter, though, as well as what could be described as a praying silence. And hammering. And I sure thought I heard the word/name "Buddha" at one point (granted, it could have been "gouda" or maybe "food-a"). The only thing I finally saw was cars (2) driving away.

I waved.

The latest

2007-10-04T10:14:00.000-04:00

Went home for an extended weekend, and it was really good. I didn't feel too great so didn't spend much time outside, which is too bad because our backyard in Orchard Park is a real place of peace for me, an anchor in the world. But so it goes. Saw Chet, which was delightful. Karla and I went to Tandoori's, an Indian restaurant that's supposed to be fantastic, but I have to say I was disappointed. (I even like Diamond's ordered-from-the-menu food better.) Memories of India has spoiled me so, down there with its best food on the planet and all. Ohhh, sweet sweet palak paneer; truly ye must be the food of the gods.

I thought I had things to say here. Said things are eluding me now.

I pretty much wanted to come pack up the cats and move. I'll need money first, though. There's a development writer job open at UB, and that's what I do now, but it looks like it would be all the parts of this job that I hate and none that I like. And I'd have to do it for at least another year. But I'll apply, and we'll see. It could be better than I think.

I think I want to get away from writing somehow anyway. Away from the computer. How, well, good question. I'm accepting ideas. Contest! Come up with the next great career step for Cree. A logical one, too. I will not suffer ye cries of "giraffe medicine!"

MY SKILLS/TALENTS
writing, sorta
editing
reading
sleeping poorly
scratching kitties' noggins
drawing
party planning, kinda
taking the pictures
monkey haiku fashioning
guacamole making
finding the car I came in
finding shortcuts and alternate routes
going on vacation
staying awake at work
decorating baked things
laughing at the funny
being critical of movies and TV shows
being single
putting things off
eating out

I also like the pretty clothes. Just keep that in mind when you're deliberating. Nothing requiring ugly or restrictive clothing.

(Also no nudity. Sorry! I know!)

Oh, and many many MANY thanks to my kittywatchers. Y'all are the best.

Bionic thoughts

2007-09-26T22:01:00.000-04:00

(Only spoilers in evaluation)

Lame script. Lame dialogue. Eick should be ashamed. Katee, you're way better than that.
Being super-strong doesn't give you actual fighting skills.
Jamie: Starbuck with a nice mommy.
And Badger aged like 20 years between prison and mountain.
HI, CHIEF!

let's catch up, you

2007-09-26T10:28:00.000-04:00

I went to Taughannock two weekends ago and stumbled on this.

It was like walking into Middle-earth.

Was it a group effort? A mob rock sculpturing?

Wee elf house

This tried to bonk me on the head, falling from afar. Sucker!

Please come back. I love you.

Mike, Jenny, me

Stan

Hitler

Littletree Orchards. Cox oranges, methinks.

Jen!

And finally: I came in to work yesterday to discover ... THIS.
A couple of other things were knocked over.
No idea what happened.
No one has 'fessed up.

This makes me so happy

2007-09-18T12:57:00.000-04:00

I want this video to be my life. But outside, not in a warehouse. Pick your colors and fling your hands in the air one at a time, mi dancy amigos!

Thanks, Apple! I can't wait till you rule the world!

This is the very reason I got my wee camera

2007-09-17T15:48:00.000-04:00

I was just at the urologist's office. While I was waiting in the exam room, I noticed a bright green bigger-than-index card on the counter. It had "vasectomy" written on it. Now, you can't just stick a bright green card with the emboldened word "vasectomy" on it in patients' easy line of sight and expect it to go unnoticed or unexamined. I tried to spy what it said without actually getting up (it is my instinct to behave while at the doctor, and keeping to myself is key to that), but the only other words I could make out were "plastic gloves" and -- I swear this looked like what it said -- "can opener."

Keep a camera with you at all times.

SEVEN!!

2007-09-16T19:49:00.000-04:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KITTENS! And Happy Mama Day, Rogue!

Look what Elly found

2007-09-12T17:16:00.000-04:00

here. Hee.

She ALSO is awesome for making me DVDs of two of my favorite shows ever. BFF, Elly! Standing O!

Road trip to Salem!

2007-09-10T14:51:00.000-04:00

I'm a direct descendant of this woman.

Despite my adoption.

Eat that, nation!

2007-09-10T10:35:00.000-04:00

WE GOT COLBERT TICKETS!!

All thanks to a fine young Cornell student named Wren.

WREN
IS
AWESOME

Fin

2007-09-04T16:57:00.001-04:00

When I was in my 20s I wanted to become a marine biologist. I didn’t because I just don’t know how to make such dreams a reality. Maybe cos the things I always wanted most growing up never became reality; maybe because my parents did such a good job at making me think I was not part of the real world; blah blah blah. Regardless, it’s mostly why I moved to Florida, but the dream never happened.

Whenever I told someone at Shoals that I had wanted to do that, instead of answering with the “Oh yes, everyone wants to do that; I bet you wanted to work with dolphins, too” that I expected -- that so many people say -- they said, “Why didn’t you?”

That impressed me. For of course; they’re doing it, they’re helping others do it, they see it every day. Why didn’t I?

(the real answer: fear. A life lived in fear is a life half lived. My half-life ain’t been so bad, though.)

part deux

2007-09-04T16:55:00.000-04:00

Off the boat and on to finding out what had happened to my bags and where I would be sleeping. In a dorm (I was hoping for more private and modern quarters), but oh well. Hm, just one toilet in the dorm, and at the opposite end of the hall. I pee a lot during the night. No biggie, I thought anyway. It’s just one night.

I sat in on a marine mammal class where JB told us really bizarre things about certain kinds of whales (Mother Nature is weird), but after that, there wasn’t anything specific to join. At one point my social anxiety almost got the best of me; I’d spotted Willy and hoped to set up a time to talk, but he was wrangling with his son and kept saying, “We’ll be in touch through e-mail.” Since this was only like 5 p.m. and I was there till 2 the next day, I felt a little abandoned. Finally I forced myself to sit down with some people in the dining hall. They were completely welcoming. This is what they do there, after all: new people come, all there because they love the sea and the things that live in and above it. They all meet and gather for the time they’re there. Everyone’s a stranger and a new acquaintance. Corny, maybe, but it’s true.

And there was rum. JB, the second director of the island, had brought rum along. (Rogue is rolling around in the sun, BTW. Inside still.) There were also lobsters for dinner, which I didn’t have and which smelled just horrid. Like death, really. I had barely eaten all day, believe it or not, so salad and corn and egg rolls were fine with me (there were vegetarian dishes, but both had soy).

John and I met up to take pictures of the sunset (rather, the pink sky above it, since it set behind clouds), but I bailed before it was totally done cos I was just exhausted.

Walking back to the dorm, though, I realized I would never have a night like this again, so I went and sat on a porch in the night, looking toward mainland. In the building behind me someone was teaching kids to sing sea chanties. Brilliant.

(different porch)

Here I have to applaud my bladder on this trip: first, holding on while on the boat, then, during the night, I only went twice! Whoo! Yes, you do need to know this! Sometime I may be staying at your house, and you’ll know to put me near the bathroom. Also meriting applause is my head, for fending off pain even while in the sun for 4 hours (the wind helped).

Sunday morning I went down to see the birds being banded. They catch them in this wall of net set up between tall bushes; boys—just boys!—there for family programs would get them out of the net, put them in a paper bag,

and take them back to David, who gives private piano and flute lessons when he’s not at Shoals. That was so cool. I can’t believe people can handle those tiny teeny things like that.

Then on to brunch; this time I just sat down at a table by myself and waited, and it filled up around me. Good food, too, esp. the cod cakes. After brunch I talked with Willy for a while after all, on tape (so to speak), then wandered a bit before getting ready to depart. It was really pretty easy to get people talking about themselves, I have to say.

When I got back to Creek Farm, around 4 p.m., I knew I couldn’t stay another night there. Just something about it I don’t know if I’ve been able to explain properly. It felt weird knowing there were people around but not being connected to them. (There was someone upstairs from me, too.) And something about being given this space for myself but it not really feeling like mine. And I hadn’t slept well Friday night, though I slept like a log in the dorm. And I didn't like the bathroom. So, I went off and found the Hilton Garden Inn I’d spotted while out with Pam and got myself a king-size bed there. (Granted, the memory foam of the mattress made me all sweaty during the night and I had to remake the bed at 4 a.m. so I could sleep on top of the comforter, but that was OK. I slept really well otherwise.) I was so happy to have that brand-new bathroom to shower in. I was coated in sunscreen and OFF! and hadn’t showered in my 24 hours on the island, upon the advice of a teenager who kept calling the Shoals showers two-minute Navy showers. I went out for dinner and shopped some; shopped some more the next morning. ITHACA, YOU CAN LEARN A LOT FROM PORTSMOUTH.

