On not killing Mary

I have recently discovered that it is excruciatingly hard to kill off one’s own characters.  I started writing short fiction stories recently, and one of them took off quite well.  That is, until it came time to kill off the main character.  I haven’t written a thing on any of my stories since I reached that point.  I can hardly bear to think about it even.  It’s almost like she’s a person.  A dear friend even.  To write her death… it seems almost cruel.  I brought her to life.  I gave birth to her.  How can I kill my own child.

It’s crazy, because I know intimately the details of her death.  I researched the plausibility of the whole thing and plotted it out in my head.  Even so, I loath to put the words to paper (or screen, be it as it may), because I will have killed her.  I hate killing.  Even when it’s necessary. 

Hopefully, in writing this, I will be able to get past this silly block and finish the story.  However, I’m uncertain that I will be able to forgive myself for killing my own child.  Perhaps, it will become easier with time. 

Today at work I put tape on my knuckles to disguise my knuckle wrinkles.

My Commercial Christmas: The Saga Continues

Boxing Day is traditionally celebrated as a day of giving money/food/donating time to the needy.  It is currently celebrated in the commercial era, by the big chain stores putting all their Christmas items on super sale.  I celebrated boxing day by getting nearly all of next year’s Christmas presents for less than I spent on all of my Christmas presents this year (The above picture does not to the pile justice.).  The only problem I foresee with this is the storage of all the items until next year.  However, since I still live at home, it shouldn’t be much of an issue.  That is, after I get all of the bags and boxes out of my bedroom. 

(As a side note, I just found an app that turns my ipod touch into a wireless mouse/keyboard/controller for my computer  it’s kind of extra awesome.)

We also celebrated Commercial Christmas with my older brothers and sisters and their families today.  It was extra tiring, and I was mostly just happy to see them leave.  There are some people that less is more, and I hate saying that about my family, but when they are all together it is chaos.  Not in a good way.  However, it consoled myself by remembering that I already have their presents for next year, so there will be no stressing over getting their stuff done before they get here.  That is exciting.

Maybe next Christmas, I will celebrate in a more traditional manner to try that out, but I did enjoy my Commercial Christmas this year.

Now, my holidays are over and I’d better get to bed.  I’m already going to be a zombie at work tomorrow. 

My Commercial Christmas

It is Christmas.  In my family, Christmas traditionally means we open lots of presents that we don’t need and play with them all day.  It’s great.  Santa still brings the presents.  We’re all well old enough to have known for years that “Santa” is actually our parents, but it’s still fun to keep up the act.  I think “Santa” enjoys it more that we ever have.  It’s kind of interesting that we keep up the act to humor our parents instead of the other way around.

This year, “Santa” gave me loads of presents that I didn’t really need, and some others (like my toolbox and rubber boots) that I really did need (my old rubber boots are totally rubbish and have holes in them).  I took the R/C truck I got outside for a drive earlier this evening, and the car lasted longer than I did.  It’s so cold out, my fingers froze and I couldn’t feel them anymore.  I’m not sure when I’ll get my Aerogarden out to use it. 

I’m afraid my stupid cat will try to eat the plants unless I can find a place to put it that he won’t mess with it.  He doesn’t mess with my other plants, but there are some that I have had that he knocked off the shelves.  However, it would be awesome to have fresh herbs and veggies in the middle of winter.  I’ll have to figure out how I can rig it up in my closet. It would be kind of awesome to have a vegetable garden in my closet. 

I also must start watching more Alias.  “Santa” brought me the second and third seasons.  Watch out, twitter, I’m sure there will be ever more running involved.  And we all know that is my favorite part. 

Also, the Zhu Zhu pet “hamster ball” thing that I got (yes, I have a zhu zhu pet. no, you may not judge me.) does not work with my stupid hamster.  I’m gonna use one of the gift cards I got to buy a different one to see if it works better.  I know, I know, I do not need anymore worthless junk.  But, OMG, I love it.  Love. 

Anyway, along with getting my own stuff from “Santa” for Christmas, I got “Santa” presents they didn’t need, but that they loved.  I think everyone loved the gifts I gave them, and that was all that mattered to me, really.  This year I managed to get everyone something that they all especially wanted.  I felt like “Santa”. I’m pretty sure I know why “Santa” keeps getting us all loads of presents every year.  It’s pretty damn fun.

Anyway, with that in mind, I’ll send you off to bed.  Hope your Christmas was wonderful, and that you got loads of stuff you didn’t need.  I know I did. 