Shoals recap, part un

2007-09-04T16:51:00.000-04:00

Bliss and Rogue are at the screen door, Bliss sitting on her haunches as she examines something upward that I can’t see, looking like a small friar.

I’m outside and on my laptop on a beautiful day; I have Fantastic Day (Haircut 100 or maybe just Nick Heyward) in my head. I figured out how to close the screen door so it latches, so Rogue won’t get out again. But I also dosed her with Frontline today and put a new dusty rose harness on her in preparation for when I bring her out with me.

But my purpose is to write about Shoals, so here we begin.

The seven-hour drive on my own was no problem, and the path itself was beautiful. I arrived at Creek Farm in Portsmouth just after 7 p.m. —Oh, here she goes, Rogue, trying to get the door open, sly little thing— and met director Willy, his son, and the ‘coastal coordinator,’ Pam. Pam was awesome, so nice and really easy to talk to. She showed me downtown Portsmouth, which is an adorable place, filled with clothing and arts-and-crafts shops and loads of restaurants (and nary a Pottery Barn among them). Ithaca Commons, take note. This is what you should be. We got back to Creek Farm around 10:30, and I settled in to my section of the house.

Creek Farm was built in the late 1800s and is about 5,000 square feet, I think I heard someone say. I don’t know the style, but you’ve seen the photos at my Flickr site. It’s really beautiful, but needs a lot of renovation (I’d start with the bathrooms and the 1970s flocked wallpaper), and it’s very spare. AND WARM. I brought my own fan along, and don’t know how I would’ve made it through the night without it. It was really warm and humid that night. Or at least, the house had trapped the heat. It’s broken up into several apartments now, and its main purpose is to be a place where island staff can stay on their days off. There were two other people there while I was there, in other parts of the house. That was kinda weird.

Around 8:30 a.m. or so I went with Willy and his son, Owen, to get breakfast, then we skipped like a stone over the waves to Appledore Island on Willy’s ‘e-pod’ (some kind of wee boaty thing).

I asked if there were whales around, and Willy said I should go on the whale watch later that day. Well, when we pulled up to the dock, there were people getting onto this other boat. Willy determined that it was the whale watch and sent me off. I grabbed a bag with some snacks and my water and camera, ascertained that there was a toilet on board (I feel stupid saying “head” when I’m a total landlubber), and off I went. I discovered that two Cornell alumni were on the thing, people I had met at a Plantations luncheon last year. They were there taking nature photography classes with a man I misunderstood them to say was John Reis’ nature photographer. So when I tried to find out from him whether he knew Chris K, he was very confused.

No no, he was his own nature photographer, John Greene, look him up, yo. He became one of the highlights of my trip—so easy to talk to, always happy to see me. (Calm down; he’s like 60.) I plied his brain, trying to determine if I could ever do what he does. With a partner who is all businessyheaded, maybe.

“Did you get seasick?” you're wondering. (You are!) I was fine till I went to the head. Back on deck I sat down, thinking that would help. Nuh-uh. Finally my brain told me to go stand in the back with John again, for my legs would absorb and adjust to the swaying and rocking that way. “Oh no, don’t go below deck,” John affirmed later. So on this four-hour cruise, I peed only once. Can you believe it! No! I know you can’t!

Also on this four-hour cruise, no whales. Not till almost the very end, at least, when the island was in sight again. I and I alone spotted a minke whale for a second and a half. It was already really cool to be out on the ocean, but that definitely made the trip worth it.

This weekend I went away and didn't tell you

2007-08-28T19:42:00.000-04:00

because I didn't want you stealing my stuff.

I went here and met the people who are doing the things I used to dream of doing but didn't have the capacity to make happen.

And all I can do now is write about them.

See my trip here.

Gooier than you

2007-08-22T14:46:00.001-04:00

Gooier is an awesome word. Look at it sitting there, all vowelly and full of roundness in the middle. Unless you work in, I dunno, tar, it brings to mind so many good things. Or even just a few really good things, which is plenty.

Right now I'm eating a vegan chocolate cake from Greenstar, which I heated up for 45 seconds -- exactly the right amount of time to make it a little gooey. It's like a wee bundt cake, but gooier. See! Right there. Gooey means good things.

Also maybe except for its application to toddlers.

CHECK

2007-08-21T12:00:00.000-04:00

I've been e-mailing this guy I met via one of them online services. At first I was pretty psyched about him, but then started to level out. (I have to emphasize that I really, really, really want someone who's funny, too, and he says outright that he spends most of his time serious.) Anyhoo, today I get this from him:

Yeah, it was a good turnout, maybe not as many as in year's[third time he's misused the apostrophe this way, and he's a freelance writer] past, but still good: a couple thousand, maybe. Where are you going away for work this weekend? Going to be anywhere near Myrtle Beach? Probably not, huh. Bummer. ... Hey, I'm looking for good pick up lines to use on the beach. Are you familiar with the Brad Pasley song "Ticks"? In the song, he sings about meeting this girl at a bar and wanting to walk with her in the woods, and he sings, "I want to check you for ticks." What if I approached a cute girl on the beach and said, "I want to check you for sand fleas." Good idea? Don't answer that. I never was very smooth with the pick up lines. Talk to you later.

...mm hmm. Whatever his reasons for saying that, I think we can safely file him away under "no dice/idiot/hey, what's that shiny thing over there?" (I'm thinking of responding with something along the lines of "Yes, definitely say that. Definitely if you want a punch in the face." Except I don't want him to think I'm insinuating that I want to punch him in the face, cos I don't care enough.)

Actually Jenny came up with the perfect reply:

Dear Brian,

You have no idea how much time this e-mail saved me.

Have fun at the beach,
Cree

CAN I WEIGH THAT LEMON FOR YOU MS. MCDONNELL

2007-08-18T15:48:00.001-04:00

Two weeks ago, it was The Police.

Last week, a meteor.

Last night, I saw the president of the Twelve Colonies at Wegmans.

Next I'm hoping for a dragon.

The things you learn

2007-08-16T15:50:00.000-04:00

I'm an only child, but I have a ton of cousins. When I was growing up, just about the most important thing on earth to me was being with them. So whenever we were together, I would drag the time out as long as I could. Somehow my parents always managed to decide to leave when the most possible fun on earth was happening.

So I started hiding my shoes.

There must have been an occasion when I actually did lose track of my shoes, and we had to stay longer till they were found. I'll even bet that I was able to play more whilst my parents hunted them down (for I was but a child; kids can't find anything).

So, I started hiding my shoes.

Unfortunately , they saw right through it.

*sigh*

I hate being an only child.

10:46 p.m.

2007-08-11T22:50:00.000-04:00

I just saw a meteor! I just saw a meteor! Eeeeee! Perseid!!

The latent superpowers of your late 30s

2007-08-09T19:57:00.000-04:00

This morning I woke up and looked at the clock, and it said 6:44. I decided to stay awake and get up around 7:30. When an appropriate amount of time had passed (I have a freakishly accurate sense of time sometimes), I looked at the clock again, expecting it to be 7:30 or later.

It said 6:42.

I can TIME TRAVEL now? Without flying around the globe to reverse its direction or getting hold of a Time Turner?

I woulda gone back to sleep had I known.

The POLICE!

2007-08-06T10:53:00.000-04:00

I will try to convey how phenomenal the concert was, but I will fall short, for there are no words to equal the experience.

First, the arena (Madison Square Garden; the part where they play hockey and basketball) was smaller than we'd expected, so that was cool. We were directly across from the stage. Couldn't see the faces too well, but there were JumboTrons anticipating that issue for us.

They opened with Message in a Bottle, and from the getgo the whole place was singing along with them, continually invited by Sting. Sting Sting Sting. Always loved that man. Looking DAMNED fine too. Next came Synchronicity II, and after that I don't really remember the order. But suffice to say they played *every single song* like it was an encore, and even mixed a few songs into each other. Can't Stand Losing You had Regatta de Blanc in the middle of it, with Sting doing call-and-response with Regatta's "E-yo, e-yay" parts. That was the absolute pinnacle for me; if you know Regatta de Blanc, think of how it accelerates, imagine 80 000 people singing it along with Sting AND Sting doing the whole bit TWICE, and you'll understand. Forevermore that song will make me inordinately happy.

(It's also possible that it happened inside Driven to Tears instead; my brain last night switched gears to stick Regatta inside that one.)

During King of Pain, if you knew it was there to hear (and everyone did), you could hear about a quarter of the audience filling in "That's my soul up there" between verse lines. They also played the intro to Demolition Man but then switched to some other song. Again, Sting did loads of call-and-response. It was like they were performing with us, not for us. Completely, totally awesome. Everyone in the audience was just completely elated to be there. There's nothing like that feeling, nothing: 80 000 joyous people all with the same purpose, excited to be alive. Many of us had waited almost 25 years for this, thinking even that it was never going to happen. The place was up in arms. Uproarious. Happy beyond belief. Synchronicity.

I think Sting did mess up a time or two with the rhythms. Like his solo style got in the way of the Police style. But if he did mess up, Stuart and Andy adapted immediately, probably well used to it by this time on the tour. Twice Sting introduced Stuart and Andy, but no one introduced him :)

The other best parts for me were Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, one of my favorite songs of all time, and Invisible Sun. They played less than two hours, which is hard to believe when every song seemed 10 minutes long. They did two encores; I think Every Breath You Take was the final song.

Your set list:
Message in a Bottle
Synchronicity II
Roxanne
Don't Stand So Close to Me
Can't Stand Losing You/Regatta de Blanc
Next to You
Walking in Your Footsteps
De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da
Every Breath You Take
Walking on the Moon
Wrapped Around Your Finger
King of Pain
So Lonely
Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
The Bed's Too Big Without You
Driven to Tears
Truth Hits Everybody
Voices Inside My Head

Hopefully Blake will tell me if I've forgotten anything. I want this to come from my/our memory, not the official review of it in the Times or anything.

The opening band was Fictionplane, fronted by Sting's very own son. Stingson has the exact same voice as his father, though he does different things with it. Quite good, we thought.

They also allow food and water (bought there) inside. Blake got to sit next to a bunch of drunk men out for a guys' weekend. Fortunately, Jim, mr. friendly there beside her, didn't spill his beer or throw up on her. She was ready for it, though.

I panic slightly when I think of not seeing them again. So hopefully I can make it to another show. Anyone who's up for it, let me know.

The Police?

2007-08-04T23:13:00.000-04:00

YES PLEASE I'LL HAVE ANOTHER SIR

THANK YOU VERY MUCH

YOU'RE TOO KIND

Oh, did you mean the emptiness inside my heart?

2007-07-25T17:35:00.000-04:00

Today this woman I know marginally said to me:

"Look at YOU! [gesturing up and down me] You're a shadow of your former self! You've lost so much weight!"

I'm dying to know who she thought I was.

OK then.

2007-07-24T14:31:00.000-04:00

Spoiler was wrong.

That's all I'll say for a while. Except that I don't know when I'm as happy as sitting outside on a beautiful day reading a new Harry Potter book.

GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING SHIT FUCKING HELL

2007-07-19T19:39:00.000-04:00

So I ordered a Harry Potter shirt from Cafe Press, and it came and is too big, so I thought I'd order a smaller one now for later purposes.

What in the name of all that is holy WAS I THINKING?????????

ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

MOTHER FUCKING SHIT FUCKING HELL!!!!!!

Someone had DESIGNED and PUT UP a T-shirt that may very well GIVE AWAY THE GOD BLESSED ENDING

FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I both wrote and called Scholastic and I hope they sue the HELL out of both Cafe Press and the "shop." Of course that comes secondary to the hope that what I saw was wrong.

Can you believe this? Can you believe this happened to ME??

"well, if it does turn out to be real... you can always read the fake one i have," sez Hawkman (there are fake ones circulating too).

^(@^(@^(@^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@^(@^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&^(@$&^ B(&@#^&*$*%#@&$&)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_
amp;)&%()_$@*%)#@^(%&@#)(*)@_!)$_+*(%@#$^&%*)#*)_$(#@)_

GOD MOTHER FUCKING DAMN IT ALL TO HELL

I won't be checking back here till after I'm done reading.

FUCK.

My cats are awesome

2007-07-09T16:38:00.002-04:00

Stellar sea cow

2007-07-06T16:24:00.001-04:00

OW!

2007-07-03T19:58:00.000-04:00

Trying to keep the watermelon in your mouth while you sneeze!

Somebody slap Jerry Bruckheimer

2007-07-02T14:57:00.000-04:00

The first Pirates movie was SO good. So surprisingly, wonderfully good. It was good because of the snappy dialogue and the characters. Also the monkey.

The monkey may remain, and there are people bearing the same names as the original characters from movie 1, but the only thing snappy about At World's End was the sound of pieces of my heart breaking off as the film trod on everything that was good in the world. I still feel the stink of it on me a day later

I couldn't even tell you what happens in it. Betrayals and pirates from all over the world in ugly makeup and the destruction of a really cool character by applying a Honey I Blew Up the Kid factor.

My parents taught me never to hate anyone, but I come close with Bruckheimer. Just cos you can doesn't mean you should, you slimy overpaid peabrain.

"Tere MonkeyPantaloons!"

2007-06-28T11:10:00.001-04:00

"Now you know how to greet people in Estonian!"

... said Flickr to me this morning.

I ordered tuna

2007-06-27T20:52:00.000-04:00

But it turned out to be chicken.

:( boo.

eldritch:

2007-06-26T12:37:00.000-04:00

adj. strange or unearthly; eerie.

That's better.

2007-06-25T13:23:00.000-04:00

Finally called the landlords I had in Florida for 4 1/2 years. The missus said that of course she'd give me a glowing reference! And that they were so sad to lose me when I left.

Awwwwwww.

Anyway, that makes me feel a hundred gazillion times better about looking for another apartment.

#@^&($)#*(

2007-06-25T10:41:00.000-04:00

Last Tuesday I got a message from my landlady, Carol (sounding very unhappy about it herself), telling me that they are indeed NOT replacing any heaters this year. She said she would extend the lease a few months if I wanted to find something else. Or to let her know if I want to stay.

The next morning, my AC had leaked well into the carpet. (AC and heater are the same old junky unit, the kind of thing you find in motels.)

Carol said it costs $3,200 to replace one unit, including shipping and installation. Can't I just buy one, then? I said. She thought that was crazy. She said she'd try to convince her cheapskate husband to buy a reconditioned one.

The maintenance guy came to see if he could figure it out; these things are so old he doesn't know how they work. He's offended by how cheap the landlord is. If you were me, would you feel comfortable staying here? I asked him.

No, he said.

I don't want to move. I do, but I don't. The whole thing has my stomach in knots right now. There's not much out there. I have to convince a potential landlord/manager that 5 cats are no problem, or that I will pay for anything they do, at the same time promising they won't do anything. I don't know what my landlords in Florida will tell someone who calls for a reference, and I'm afraid to find out. I guess that should be the first thing I do about this today: see what they say, find out if I can relax about that at least.

I looked at a condo Saturday. It's in a beautiful area; the living room looks out onto Six Mile Creek, and it's sunny and beautiful downstairs. Small bedrooms, though, and some other issues. Plus, if I'm leaving Ithaca in a year, it's not worth the closing costs.

When my parents (who visited Saturday) and I came back from that, I found that my water heater had leaked AGAIN.

There's not much put there right now, apartment wise. Guess I really shoulda looked more seriously before. Hindsight is always blah blah blah. Whatever the complete opposite of grounded is, that's where I am right now. Space shuttle? Pluto?

My stomach is a mess. All my insides are. Outsides aren't so great either.

If I were a billionaire

2007-06-21T17:25:00.001-04:00

I'd build nursing homes across the land that were actually fun and pleasant to live in, and reasonably priced for the inhabitants too. I'd pay the staff really really well and give them lots of vacation and paid leave so they wouldn't burn out.

And I'd attach them to the animal sanctuaries I'd also be building.

What do you think a good name for these places would be?

Proof of God

2007-06-15T10:46:00.001-04:00

I stumbled upon this photo after someone told me about People picking Hugh for Best in a Bathing Suit or something like that. I couldn't work for another 10 minutes.

Granted that this is coming from someone who believes in God already, but: Seriously, something this beautiful couldn't exist without design, IMO. And it might point to some feminine divinity as well [insert winking smiley face].

(Ignore the obvious airbrushing. Who the hell airbrushes Hugh Jackman? It's like giving David a tan.)

Soothsayer

2007-06-15T10:39:00.001-04:00

Said friend LunaSea today, as we talked about how we never make it dancing when we want to:

We are all the ruiners of our own fun.

Elf-thwarters -- HA ha, oh why do I bother. "Self-thwarters in the first degree," I was trying to say. But now I must go stop some elves from accomplishing their established goals.

Life has been empty, I know,

2007-06-13T21:37:00.000-04:00

without any new posts. But it's because I been wiped out on many fronts and uninspired.

But! What happy news! Today was (still is) Jenny's birthday! Yesterday was Steve's! Two Geminis. HOW APROPOS.

Yesterday was also one of two yearly all-staff meetings for alumni affairs. And it was a team-building day! Oh what FUN!

I'm being sarcastic!

I did talk to a cool guy (no, not like that) and chatted with this person who has ended up in our cube neighborhood for reasons we don't understand. The actual team-building stuff was pointless. Our table (that's how we were put into teams: where they assigned us seats) would have talked anyway. There would have been much better ways to make use of that time. More constructive exercises. And I had to get up by 6:30, and I hadn't slept well to start with, and it was warm under the tent, and this had me exhausted for the rest of the day.