Don't look right now! You'll die of cute overload.

Some questions aren’t meant to be asked.

The difference between me and someone who grew up in the city is that when posed with the question, “If you were stranded in the wilderness with only a knife would you kill a deer or hog by slitting their throat or stabbing them in the guts?” I realize that is a ridiculous question.

It is wrong on so many levels.  First of all, if I were stranded in the wilderness I probably wouldn’t try to kill a deer or a hog.  I would try to catch rabbits or fish.  Secondly, there is no way that you could kill a hog with only a knife without killing or at least seriously wounding yourself in the process.  And third, a deer would just run away from you if you tried to sneak up on it with a knife. 

When the unsuspecting city boy posed the question to me today, I laughed at him.  He seemed hurt, like I had just killed his dog or something.  And he pestered me to answer it.  I went into great detail about how I would attempt to kill both animals (which involved fashioning a spear and or a bow and arrow), and explained that I’d probably not try to kill either of those animals, but would stick to small game instead. 

He gave me the most baffled look.

I realized then that he’d wanted to know if I’d kill it quickly or let it suffer, which is an entirely different question.  And one that he hadn’t asked at all (Had I been thinking, I would have given the easy answer.  That way I wouldn’t have come off looking like Bear Grylls.  Hopefully, I look a bit more feminine than that.)  

The idea of my Scotsman friend stuck in the wilderness with only a knife trying to catch a deer strikes me as hilarious.  I hope he never gets stuck somewhere.  He’d not last long.

Book Review: Magic Kingdom for Sale - Sold! by Terry Brooks

I've been thinking lately about doing thus thing where when I complete a book, I write a short review of it. It's been one of those ideas that I think about often, but then never seem to implement when the time comes to actually do it. I know I've probably finished a small library of books since I hatched this plan in the back of my mind.

Behold! The first ever book review to exist outside of my head since the idea burst forth from my brain many moons ago. However, you must bear with me as my inner literary critic is a bit on the rusty side seeing as he's been on vacation since I graduated. I don't think that will be much of an issue; and nay even be cause for celebration. I always have likes a good party. Okay, I know... That was a lie. But anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

I bought Magic Kingdom for Sale -Sold! by Terry Brooks (which shall henceforward be referred to as Magic Kingdom since typing on a tiny screen with only thumbs shall be made as simple as possible) when I first got the Kindle app for my first iPod touch. If I remember correctly, I thought Magic Kingdom was a free offering from the Kindle store and was subsequently bummed when I realized I had actually spent money on it.

It's possible that is why it took me so long to finish reading it. I say that because having just finished the tale of Ben Holiday and his Magic Kingdom, I realized that it had been thoroughly entertaining. In fact, I wish I would have read it as a child rather than waiting until I got too jaded about money to enjoy a good story.

It is a highly implausible story (At least inflation has increased at least tenfold since it was written because Ben Holiday purchased a whole magic kingdom for the paltry sum of one million dollars. There is no way that would be a viable amount now since there are buildings that sell for much more than that.), but being implausible tends to make it all the more fun to read. Who wouldn't want to buy a magic kingdom and be a king or a queen? I know I would. I only hope the kingdom I end up with has such colorful characters in it. And I hope the dragons are nicer.

If you get a chance to read this book. I would recommend it. Even if it means you have to pay money for it and take three years to read it.

It is a lovely story.

Now, hopefully, you enjoyed my review and are looking forward to hearing about the next book I finish reading. I know I'm looking forward to finishing it.

Love and books.

Sent from my iPod, Astronaut.

Do you remember...

Going to roller skating parties in Jr. High?  I am almost positive that everyone experienced a Jr. High roller rink party. I had been living under the assumption that with the digital age roller rink parties had become a thing of the past. Something that my younger sister would never experience. 

However, I found myself proven wrong in that assumption this evening as I found myself participating in something I hadn't even thought about in years. The Jr. High roller rink birthday party. 

While I might have been the oldest person there by at least ten years, I had a blast. I skated. I hung out with my sister and her friends. And I realized my hopes of becoming a roller derby girl are probably a little fanciful. Especially since I had a hard time just standing on the skates. That's not to say I didn't pretend that the rink with it's columns and lumps and Christmas lights wasn't a roller derby track. You'd better believe I did. 

Aside from my daydreaming, I'm glad my little sister could participate in that old tradition, and I'm glad she's not too cool to keep me from sharing it. 