Can I get an AMEN, Jessica and Jenny?

At least it were pretty out.

* * *

I got my Dad some wine books and Wine Spectator (just one copy; it's expensive for a subscription) for Father's Day.

And with that, I am petering out. Happy tails. rails. WHATEVER.

Like Hubba Bubba.

2007-06-06T20:39:00.000-04:00

I really miss the gaseous-state chewing gum that you used to be able to get in the '70s

props to Hawkman for sharing the joy.

To sleep, perchance to get a migraine and watch MAS*H all night long

2007-05-30T12:32:00.000-04:00

It began with people laughing at me and ended in tears, as only a night at the hospital for me can.

Last night I had a sleep study. This means people studied my sleep at a sleep clinic in the local place of round-the-clock medical care. I didn't expect to sleep much or well, but I did expect to do better than this.

Let's start in the parking lot. ("If I had a dollar!" you're saying. You trollop) The prep sheet recommended bringing your own pillow, because even it knows how crappy hospital pillows are. I use three during the night, and three very specific ones, because I have spent too many years dealing with headaches and neck pain and anyone else who has knows that this means you have to have very specific pillows in order to not wake up in pain every day. So I stuffed two into a small suitcase and put the third into a giant Ziploc bag.

As I headed for the hospital entrance, I noticed a couple also making their way, behind me, in the same direction. Outside the hospital it's really quite beautiful, I must note; you cross a really pretty creek and pass lots of trees and these round, purple flowers atop tall stems that look like fountains in '70s malls. Also lilacs.

Somewhere around there I heard the people behind me laughing and then this pointed throat-clearing. I had a feeling they were noticing my luggage and remarking that I must be going to the sleep clinic. I turned and looked at them and knew, with my great big giant brain, that something like this was indeed what they were saying.

Also they might have been laughing at the bepenguined winter scene on the pillow in the Ziploc bag.

This made me happy that I might thusly amuse others. YES! PENGUIN! Now I must go sleep on this penguin. You wish you had one too! Kisses!

I checked in at admissions and proceeded to the sleep center. Diane was the sleep technician who would be watching over me through the night in a not-at-all-freaky way. Actually she was really cool and made me feel quite at ease. I warned her that I would likely be going to the bathroom a lot, especially since my kidneys react to urinary obstacles by kicking it up to 11. When people tell her they've had to go for hours but didn't want to bother her, though, she always tells them she wishes they had called. She would much rather they were sleeping. So I told her I would, in that "OK, you asked for it" way where your voice rises in hills throughout the sentence.

It took about half an hour to hook me up to all the wires. I peed and got into bed to read. My face was tensing up quite painfully in reaction to the things stuck to it. One of the few times in my life when I was able to note the difference between head pain and an actual headache. This pain went through regular cycles during which I thought "OH thank God, I'm OK," and then shortly thereafter was cursing the heavens. And it made me drink a lot of water.

You're a smart cookie. You know where that's going.

Once I was too tired to read about Harry's new Firebolt anymore, I tried relaxation stuff on my iPod, and when that was going nowhere, M*A*S*H on my wee DVD player.

Nothing. The pain was keeping me awake, as was the kidney-bladder dynamic duo (trio) that is never so happy as when we're in a situation where it's a difficulty to pee. "Ha, a CHALLENGE!" bladder says (in a British accent, don't ask me why). "Kidneys! Churn out the yellow like you've never churned before!"

When I had to go to the bathroom or needed anything at all, I just said Diane's name, and she came padding along. The intercom was set one way so she could hear me. At one point I said her name and the door opened and it was a young man in scrubs. "You're a METAMORPH!? AWESOME!!" I hollered.

No, I didn't. And no, she wasn't. Although I never did see them both at the same time ...

As I feared, head-pain did evolve into head-ache. Next time I called Diane, Man came again (1 a.m., he told me it was). I asked if there was any reason I couldn't take Aleve. Nope, he said. I stumbled over to grab my purse and dug through it in the bathroom. I knew from past assessments that there should be two Aleve in there. Thank GOD there were. I was an unhappy mess at this point, unhappily triply messy for all the things attached to me making me oh so pretty. "I really don't look like this," I wanted to tell Man and wave my hand before myself so that he'd see the prettiest me ever.

(I wasn't after him or anything. Just didn't want anyone seeing me like that. Not him, not Diane, not God in His Heaven.)

"What's this 'sleep'? It rhymes with
'weep'; THAT I can do."

Aleve kicked in fast. Sleep still didn't. When all was said and done, I slept in a few like 20-minute batches. (Diane said 2-3 hours total.) I also watched several M*A*S*H episodes multiple times. I probably went to the bathroom 7 or 8 times. They wake you up at 5:30 to leave, because by then the techs have been there like 10 hours and need to go home to sleep themselves. When Diane was pulling the wires off me, she recommended I take the day off if I could.

I stopped at work to grab stuff to do at home, got an egg sammich at CTB and came home, to the confusion of five fuzzy quadrupeds. As I got water out of the Brita, Fathom peeked around the counter corner at me and told me in no uncertain terms that I was to be HERE with THEM during THE DARKNESS. At 8 I got back in bed with NPR and zonked out.

I'll find out Monday whether they were able to learn anything or not. If not, I shall not rest until I have killed Lord Voldemort! No, Ron, I will not stop saying his name!

I have no idea why I wrote this a coupla weeks ago.

2007-05-21T10:52:00.000-04:00

so youre just a woman on a horse

In fact I suspect I didn't write it, but got it somewhere else. I bet J will know.

But I am NOT wearing a swimsuit yet.

2007-05-21T10:36:00.000-04:00

There are many good things about Florida. Summer is not one of them. A Florida summer grabs you by the breath and the lungs as you step outside and crams itself into your nose and airways and ears and hair and shoes and the small of your back, which will be soaked in sweat before you make it the six steps to your car at 9 a.m. It wraps you in a thick wet wool blanket pulled down over your face and doesn't let go till December. If you're lucky.

It makes you want to cut your hair.

Do you SEE what I mean?

Some people who grew up in Florida don't even notice, of course. To you I say Brava. To you I also say See ya in March.

A New York summer approaches, and with it many sundry Happinesses. It's a big change from Florida summers, for sure: you look forward to it. People actually take vacations, and not just cos their kids are out of school. Local vacations. To the lake or the mountains. Even the lake IN the mountains. Yes, lakes in the mountains in the summertime. They're just that good. Cabins and cottages and "camp" when it means "lots of houses by the lake."

This is where those Country Time Lemonade ads happen. I want a bike.

(The nature of my magic will likely mean that I am ruining this summer by paying it early tribute, but a life lived in fear is a life half lived, so fie on thee, Fates. And send me a sandwich, would you?)

Here, summer waits gently for you to open your door and step outside, a lithe blue-gold fairy the color of sunshine, all swathed in modulating green. She invites you to have ice cream and barbecues and lie in the sun not for the tanning but to float in this almost dream world. There are trails to be hiked and water to be boated and bluegreen nights to laugh in and fireflies to watch while frogs peep and crickets sing. Golden golden air to breathe deeply as it nourishes you from the inside out. It revives your soul and reminds you why you came to this Earth.

And you get to wear pretty skirts, too.

what chocolate can do of a Thursday night

2007-05-18T13:29:00.000-04:00

As I was lying in bed last night waiting for the sweet gift of sleep -- which, probably thanks to the slow waltz of Wegmans' Chocolate Elegance through my veins, was a damned long time a-comin' -- I felt like my life is really pretty together. It stunned me, wondering why I don't feel like that more often. Most of you know the answer to that: The little things get me down. I'm trying to thwart that, though. See the sunny picture. I think the arrival of spring has knocked some sense into me too, as spring arrivals are wont to do. Forget-me-nots are everywhere, and the lilacs are blossoming -- two of my very ultimately ice-cream-on-top favorite things on this earth. And I'm exercising a lot, too, which just makes a person feel good.

So I want to sing the praises of a danged good life and give thanks to the gods for it all. I have a job that's not so bad, even if it feels empty, and because of it I know Jenny and Chris K and others. I live in New York again, and maybe one day I'll feel like I really even belong here. Shelter over my head, car I love, family close by. Five fuzzbots who are some of the most amazing souls I have ever known. Amazing wonderful terrific sister- and brother-friends, who just make this life a wonderful place to be: (in no particular order) Chris R, Chris H, Ealish, Erica, Matt, Katrina, Amy, Jenny, Mary, Melissa, Chris, Chris, Jen, Blake, Karla, Megan, Paul, Kirt ... I feel like I'm giving a commencement speech here, but it's long overdue. You rock, and I love you all. I am so Goddamned/Godblessed lucky for the fact of you.

What really set me on this path was thinking about what I want in a guy -- and what I don't want. I want someone who's Arrived, who's together and happy and not needy. Someone open and not afraid. Confident and happy enough to reach out to me when I give him a flash of that smile (name the song! EALISH). When I was thinking about this, I realized that I have finally Arrived in my own sense. You never finish changing, but you hit a point where you really start to become the person you've always wanted to be (unless you were lucky enough to be that person long ago). The only thing missing in my life right now is The Guy. Everything else? Smackin' dandy fine, it is.

I've said it before, but you know what? I'm ready. For real.

(Also, I watched Grey's Anatomy last night, and that show ALWAYS puts me into an emotional tailspin or sets me musing about the big-picture state of my life.)

He's even been known to drag one away

2007-05-08T16:13:00.000-04:00

Salem likes himself a nice fresh nanner of a day.

My apartment smells like beans

2007-05-07T11:57:00.000-04:00

And my lips are weirdly raw and red. So are J's & M's. But I don't think Blake's were. Julie's weren't. The question is, What happened to us and not to others? What did we imbibe/consume? Did the shade of Quexacoatl settle upon us in some dark moment and try to nurse our inner wounds?

Or was it the consequences of the margarita salt? (No; J doesn't like salt.) Not like there was a raging game of Spin the Bottle. (Which, you will not be surprised to learn, I never ever played.)

A spatula and a small blue martini glass didst vanish, however. Somewhere out there they are dancing a sultry flamenco, turning close and slowly through gently spiraling circles of salt in a warm and dimly lit room.

The trajectory of smell

2007-04-27T10:21:00.000-04:00

It's downright amazing to me, and a little horrifying, the things smell can do. For instance: In my apartment of kitty fun and happy good times, the litter boxes are in what is socially termed the guest bathroom. And way in the back of it, in the tub. Make a good hard U-turn through the apartment from there, and you end up where I sleep. You also are following the exact path the potent smell of cat poo takes through the place.

I really don't know how it does it. I do know a few other things: that 60%-80% of Cree family cats prefer not to bury their poo; that they go in cycles, sometimes pooping during the night, sometimes during the day; that the vectored odor comes in waves and lasts for a good 20-30 minutes; that slightly to the left or right of my usual sleeping spot, the smell is diminished or nonexistent. Last night was just intolerable, and I would have closed my door or buried the turds myself had I not been pinned down by two fuzzy gray things. All bets are off when the gray things are involved. Or the black moof. Also the B&Ws. See how things get complicated. (Clearly I did just barely tolerate it till the waning, but not without thrashing and cussing at the gods.)

They eat a coupla different dry foods, and one, which is the super duper healthy made-from-raw-food kind, just ignites that smell right up. Some of you have experienced it your own selves (J&M). I'd keep that bathroom door mostly closed, but someone peed behind it the last time I did. (Not J&M.)

Pity the slinker

2007-04-26T10:18:00.000-04:00

Evolution has been cruel to the poor earthworm and his moist brethren and sistren. They live in earthy underground worm caverns. They probably even have a Wegmans. Then it rains. They must escape their happy wormy homes else they'll perish. So they head out. Where bad things happen to them. Bad things! Not fair. Not fair at all!

Fie on thee, evolution! What did the worm ever do to you?

[breathe]

2007-04-23T14:35:00.000-04:00

GORGEOUS out this weekend and today and Melissa threw a wonderful tea open house Saturday and I sat outside yesterday reading and it was like 80 and the cats got to hang out by the screens watching chipmunks and ahhhhhhh.

More hobo names for your consideration

2007-04-19T11:56:00.000-04:00

Pie-Pants Donkeytoes
Paul Chewer-of-Cans and Rosy-Cheeked
Ratsoother Matt
Knifey (Erica)
Jess "Feistylocks" Railrider
Puddinhead Cala Rico Salamander Jones
AmyJoTrolleywalla
Megan

Sorry to bring you down, but I was thinking

2007-04-19T11:50:00.000-04:00

April may be the cruelest month, but look what we've done to April:

Waco siege culmination: April 19.
Oklahoma City bombing: April 19.
Columbine: April 20.
Now this ...

I heard someone once mention how the enormity of a horrific occurrence can turn a place name into an event. Like these, like Tiananmen Square.

like fairies or sumthin.

2007-04-18T21:00:00.000-04:00

All right, here I go with my effort to write more, thus entertaining at least two people I know and hopefully producing some decent stuff once in a while.

Weather is finally turning. Of course, it seemed to be turning before too. It could turn back again. It's still 40 out right now, so that's not so bad. I will probably hear dripping all night long. From outside. The song of melting snow. Go, snow! Go! GET THEE ON THE NIGHT TRAIN OUT OF HERE!

Bliss has come by to say Hello. I shared my salmon with her tonight. She liked it. I have to close Rogue and Salem in my room when I eat salmon in order to eat in peace. But I save them some. OH MY GOD SHE IS SO FREAKING CUTE I can't even TELL you. I need to win the lottery so I can stay home with them and give them all the glorious attention they deserve.

Otherwise, I'm beginning the quest for Meaning in my life. See, in Florida, I was super unhappy, but I had Purpose: Getting Out. (Also, Disney World.) Now, I'm out. So now what? You see my dilemma. A few things to try:

volunteering, like at the Cayuga Nature Center
drawing more
writing more
probably not looking at the new Disney bridal gowns anymore
finding that damned (not really!) someone to share this nonwork time with. Heck, maybe we could even share work time together. I'm really quite bored with the work I'm doing now. Oh, so I guess that's another point:
starting to look for a new job? I don't feel like I've paid my dues at this one yet. I suppose that entails feeling like I'm doing well at it. But I can't get interested enough to. Or, I guess there's even a difference between being interested and caring. Some of it, I just don't care about.

"Lost" is on shortly. Wish I could justify staying up for it; the last two weeks have been OK. Being this tired, though ... well. I can at least pull out a colored pencil and draw a princessy lady. One day I will turn my princessy ladies into a moneymaking machine. Not a good name for the company, though. Princessy Lady Moneymaking Machine. I think we'll end up with something Monkeylike.

Ah crud, I came up with a great hobo name for Jenny today. Something -- oh yeah, Stinkeye Jenny. Cos she gave me it! The stinkeye! STINKEYE JENNY.

Other ideas:
Trentsmelling Elly
Futuresmelling Blakaroo Winkins
Idaho Sockstealer Hawkensmithy
Cashew-hat Melissa
Mary "Normothermia" Noontime

Yellow AND WHITE

2007-04-17T14:44:00.000-04:00

I have decided to stick Mother Nature with a good "TAKE THAT!" by ... um ... buying daisies.

SO THERE! Just WATCH me enjoy ... your other products! You!

Weirdness is afoot

2007-04-16T15:50:00.000-04:00

Yesterday the birds started banging into the windows. This never happens. Jenny noticed it happening at her house today, too. And turkeys went by yesterday. Six of them! After a night when I'd had a dream about turkey vultures!

It was a weekend of High Loki Days, too, from a dirty litter garbage bag breaking open in my car to a bottle of wine breaking on the floor to faulty new electronics, more puddles of wine, burned pie fixins, and bones in my salmon. But, in counterbalance, there were visits with Uncle Munky and J&M, plus some excellent old-timey music at the Rongo.

Snow has been whorling all day. And birds are banging into windows. They're confused by this April, confused by why the world is still brown (till it became white today). And the flowers. Won't someone think of the flowers? Last week, I told them. RUN, I said.

Holy running water, Batman

2007-04-12T15:23:00.000-04:00

check out this rental in town

(Besides direwolves)

2007-04-11T11:50:00.000-04:00

If April showers bring May flowers, what does April snow bring?

Days With Elly

2007-04-05T13:12:00.000-04:00

Overheard at Animal Kingdom:

1. That's our grandson. He filled his heinie with ice cubes. --woman explaining the boy squatting over ice

2. Follow the Chinese monks! --two boys, no monks in sight, Chinese or otherwise

Spoken at Animal Kingdom:
If I'm gonna eat off anyone's pants, I don't want it to be Mickey Mouse. --re: plate that is Mickey's pants

The glaring sky

2007-04-05T12:48:00.000-04:00

Winter encumbers us, makes the average and mundane difficult and unlikable. Coats and boots hold us down and back. The sky is a bad mood and drips its disgruntlingness down where we can't avoid it. April Winter is spiteful, like a co-worker no one ever really liked who doesn't want you enjoying yourself. It's Dwight, just proving a point.

I look like a little Eastern European girl at the feet, white stockings with cross-strapped black shoes.

The man who has an office but won't close his door is on the phone, letting me hear his whole end of the conversation, fake hacking for the entertainment of the other conversant. I take words and throw them into new places, verbal yoga. Bend this way now!