Sent from my iPod, Astronaut.

A Conversation with my 14 Year-old Sister

I can't believe she said that. Apparently, I haven't taught her well.

"Hey, did you know that guy was a writer?"

"Edgar Allen Poe?"

"Yeah, I learned that yesterday!"

"What did you think he was?"

"An explorer."

The girls he does please…

I researched this song today.  I used to sing it as a kid, and couldn’t remember it exactly.  I still love it.

It's not darkest before dawn.

I get the idea behind this saying, but I don't understand why it ever caught on as a saying. Haven't you seen the sun rise? The dawn. It's not black and then all of the sudden the sun magically bursts forth with no warning. That is not how the dawn works. As the sun gets closer and closer to the horizon, the sky gets brighter and brighter. Then the sky continues to lighten as the sun slides over the horizon.

This makes sense, yes?  The darkest part of the night is when the sun is nowhere near the horizon.

The phrase doesn’t make sense as a inspirational message either.  It is not accurate.  It implies that when things are bad, they will be Really bad, and then they will magically get better.  That does not work in exactly the same way that the literal meaning of the sentence does not work.  Things do not get better overnight, or in a split second, or in the time it takes the sun to rise.  It takes time.  Things get better.  They do.  But it happens gradually.  Like the dawn. 

So from now on, please, do me a favor.  Do not try to be helpful, and use the phrase, “It’s darkest before the dawn.”  It’s not helpful.  It doesn’t make sense.  And it doesn’t actually help anything.  You can’t make anything better by saying a phrase.  You just gotta be there.  That makes things better, gradually, like the sunrise.

The elusive memories of my childhood…

Isn’t it weird how some memories are so incredibly vivid in your head that you would never in the world forget them, and other things get completely forgotten?  I don’t understand how or the mind works like that, but I do know that there is probably a lifetime’s worth of things that I’ve forgotten and will never remember again.  But then sometimes when you are talking to people, their memories of how things were jog your memories and you end up thinking of things that you’d thought you’d forgotten.  I don’t know how that fits into the whole scheme of things.  Does it mean that the things that we forget aren’t really lost forever?  They are just filed away somewhere that needs a password to open.

There is one specific memory I have of my childhood.  It’s vivid.  I don’t understand why I remember this specific event.  It doesn’t seem like it would have been important in the grand scheme of my life, but I remember it as vividly as any of my memories. 

We ran over a baby cow.  Believe me, it’s not nearly as gruesome as it sounds.  I think I was maybe a first or second grader, and we were out checking the cows.  (Remember, I grew up on a working farm.  I did things like that when I was a kid.)  Checking the cows consisted of taking the truck out to make sure all of the cows were okay.  It was springtime, so we had to make sure all the babies lived, and we had to check on the pregnant cows to make sure that everything was fine. 

The truck was an old brown Dodge; I’m not sure where we got it, but I do know that it was old and brown.  It had a camper shell on it, and I liked to ride back in the bed.  I couldn’t talk to my parents because the camper shell made the bed into it’s own private chamber.  It was kind of like a moving fort.  I loved it.  Well, this one particular day, I rode in the back, and I was peering out the back of the camper as we drove along in the pasture looking for cows, when a baby cow appeared under the truck all curled up in a little ball.  It never moved as we passed over it.  Those mother cow tells the calf where to stay until she comes back for them, and they don’t move until she comes back.  Animals are pretty smart.  But anyway, since I was in the back of the truck, I couldn’t tell my parents what had happened.

When we got back home, I overheard my parents talking about how they wondered where that mama cow had her baby hidden, because she’d been pregnant the last time they’d been out checking the cows, and she wasn’t this time.  I yelled, “I SAW THE CALF! WE DROVE OVER IT!”  They didn’t believe me.  But I kept insisting that we’d driven over it, so dad took me back up to the pasture, and I showed him where I saw the calf.  Believe it or not, the calf was still curled up in the same place I saw it the first time.  The tire tracks ran on both sides of it.  Dad believed me then.

I still don’t understand why I remember that particular event.  It must have been important in its way.  I still think about that calf sometimes.  I guess it was kind of a miracle that we didn’t actually hit it with the truck.  If dad had driven a foot one way or the other, the cow would have been a pancake. 

I wonder how many baby calves turn into pancakes because they just do what their parents tell them?