So are we having any fun yet? he yells. Yesterday he tried to foist his university umbrella on someone who kept insisting she had one already. Your parapluie cannot be as good as mine, the unspoken. I have a brick,someone just told him. Don't make her mad,says the assistant. She knows. She knows who wants to do what with the brick.

1,000 Kinds of Awesome

2007-03-30T10:59:00.000-04:00

In addition to all the other great birthday wishes and stuff that happened yesterday, two surprises made the day:

1. carrot-cake cupcakes delivered by messenger (Jenny), made by the always thoughtful and talented Melissa

2. a plastering of birthday-captioned ninjas, hoboes, monkeys, Trek calendar pages, and more all over my apartment, plus balloons and a not-quite-inflated giant palm tree draped over the shower curtain rod. A la Jenny, with Chris K and Mary as collaborators. Mary made me an awesome card, too, featuring drawings of, ta daa: a Cat, a Monkey, a piece of Pie, a Ninja, and a Hobo. And me with a red water bottle.

The Idylls of March

2007-03-27T22:03:00.000-04:00

I’ve been back about 24 hours and am none too happy about it, except for the feline reunion, and now am freshly pissed that there will be no new Battlestar Galactica till two thousand freaking 8. I was supposed to have today off, but I learned Monday of a department retreat today that was going to leave me with a free afternoon, all at no charge to me, so I went and am taking Wednesday off instead.

So my trip was great but too busy. I’ll start at the beginning.

The lovely and talented Susan picked me up from the airport, and on the way home William and TR proceeded to assault me with dueling stories about, respectively, airplanes and Titanic-like ships. It was hilarious. William also quickly told me that they had a carrot cake for me and it was a surprise. (To the uninitiated, Susan always makes me a carrot cake for my birthday, even the two since I left Orlando.) (AND she makes the most amazing, wonderful carrot cake ever.) Hee. The rest of the day he kept dropping that into conversation: AND we have carrot cake. Apparently there was some agreement that no one would have any till we all had some together — which ended up not being till the next day.

Anyhoo, William and I both went to take naps (separately). Later I had dinner at the best Indian restaurant there must be on the planet, Memories of India, with Ealish, Megan and Leigh. I surprised them all by having a beer. They don’t know me at ALL anymore. After dinner we went to the Mall at Millenia [sic] to hit some Anthro and Ann Taylor Loft. The latter is a necessity after the exercise in self-loathing that is trying on clothes at the former. I spent $148 at ATL. I was also looking for a Verizon store/kiosk for to replace the phone I got in 2001. Fortunately for later in the story, there wasn’t one. Ea drove me back to C&S’s, and the lovely couple and I stayed up chatting for a while. I did not get to see anywhere near enough of them, despite sleeping three nights in their house. TR did see me without pants, though.

Saturday was Miss Presley’s Happy Super Fun Day of Birthdaytime Monkey Fun. There was much bouncing and giggling and many inflatable things. There were people I wanted to see. There was fruit in a bowl on the table. There was Matt and Katrina and Phoebe taking me to the airport after a trip to Cracker Barrel we had to abandon due to crappy service. There was the rental car that smelled of cologne. There was me not really caring, knowing it would be such a small part of my time there. I got to C&S’s as round 1 of Russian poker was ending, and Ed got up to give me a hug. I was too tired to even follow the game (really, I can not-follow it wide awake too; I’m that good) and went to bed even before TR did. (Oh, we did have the cake early in the day, before leaving for P’s party.)

*INTERMISSION*
rdddddf — some cat

Sunday Ea took me to the lighthouse she’d been trying to for at least 2 years. First we had a yummy lunch at a place whose name I can’t remember — Woodbury's? Eh, check the comments, she’ll likely remind me before you read this. The lighthouse was cool and left its mark on my quadriceps for 3+ days (I hobbled!). The beach was wonderful, because it is (a) the beach and (2) the beach. Sand + ocean = … I don’t think the right word exists. At least not in English. Went to dinner with C&S&W&TR and learned that William has no shame about nipples, and Houlihans servers can’t remember to bring spoons to save their lives.

Stayed up late with C&S. Got pictures with both of them. Maybe one day C will even look like he likes me in a photo.

Monday was Meet the Bee day! Went to Hawkman’s to meet his baby baby girl, who is all kinds of beautiful and awestriking from here till next Tuesday. Then I went to buy sneakers. Then to the airport for Mom. Then to Florida Mall to see if a different size ATL shorts would fit me better than the ones I got.

That’s where we stumbled across Verizon. Between the two guys there, I picked Keith, because I was afraid the other one would try to finesse me, and I hate that. It was not a good reason. But it’s OK in the end, because I picked Keith. Keith was kinda like a slimmer-faced, milder, calmer Craig-of-Amy, and he had the best Southern-accented voice and just took care of things right away, no fuss, no complaints, no telling you what you did wrong or No-you-should-get-the-new-$300-phone. But it wasn’t that. It was just … something. And when the transaction was done and thank you and bye bye … there had been some kind of kismet.

And fancy that, I didn’t need a different size of shorts after all.

Off we went to check into our Disney hotel. We tried to shop some that night but were too tired.

Tuesday, Magic Kingdom with Mom. Saw the inside of Space Mountain WITH THE LIGHTS ALL ON AND ABLAZE and not a soul in sight (besides us)(though I didn't actually see our souls, that I know of). Like seeing your grandpa in his underpants or something. But with more roller coaster tracks.

Wednesday, lunch with the old gang. William apparently took his pants off while the rest of us were posing for a photo at Olive Garden, but we all missed it. Then hanging around the office somewhat. Back at the hotel, Ea arrived to stay for a few days, and she and my Mom and I all had a yummy dinner at Artist Point.

Thursday, I went to Disney-MGM Studios to ride Tower of Terror while my Mom and Ea didn’t. We met at Epcot later and headed off to eat and shop. Had some disappointing sushi but bought good stuff in Japan, as always.

(WHY are my cats not even a little bit lap cats?)

Friday was Animal Kingdom with Ea—peeing tigers! BABY MONKEY!!!!! Then tea at the Grand Floridian. Normally that would take about two hours, but this woman serving us whizzed through everything, and we were done in 45 minutes, which was kinda disappointing in a way but allowed time for other stuff. My Mom and I wandered some hotels while Ea went back to the room to recharge. Dinner with Leigh at the Crystal Palace while the 8 p.m. parade went by outside. L&E&I hurried off then to ride as much as we could in the 40 minutes remaining in park hours. We hit the renewed, beJacked Pirates, which was OK, but not earthshaking. Then it was off to Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. As our runaway mine train returned conveniently to the station, we heard the words “go again,” and off the train went for the very last run of the night. As we were making our way back toward Main Street again, we found out there’s a secret Goodbye parade at 10. That was cool. Peeing tigers, baby monkey, extra surprise ride, secret parade!

Saturday T-bone came down for brunch at Boma, which was very yummy and way cheaper than dinner at Boma. We all spent the afternoon together FINALLY RELAXING by the pool. It was all nonstop till that afternoon. E&T left in the late afternoon, which parting was such sweet sorrow. Chris came over with William and TR that evening (leaving Susan time to take an exam online at home). We went to Downtown Disney and hit the carousel, the toy-store bonanza that is Once Upon a Toy (TR helped me pick out presents for P&P even), the train, and the Lego store. AND we took the boat there and back, which the boys loved. William and I had a long talk about the orange shark following us that ate watermelon. Then they left me too and I was sad.

Sunday I got to see old friends Scott and Delma and Lenore for brunch for the first time in too many years. Then Amy brought Pickle and Matt & Katrina brought Phoebes and we went off for pony rides and cowboy dinner and swimming in the pool. Then they left me too and I was sad. But also so happy.

[My poor Mom probably never understood what she was in for when she agreed to also come for a week. I warned her … and Rogue is watching the screen as I type right now. Coolest cat EVER.]

If I began with the airport, I should conclude with it, or at least with the ride there. We took Disney's Magical Express, yes that's right I did just say that, and the driver was hilarious. His name was Bill. He made me laugh out loud. That's right, L-O-L. Salud, Bill!

Good gods, this sounds like nothing here, at least compared with what it really was. And I certainly didn’t do it its emotional or humorical justice. But it was 10 packed days. 11, if you count the Monday we left (yesterday). I can’t believe how busy it was. It was just wonderful seeing everyone and knowing how much they care about me. I just can’t believe that I was there a good 4+ days longer than last year and still had no regular vacation downtime. AND I didn’t see Erica at all! She got stuck in Greece for 4 extra days, on her belated honeymoon. The next time I see you, Erica, you’ll have a new BABY!!

The cats are all sitting around right now waiting for me to do something. Now I get to really find out how Otter is doing off Prozac. I thought having my birthday Thursday (my birthday’s Thursday, did you know?) would keep me chipper upon my return, but it hasn’t. It just hasn’t. Well, no, maybe it will. Probably. Anyway, time to decompress. And sleep. I think I’ll just sleep all day Wednesday.