WTF

Getting up at 8:30 a.m., then going to bed at 9:30 p.m., only to get up two hours later at 11:30 p.m. to go shopping until 2 p.m. the next day, then sleeping for two hours until 4:30 p.m. to get up to go to a Christmas Parade then staying up again until 11:30 p.m. really fucks with your brain. 

I’m sure I’m going to be able to sleep this evening, but I’m not feeling like I’m needing to sleep at all even though I’ve only had a total of 4 hours of sleep in the last day and a half.  Go figure.

I wish they wouldn’t have started Black Friday at 12:01 a.m., because it really fucked with my life.  I feel like I’m living in a surrealist world wherein I get to buy loads of cool stuff for cheap but the not sleeping is torture. 

Frustrating…

For some stupid reason, my fucking computer is acting retarded.  Yes, I realize that computers cannot reproduce, nor act in any way, but it’s hella frustrating to want to do a simple task and not be able to because the computer and internet won’t cooperate. 

I have come to grips with the fact that because I live in the middle of freaking nowhere I have to deal with satellite internet that is unreliable and slow.  But I’ve not come to grips with the fact that it’s so slow that my documents on Google docs won’t even load right so that I can edit them. 

I mean, all I really wanted to do today was work on a short story about a tightrope walker from back in the day.  I was planning on killing her off today.  Gory and bloody are only two words to describe what I had had planned for her demise.  But since I spent the last 20 minutes trying to make the fucking internet work, not only am I too frustrated to even begin writing anything fun like that, but also I am still unable to open that stupid fucking document.

I take it back.  I just checked it and in the time it took me to write this it finally decided to load the fucking page.  Now I don’t even want to kill my fucking character.  It’s really quite annoying. 

I want for it to be summer again.

I want to go back in time.

I want to live somewhere that the fucking internet works like it should.

And I want to find everything I ever wanted from life at the grocery store so that I could just buy it and be happy instead of sitting here angry and frustrated and annoyed. 

I’m actually not all that frustrated anymore.  But I still wanted to get all of that out there. 

I’m not going to write about my tightrope walker though.  She’ll still be there tomorrow.  I bet what I write then will be especially gory and bloody.  She deserves to go down interestingly.

Now, I shall go to nap before shopping this evening.  We’re pulling a freaking all-nighter.  It’s going to be awesome.

Thanks for listening. 

Love and Happy Thanksgiving!

I had an idea once…

The funny thing about ideas is that once you have one they tend to multiply… in a manner similar to bunnies.  I had this idea a few days ago, that if I gave myself a vague list to follow every day, I would be able to be productive.  The idea being that if I became productive again, I would stop being quite so depressed and maybe do something with my life. 

My daily list is a follows:

As you can see, they are vague enough tasks that I can easily complete them, but I’ve found that simply the act of doing something leads to other things.  For example, since I’ve been writing every day, I have had all kinds of crazy ideas for things to write, and it’s enjoyable, and I don’t just zone out in front of the television all evening and hate myself. 

Getting up early hasn’t really led to anything new.  It’s more of wishful thinking.  Also, it’s not really all that early.  I count that one a win if I get up 5 minutes before I usually do at 6:45.  I figure that eventually I can extend it and maybe make a morning person out of me.  Like I said, wishful thinking.  Ha. 

Anyway, so far I’m doing pretty good.  I’ve made myself a line graph on my calendar.  I get to make a line for every task I complete.  I’ve almost made it a week. 

I fell off my balance board today and onto my ass in the middle of the basement today.  Excitement, I tell you.  What could be better?

P.S. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving.  Eat a turkey. 

Just trying things out… Move along.

The list grows longer every day.

I didn’t take a camera with me to #DDstl…

…and I’m glad I didn’t because these are better than mine, and I didn’t have to worry with taking any pictures or video.  I am still waiting for footage of the Jeep Song to surface.  I was certain it would…

via ishootshows.com.

 

Tomorrow, I go back to reality.

Before I go, things need to be said, or they will never get said.  If they never are said, they will be forgotten, and that would be a shame.  A friend and I took ourselves to St. Louis for the Dresden Dolls concert on Tuesday at the Pageant Theatre.  I have been a fan of the Dresden Dolls from the moment I heard them.  Their music struck a chord with me, and it has never grown old in all the years that I followed their careers.  They saw me through the thick and the thin, and theirs wasn’t the kind of music you run from after your girlfriend breaks up with you or your dog dies because there are too many bad associations.  It’s real.  I was passionate once.  I drove 10 hours to see Amanda play in Minneapolis last June because it was the first time she’d been so close. 

Sometime between then and now, I lost my passion.  For anything.  For everything.  I didn’t really care that I was even going to see the Dolls play.  I wasn’t excited.  It felt wrong, but I could do nothing about it.  Apathy doesn’t lend itself to passion, and I felt empty.

This next part is tricky to write about.

The concert was magic.  The Dresden Dolls are magic.  From the moment they stepped out onto the stage, I could feel myself wake up, and emerge from the daze that I’d been living it.  Their music had always been therapeutic for me, but this was more than that.  Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I could see how much they love their music, how much passion goes into it to produce their craft, maybe it was because of the experience of the music with all of my senses, but whatever it was, I felt whole again.  I needed that. 

After the first few songs, we moved from the balcony where we had been sitting to a place in the back of the hall where I had a better view.  We stood there for well over an hour and watched Amanda and Brian make magic.  I soaked it all in.  Anyone who has ever seen them play live, I’m sure will tell you the same thing.  The way they play off one another, engage the crowd, and get into the music is awe-inspiring.  It’s amazing. 

I could have stood their all night.

Eventually, after the dreaded encore procedure, the show ended.  Amanda and Brian left the stage to do the things they do after the show, and we left to find some place to crash for the night, but the night never really ended.  I feel whole again.  I took back my passion,and now hold it dear, because I’m a zombie without it.

If you’ve never seen the Dresden Dolls perform live.  Do it.  I promise you, it will be like nothing you’ve ever seen before.  I wish I could thank them in person, but this will have to do. 

Thank you, Amanda and Brian.  You are something amazing.

The only photo I took of the show. I took it purely to prove I went.

It was amazing.

This is what I failed to mention the last time.

Did I mention this?

Sent from my iPod, Astronaut.

No words necessary

If I were a stoner…

Skelly o’Lantern

The original idea for my skelly o’lantern.  I drew it on my iPod, believe it or not.  It’s amazingly close to the finished product.  I’m especially pleased with myself.

Happy Halloween!

A case of insomnia on repeat...

At least once a week, I find myself in bed ready to peacefully drift away to that magical land of slumber only to find myself wide awake.  Generally, I toss and turn and hope desperately that my mind will shut off so maybe, just maybe, I will be able to finally fall asleep.  Because that is the basis for my insomnia, my brain tends to go into overdrive, or perhaps because I cannot sleep, my mind becomes restless.  Whatever the reason, it always tends to be highly annoying, and it's almost exclusively on nights I have to work the next day.  I still haven't got a hang of keeping respectable hours.  I faithfully go to bed early every night; however, it seems on some nights, my body betrays me.  

Most nights I can't sleep I end up caving, and take a light sleeping pill.  I hate doing that.  I do my best work at night, but being I'm hampered by my day job, I try to sleep as much as possible.  For once, I don't have to get up in the morning.  Of course I did have big plans of getting up early and getting some projects finished tomorrow.  I foresee those plans being scrapped in favor of sleeping in.  I do enjoy sleeping in.  In all honestly, those plans would have most likely been scrapped for sleeping in anyway, but this not being able to sleep at least gives me some kind of good excuse.  

On those nights that I am able to sleep, I tend to have nightmares.  I'm not sure which is worse, nightmares or insomnia.  I suppose the nightmares, but both are physically and emotionally trying.  The nightmares are of the worst kind.  Are you familiar with the dreams in which you are falling, and then suddenly right as you would hit the ground and be smashed into smithereens you wake up in a cold sweat and wanting to scream?  I'm sure you are.  I'm almost positive everyone has had a dream of a similar nature. I tend to have many of this variety; however, in place of falling, they usually involve some sort of car either smashing me into smithereens, or me in a car smashing someone else into smithereens.  I don't have to be any kind of dream reader to find the meaning in these dreams, only I am surprised it's taken me this long to start having them as repeatedly as I do.  Although, it may have something to do with the fact that it's officially been 4 years and just about 4 hours since I had that particular accident.  If you're not familiar with to what I'm referring, I'm sure you can imagine.  Use that head for something other than hitting the wall...