I also read this romantic fantasy book that has some ideas in it similar to my Loki ones, but the writing is just despicable. Things like “she literally melted” (TWICE) and “the pain … was … painful” and dialogue that reminds me of what I wrote when I was 15 and had no idea how people really talk to each other. HOW does this crap get by editors? WHY ARE SUCH BAD EDITORS EDITING THINGS THAT GET PUBLISHED? But actually the characters were pretty good, and I miss something about it, so the writer is doing SOMETHING right. Blake and Ea might both enjoy it, so Blake gets it next.

THE CHIPMUNKS HAVE DISEMBARKED

2007-03-12T18:56:00.000-04:00

It's really warm out now, for us. I went outside to fill the bird feeders and near to stepped on a mole that was chewing on one of my patio chairs. After I came in I heard the cats talking to some critter/s outside, and when I looked to see which one/s -- it was a chipmunk! They're supposed to be hibernating! It's plenty March-warm today, but it's gonna snow Thursday! What then? WHAT THEN??

(I expect Jenny or Blake will know.)

In other news, Firefly ROCKS. I can't believe stupid stupidhead Fox only gave the show one season. No, one HALF season. Effing scheizeheads. I can't wait till I've watched it often enough that I start talking like the Firefly people.

Fox sucks. Fox cancels all the good shows. Stupid stupid Fox.

2007-03-07T08:47:00.000-05:00

"Morning, Starbuck, what do you hear?"

"Nothing but the rain, sir."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

2007-03-05T20:09:00.000-05:00

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Which comes so close!

2007-03-02T16:59:00.000-05:00

Possibly the best thing about the word "moniker" is that it is so easy to misspell it "monkier."

A sleeve of crackers, a jug of blue Gatorade, and kitties

2007-03-01T10:52:00.000-05:00

I'm about to break my fast with saltines and organic pear nectar (made from hand-picked Italian pears. Not monkey-pikt, alas, but a girl has to make do).

Yesterday I had 8 saltines and some blue Gatorade. Topped off the night with the same ear nectar. No, no, PEAR nectar. This keyboard likes to drop letters. I promise you I would not know ear nectar if it bit me on the nose.

It has become clear that I am not as impervious to contagious bugs as I have been proclaiming for years (although really, I have done pretty well, considering). I still contend that it could be food poisoning, but apparently this thing is going around, though I don't know of anyone with it here. Maybe my connections to my Florida friends are just that strong, and I caught this stomach bug from Hawkman or Julia after all.

(Here's where I'm contractually obligated to point out that if it's in the stomach, dear darlings and mouselings, it's not a flu. You can call it that for the sake of ease if you like, but I will be forced to elaborate on the differences. Contract.)

I feel a lot better than yesterday, and in fact quite good overall. (And a gazillion times better than Tuesday night, when I was throwing up till midnight.) I spent Wednesday in bed watching M*A*S*H, and moved to the couch for a tape of Gilmore Girls in the evening. Kitties surrounded me at every turn, emitting their Magickal Feline Powers of Healing and Snorgling and Fuzzy Delight into me (at me?). Today I feel cleansed and refreshed. Maybe I should take a fasting lesson or two from Shteven. I know better than to try to do anything more than shower today, though. There are sounds coming from my stomach of the sort that should only be heard from a chem lab: rumblings, bubblings and the occasional voice or two. Demons maybe. Or the natives are appeasing -- maybe building -- a volcano.

And I am making do at all because of the lovely and talented Melissa. Standing O for Melissa! Who brough me bags of goods yesterday that went above and beyond anything I'd hoped or asked for. I wonder how long I can get by on pears, bananas and Cheerios. Right now I can't imagine wanting anything else, and all mention of other food makes me feel ill again. I think it will be a long time before I have dairy again. (Maybe not till Memories :)

I did promise to work from home, though. So my laptop and I will be billeted in bed or on couch for the day. A lovely day to you all.

UPDATE: I'm not as better as I thought. I'm going to lie down now.

"Henrietta sometimes stages ambushes from atop a donkey"

2007-02-27T14:35:00.000-05:00

Check out this Slate article about a cool chicken and her paying-attention owner. It's absolutely one of the primary things I believe about animals.

(And that has to be one of the best sentences ever written, the one I quoted up there)

Letter to the level-headed extry-religious parents of Texas and other places

2007-02-26T15:14:00.000-05:00

(Not Texas' actual birth parents; I think we all know those were a whore and a lonesome cowboy)

If your daughters get the vaccine against human papilloma virus, they will so totally think it's a license to have sex! Because if they don't get it, they'll absolutely stop their hormone-driven boyfriends in their tracks with a well-informed "No, I will not have sex with you, because I might get genital warts if I do, and then in 20-40 years I might get cervical cancer as a result." That's exactly how 13-year-old girls think. Yes, Texas parents, you have your fingers on the pulse of a generation!

And by all means, please don't worry about instead developing your daughter's self-confidence and self-image to the point where she won't be afraid of losing her boyfriend's love if she doesn't have sex with him. Oh no. I'm sure you're doing just fine, and it's only the knowledge that she won't get genital warts that will set her free on the highway of youthful lustyness.

(Aimed, of course, only at those with the attitude addressed above. There are probably plenty of Texas parents who are miffed the requirement got nixed.)

set on PORTRAIT

2007-02-20T19:58:00.000-05:00

Common photos you find among guys on online dating sites:

The Rugged Outdoorsman: on a bike, on top of a mountain, or in front of a canyon or waterfall, ready to lead you through the wilds of Tibet or Pennsylvania
Father Material: posing with some child or baby (hopefully a relative)
The Jack Hanna/Mr. Sensitive: snorgling a cat
Variations on a Theme, which must go something like this: "Brother Sammy, take some photos of me for the ladies," where Sammy's idea of "some" is moving slightly to the left after #6
The Reached-Out-With-a-Camera self-shot
Its saucy sibling, the Taken-in-a-Mirror-With-the-Camera-Clearly-Visible shot
The Clearly-From-10-Years-Ago shot, just so you know what he CAN look like
And the Platinum: the Cropped-Out-My-Ex-So-You-Can-See-Me-in-a-Suit deluxe grand slam.

Bleh

2007-02-20T13:52:00.000-05:00

There's something about smokers here where you can tell they're smokers just by looking at them, particularly those who are probably 40 and older. They're very pinched and wrinkled. Their skin has a grey tinge. Their eyes are hollow. Their hair even seems stiff and parched. The spectre of death hovers above them. Children weep as they pass.

I never noticed this among people in Orlando. I wonder if the sun plumps them up somehow, or if it's simply that fewer people there continue to smoke as they get older. It definitely seems like more people smoke here.

(Note to those smokers who think that being outside means other people can't smell it: It doesn't. We can.)

(That is not directed at people who merely smoke outside. I know Amy knows. AMY KNOWS ALL.)

See ...

2007-02-15T11:36:00.000-05:00

See, first I said, in essence, "I bet we get no snow." Then we got FEET of it. So the next post I titled, basically, "I couldn't POSSIBLY meet my guy by March 29!"

Sorry for the confusion. Carry on.

Your local on the 8s

2007-02-14T19:35:00.000-05:00

Fathom meets snow

BTW, if it didn't come across, the title of the previous post was a reference to the post before it.

I bet I'll never be dating the man I'm going to marry by my birthday this year or be married in 2008 and have 50+ happy years with him

2007-02-14T11:53:00.000-05:00

They're saying 20-30 inches by the time it's over

2007-02-13T20:53:00.000-05:00

But I bet we don't get 6 even. Dangit.

NEW! Guilt-free!

2007-02-11T18:49:00.000-05:00

I'm a sucker for a good romance movie, and I am no longer afraid to admit it. Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Emma, Under the Tuscan Sun, French Kiss especially, and even You've Got Mail (based on an old Jimmy Stewart movie, don'tcha know). French Kiss might be my favorite, all because of Kevin Kline. How did he not get more romantic leading roles? Was it that Phoebe Cates, or that damned piano? Could it have been the Muppets?

I get in the mood to watch them quite often lately (though I have worn out the Austen films). They're good brain-needs-downtime fillers, and probably help supply the emotion my life is lacking. There are so many crap ones out there, though, that make the good ones look bad, since they're ridiculously lumped into the same category. I have tried to wait out movies like Raising Helen and My Best Friend's Wedding and, most recently, Little Black Book, hoping for some kind of redemption moment, and all I get is my skin separating into its individual layers.

Today I watched, for the first time ever, The Cutting Edge. For some reason I totally love D.B. Sweeney now (just today!), yet didn't back in the day. This movie screams, however, NO ONE INVOLVED WITH THIS FILM HAS EVER SEEN SKATING IN REAL LIFE, AND THEY ARE NOT CERTAIN IT TRULY EXISTS. But DeeBee definitely had it going on, and he made the cheesy edits worthwhile.