Anyway, I do believe that I digress...  The problem with my current state is that my insomniac mind tends to go in tangents, and I quickly forget what I was thinking about just moments before.  I believe that could be part of why I have the problem with the falling asleep.  I cannot still my mind for any reason.  At one moment, I'm thinking about how I'm not getting what I want in all aspects of my life, and the next I'm thinking about the blog entry that I want to write but never will because I don't do that anymore.  Don't do what?  Write much at all.  Especially not blog entries.  Why don't I write blog entries?  Don't have time.  Why don't I have time?  Because I'm lame and I watch the telly all evening because I can't bring myself to be productive.  I'd rather do nothing than have to deal with the idea of trying to figure out what I want to do, even in the next instant.  I just can't be bothered... Do you see how this kind of mindset is deterrent to sleep?  Eventually, the line of reasoning gets to the part where I decide I'm totally and utterly depressed.  The problem with being depressed, however, is that it's easy to be depressed, but definitely hard to stop being it.  

This is a problem.  Are we beginning to understand?  I don't know how I can make myself more clear.  I'm not even sure what I'm trying to communicate.  I suppose I'm hoping that by putting all of this out there, maybe the world will turn off this repetition.  I've tried.  I'm trying. I want it too stop.  I'm asking nicely here.  With that, I believe I'm going to bring this entry to a close.  I hope you do not at all expect me to write any more entries in the near future.  I'm much too apathetic to make any promises, but I will say that I would like to write more, and I will try, but I'm not giving any guarantees.  

Now I'm off to dreamland... hopefully.

Happiness

Wherein I have a stern talk with Mother Nature…

Dearest Mother Nature,

I don’t know what has gotten into you recently, but why are you breaking my heart?  You give me perfect skating weather for a whole week, then, BAM!, hot again.  WTF?  And not only do you gotta be hotter than the freaking Sahara Desert, but you also have to have an affair with Mr. Thunderstorm.  Now, Mother Nature, I don’t know if you know anything about skating, but I will tell you that Hot is not good, because I don’t enjoy coming back from my lunch break all smelly, and Wet bodes ill for my board… Not to mention I’d personally rather be dry. 

Now, Mother Nature, I have company coming to skate with me tomorrow, so you’d better straighten up your act so that we will have a nice day for skating.  If you don’t, believe me, you will never hear the end of it.  I may well consider disowning you.

In conclusion, I do not like deserts and I do not like your affairs with Master Thunderstorm.  If you would like to avoid my wrath, I suggest you shape up.  Do you hear me?

Sincerely,

Notthegrrl

Perspective

FADE IN

INT. FRONT DESK OF VETERINARY CLINIC

Two American women sit behind the desk conversing as a Scotsman, who has lived in American for seven years, enters from back and asks a question to neither woman in particular, but also to both at the same time.

SCOTSMAN

Do you have a penny with Abraham Lincoln on it?

Neither woman pays heed to the words from the Scotsman, until abruptly one of the women looks up queerly at him.

WOMAN #1

All pennies have Abraham Lincoln on them.

SCOTSMAN

Oh.  I thought I’d have a hard time finding one.

The women look at each other than back to the Scotsman in disbelief.

The End

Omg… cute attack!

Just looking at old pics, and found this one of Trooper after he had just learned how to get up.  If he isn’t the cutest thing you have ever seen then you don’t know what cute is.  Srsly. 

Odds ‘n’ ends…

Typically, I take pictures on my little phone camera on a fairly daily basis.  Almost everyday, I suppose is what I was trying to say.  Said pictures tend to stay stuck forever on my phone memory card, so I thought that I would have a little show and tell today.  Hopefully, no one minds. 

This first picture is of a gross locust I found today on a stump in the yard.  I haven’t seen many of these things actually alive.  Normally, you just see their skins after they have molted.  He’s kind of cute. 

Yesterday, I repotted my pineapple plant into the big brown container.  It’s grown a ton this summer because of all the humidity.  It’s turned into quite a rainforest around these parts.  The pineapples are going crazy.  I’m crossing my fingers that I will eventually get to harvest a pineapple.  It’s been years since I planted these two.

Of course, my baby had to help me take pictures of the plants.  She pretty much insists on helping me do everything.  I don’t think you can tell in this picture, but we had to amputate one of her toenails the other day, so she’s been limping around a lot.  That doesn’t stop her from following me around. 

The only reason I repotted my pineapple was because I bought this hella huge pot for my darling little rubber tree.  I’m hoping that eventually he will grow to fit the new digs. 

Have you ever noticed that there is a sad face on every Swingline stapler you ever will see?  Why do they have to be so sad?

This is my happy little Trooper’s new pen.  We built it for him last weekend, and he is like a real dog now.  You would hardly realize that he has major brain damage if you didn’t know it.  Unlike when he lived in the tiny old pen.  He love is new home. 

Last, but not least, my dad brought these chips home the other day.  They are apparently the Texas version of Old English chips.  I’m going to hazard that there is something lost in translation.  But that’s only a guess.

I know, I know, random… It’s the name of the game.

Some like it hot…

Imagine a hot, humid summer day, you’re well into the fourth hour of horseback riding and at least a mile, maybe two, from the barn.  Your knees are starting to ache because you don’t actually ride as much as you should, and the sun and humidity are making your sweat run freely into your eyes and down your face.  You’re almost willing to admit that horseback riding in the summer is a miserable experience and would give anything to be able to cool off because it’s just so damned hot.  Suddenly, off to your left, you hear a strange sound. 

It’s not until you feel the rain pouring down over your head that you realize that the sound you heard was a torrential downpour falling on the leaves as it made its way to the ground.  You also realize at that moment that there is no way you can make it home or even to some kind of shelter without getting completely and utterly drenched, so you shove your cell phone down your boot, hope that will keep it dry, and start the ride home.  At least, you’re not hot anymore.

P.S. The cell phone did survive, and the dogs were as miserable as I was when I got home.  Scruffy decided to take refuge in the herb garden, and he looked so pathetic that we just let him.

For those of you keeping score…

I just had a “Doh!” moment when I realized that I didn’t even need the files I “misplaced” because, duh, they are on the internet. 

Scarlett Johansson shouldn’t quit her day job

I have misplaced all the files from when I made my website, oh so many, years ago.  I have checked all of the files on my computer, but I think my younger self for some clever reason saved those files to a thumb drive of some sort.  Not sure if it’s the one I later wiped in order to install linux on my baby computer, or maybe one I don’t even have any longer… I’m holding out hope that said files were on the drive that got wiped, since those got backed up on my parents computer.  I have their computer, oh so much, more organized than my poor little Ampersand.  Imagine that. 

Anyway, the website is sadly out of date, and while I do have plans to scrap the whole thing and start all over again, it would be, oh so much, easier if I could quickly update it as is, and work on the new site at my leisure.  Who knows when the new site will get finished.  God forbid, I have any time to think anymore.  According to the calendar hanging on my wall, I’m still living in April.  Unfortunately, Father time didn’t get that memo.

But enough about lost files and lost time, lets discuss found music, and vacations past. 

First things first, I love stumbling upon new music through the interwebz.  Amanda Palmer did a cover for the new Steel Train album (which by the way, is a great album, and I highly recommend it.).  I naturally bought said album (because that’s how I roll) and discovered that Scarlett Johansson did a cover as well.  The song kind of sucked, but I always liked Ms. Scarlett, so I took the plunge and downloaded her album of Tom Waits covers (no, it’s not a joke, and how did I not hear about this way back when?).  It leaves very much to be desired.  I’m sorry, Scarlett, but I think you should stick with acting.  Singing… well, singing just isn’t your thing. 

On a happy note, the same day the Steel Train album came in the mail, so the new Zoe Keating album did as well.  Into the Trees, it is called, and amazing, it is.  Listen to it after you hurt your ears listening to Ms. Scarlett. 

Lastly, if anyone wants to buy me this necklace, I would not object, and would gladly accept it. 

Before I forget, the photo is of Trooper.  He thought that the swimming pool was his dog house, and curled up under it for a nap.  It was pretty adorable. 

Encore! Encore! *Bang!* Dead.

At this rate, I may never be finished uploading videos to youtube.  This song was awesome.  It was dead quiet in the theater (possibly because the twins had just killed their tour manager), yet you could hear the twins every breath and note plucked on their ukulele.

Rock love is bliss.

“Have you seen my sister @EvelynEvelyn?” “I have. She lives in Minneapolis.”

Smile for the camera, Evelyn.

Best concert I’ve ever seen.  Hands down.  No questions.

Double the Excitement

I BOUGHT EVELYN EVELYN TICKETS TODAY!!!! 

Yes, the exclamation points and all caps are appropriate.  I am finally going to get to go to an Amanda Palmer concert.  SRSLY. I cannot freaking wait.  You have no idea.  Here’s a preview:

The show’s in Minneapolis which is at least an 8 and a half hour drive, but it’s totally going to be worth it.  I’m such a freaking fangirl.