13 Going on 30 I liked for real. And I want to see Music and Lyrics because it's so clearly a take on Duran Duran.

And I won't call them chick flicks, either, because I think that's silly. If women ran the entertainment business, there would be no such moniker. I'm not going to start insisting people spell women "womyn" or anything. But still.

Jack Frost, out of hand

2007-02-05T16:51:00.000-05:00

Today's the kind of back-biting, toe-eating cold that makes people who are out in it become their smallest selves inside their bodies, huddled and bent from the effort of existing. The kind of day where you want to

soak your feet in hot chocolate.

How do those tiny little birds stay warm out there? They're not wearing socks!

As predicted

2007-01-30T15:49:00.000-05:00

By both Nostradamus and me (prove he didn't!), I feel normal so far today.

A couple of entries:

1. I have tried to watch "Heroes" and just don't think I can stick it out. Great idea, good editing, good shooting. Crappy writing. Not usually the death knell for a TV show (see "all of ABC's Friday night lineups since inception"), but enough to drive me away. Though the previews for next week looked really good. Maybe I'll just watch the last 5 minutes.

2. Trying to join eHarmony, but it won't have me. I joined it two or three years ago, searching from Orlando for someone up here. Then I canceled my account. Well, you just try rejoining with the same e-mail address you used back then.

First, "There is already an account with that e-mail address." OK. Fine. Let's start 'er up again, you.

Then "This account has been canceled." Like an online dating site hall of mirrors, back and forth. Fine. I e-mail them. Reply:

We’re so excited to hear that you’d like to
return to eHarmony. To have your account re-opened
promptly, please call our Customer Care department at
[---] at your earliest convenience. We’re available
7 days a week, 24 hours a day.

We look forward to helping you find the love of
your life.

Mm-hmm, don't let that be what gets you out of bed in the morning, "Andy D." Can you see how hard he tried to not use exclamation marks?

So I called last night. Call volume so high! Please try again later! Too many people finding love! Or maybe not enough! JUST TRY TO GET US TO TELL!

Twice thwarted in just a few days. If I were Marcello in "Under the Tuscan Sun," I'd say it was a sign not to join. Do you concur?

Tonight: Grocery shopping, freelance, etc. See you later.

I don't want a new version of Blogger

2007-01-29T19:19:00.000-05:00

It's NOT easy to switch. If it were "easy," I wouldn't have to do ANYTHING. I don't WANT A GOOGLE ACCOUNT.

*sigh*

Anybody else with OS Tiger forever hitting the F13 key and bringing up your calendar and calculator and other things when you mean to hit "delete"? Yeah. Good times. We're brothers now.

Anyway.

Yeah so I haven't posted in a while. I have had ideas, but not the inclination to flesh them out. Here's one:
It's an amazing day when you realize you don't have to meet anyone's expectations, not even your own. (Except to, you know, keep your job, not land in jail, have shelter, things like that.) Realizing you really are in charge of your life. It takes a long time for that to really sink in. Like years.

* * *

Today I feel kinda down, at least since leaving work. Not sure why. Maybe just postmenstrual. Maybe because I didn't want to do freelance, but it seems to be coming my way. Maybe tired of the same old same old. Go home, exercise, feed the cats, do work, give butter and medicine, clean litter boxes, have half an hour to "enjoy" before going to bed. Alternate the first two segments with "go grocery shopping." Blech. Maybe I'm worried about what to do if Otter is still on medicine when I go to Florida. Maybe worn down by the fact that he's up to peeing on the floor once or twice a day again, when something had him down to once a week after the Christmas party. Also, my apartment is COLD and I just want it to be safe and warm and cheaper and I probably won't find another one and will have to stay in this bank-account drain for another year. But I do love my backyard. Rock and a hard place, party of one. (Or six.)

Maybe looking at skirted tankinis, knowing I'll probably never be able to go back to regular swimsuit bottoms again. But I did find out I weigh less than Tyra Banks! Howsabout THAT!

Maybe the well-settled-in feeling that I will never find true love or near-true love or reasonably undeceitful love or please don't bother telling me "You will! It will happen! He's out there!" because I just don't want to hear it anymore. I don't know how to be anything but alone, and that's all there is. I don't feel like going out and joining things because I'm SICK AS HELL OF DOING IT ALONE and that's all there is to it.

Everyone is having babies and buying houses and getting cats and dogs and it's one of them new-beginning cycle times that I will just get to watch pass me by again. And I am OK with that, as far as it goes. New beginnings can come from sad endings.

But right now, being alone feels like it's just wearing me down into a flatness. I'll probably be all right tomorrow, but right now I'm going to let it all out and not care who hears me.

So here's hoping Salem doesn't have a concussion from when he leapt up onto the counter smack into the stack of cat dinner dishes in my hand. Y'all have a good night.

Best diet ever!

2007-01-08T20:43:00.000-05:00

Eat only things you hate.

55 degrees and so very, very wrong

2007-01-05T11:57:00.000-05:00

This has been a freakish winter so far. Some surface waffle of my brain, the one too tuned in to what the masses think, sometimes sends a flimsy "You ought to enjoy it while it lasts!" warble floating through the brainosphere. And the part of me trying to be more positive pipes up with a mild "Aye!" But most of me just feels weird about it, feels the innate and inordinate otherliness and deep wrongness of this winter weather.

It might hit 60 tomorrow.

Most people point to global warning. Some say it's just a blip on the grand meteorological landscape and el nino is nothing to get your panties in a bunch about. But this is the second mild winter in a row, and the second one that the Farmer's Almanac had predicted to be unusually cold. And that Ben Franklin is NEVER wrong.

If a regular old coldness and beslumbering blanket of snow doesn't come along soon, grapes, apples and other crops may start to come in early, throwing growing cycles off for years. Sap is already running, and the bees are out. The bees, people! The bees!

But back to me. I am glad for the low use of my heater, but that's about it. If you pay attention, you can feel it in the air: Everyone knows, on an unconscious, primal level, that this is deeply wrong. There is a mild disturbedness oscillating through the air. You can feel the buzz rising off people, swirling around in a mass interrobang: the subtle, subliminal "wtf?!"

Is It Weird?

2007-01-04T18:26:00.000-05:00

We existed for millions of years. A few short decades ago, someone invented the computer. Now there are millions of techies out there super-adept at programming them, coding Web stuff, etc.

For millions of years we existed without them. But there was this part of our brain that was ready for them, maybe wiring itself throughout the millennia. Ready.

What else is lurking up there?

Besides pie recipes and patterns for monkey pants, I mean.

(How about the ability to be happy with ourselves as we are? Ha.)

Cat Monkey Pie Ninja HOBO

sigh.

This is how it goes

... Rheta having written this, see

Rheta started this.

Why, it's an Otter!

Why hello there

Seneca had a stone camel too.

Your UB update

The best sentence I've heard all day

My shoes are too small.

Why didn't I shoot my foot and stay in Honolulu.

'Struth

Yo.

And here I am.

Oh there you are.

One more thing, Nation

Paul! We can go into business together, leave the university world behind!

Quandries

*grumble*

BABY PORCUPINE! BANANA! HICCUPS!

UPDATE

When I tell the story, it will be His Holiness with the hammer.

The latest

Bionic thoughts

let's catch up, you

This makes me so happy

This is the very reason I got my wee camera

SEVEN!!

Look what Elly found

Road trip to Salem!

Eat that, nation!

Fin

part deux

Shoals recap, part un

This weekend I went away and didn't tell you

Gooier than you

CHECK

CAN I WEIGH THAT LEMON FOR YOU MS. MCDONNELL

The things you learn

10:46 p.m.

The latent superpowers of your late 30s

The POLICE!

The Police?

Oh, did you mean the emptiness inside my heart?

OK then.

GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING SHIT FUCKING HELL

My cats are awesome

Stellar sea cow

OW!

Somebody slap Jerry Bruckheimer

"Tere MonkeyPantaloons!"

I ordered tuna

eldritch:

That's better.

#@^&($)#*(

If I were a billionaire

Proof of God

Soothsayer

Life has been empty, I know,

Like Hubba Bubba.

To sleep, perchance to get a migraine and watch M*A*S*H all night long

I have no idea why I wrote this a coupla weeks ago.

But I am NOT wearing a swimsuit yet.

what chocolate can do of a Thursday night

He's even been known to drag one away

My apartment smells like beans

The trajectory of smell

Pity the slinker

[breathe]

More hobo names for your consideration

Sorry to bring you down, but I was thinking

like fairies or sumthin.

Yellow AND WHITE

Weirdness is afoot

Holy running water, Batman

(Besides direwolves)

Days With Elly

The glaring sky

1,000 Kinds of Awesome

grumble

To sleep, perchance to get a migraine and watch MAS*H all night long

set on PORTRAIT