And speaking of fangirls…

I just saw the new Twilight trailers today.  They look like they are going to be full of beautiful people.  I can’t wait for that either.  June’s going to be an awesome month.

This trailer is my favorite:

June=SRSLY FREAKING AMAZING

Scruffy found a lady friend the other day.

Scruffy went to work with me and found a little girlfriend.  He’s doing better in the relationship business than I am. 

This is a good read if you like things like that.  I do.  That’s really all that matters.

EL FUCKING NIÑO, in which i post no pictures of pirates.

The web artifacts of my doppelganger continually multiply.

She apparently likes cooking (is possibly a chef), and still lives in Brigantine, NJ.  She is also 4 years older than me.  I am still more than slightly put off by her presence. 

The idea of time flying is an effing joke.

It's more along the lines of time just broke the landspeed record on the salt flats of Utah and concurrently broke the record for most sonic booms in a ten second period.

For example, according to my email inbox I started writing this blog post on the fifth of February. It is currently the thirteenth of February. It's almost as if what seemed like weeks going by when I was a child now seem like days, sometimes weeks seem like mere hours. I know this is normal for people my age (because NPR told me so), but that doesn't make it any less annoying. 

I feel like I have more things I'd like to do than time to do them in. I can't wait until time slows again. 

I'm not sure where my life is going from here, quite possibly because isn't even time to think. 

Sent from my iPod, Astronaut.

Sent from my iPod, Astronaut.

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The little plants that could...

Look at the transition from the first picture to the third. I think
it's easy to tell the pictures a part. The first picture was taken on
October 8 and the last today. I cannot believe how much those plants
have grown. It's really amazing. I see them every day, but I would
have never guessed they had grown so much.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

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The Great Blizzard of 2010

Well, kids, I made the stupid statement the other day that "real jobs don't have snow days."  Apparently, Mother Nature took offense and proved me wrong.  I am officially snowed in.  This has never happened in my life, and it is officially as cold as it's ever been since before I was alive. 

I tried taking the four-wheeler out to look at the snow drifts, but I barely got it out of the garage.  The snow was too deep, so instead I took my horse out along with my camera to get some pictures of the drifts. A mile was all I was comfortable traveling.  I didn't want to worry anyone by being out in the frigid air longer than I needed to be.  The other direction from my house dead ends at waist-high snow.  It's officially the most snow I've ever seen.  I have dreams that one day when I'm old and grey I will be able to tell my grandchildren tales of the Great Blizzard. For now, I'm crossing my fingers that the road gets graded tomorrow, so we can get out of the house via transportation that isn't from the Middle Ages. 

These are some of the pictures I took while I was out and about on my horse. 

See and download the full gallery on posterous

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Sometimes I wonder if I got into the wrong field of study...

Today, I read this article about writing fantasy novels, and it got me remembering my childhood dreams of being a writer.  I later read this blog post, and my dreams became more detailed and I started wondering why I don't write.  I always want to write, but I never actually do it.  That seems silly to me.  It's especially silly since I like to write.  All these aspirations of writing, led me to this Google search.  Granted, I made it to that search in a roundabout way. 

Eventually, I began thinking that maybe I should apply to a writer's workshop like Clarion.  I think I would be good at it.  I think first, though, I'll see if I can stick with actually writing for awhile.  Then... Who knows?  Maybe I'll decide that I like it.  Maybe I won't, but at least I will know.  You know?

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The Great Blizzard of 2010

Well, kids, I made the stupid statement the other day that "real jobs don't have snow days."  Apparently, Mother Nature took offense and proved me wrong.  I am officially snowed in.  This has never happened in my life, and it is officially as cold as it's ever been since before I was alive. 

I took my horse out today to take some pictures of the drifts.  For your

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Who could it possibly be?

(502) 968-2020

I've been getting repeated calls from this phone number.  They never leave a message, and I never answer.  I called them back once, and got an automated recording.  It seemed odd, but I ignored it.  That is until today.  They continually call me; at least twice a day.  I looked the number up on Google just now, and it turns out that the number belongs to THV-ThermoView Industries Inc.  A company based out of Louisville, KY. 

I have no idea why they keep calling me.  It's really annoying. 

That's when I decided to take action.  Thanks to Google Voice, I just had to click one measly little button to have all their calls blocked. 

"This number is no longer in service." 

(Post Script: My intent was not actually a Google Voice commercial.  Disregard all likeness to such.)

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