Tag Archives: the fuckery?

Since You Looked At Me.

I’m one week away from Dragon*Con! I’m trying to decide if I want to set up little snippets to be posted during that time, or just let the blog lie fallow in the fields of the internet. There is so much to do in preparation, but I’ve been terribly lazy. The only real effort I’ve made is half a crochet project I meant to do for a friend I’ll be seeing and buying two boxes of hair dye for myself.

Husband has been doing more since he has to get work prepared for it, but that’s really more about making sure the whole place doesn’t fall to bits while we are out of the state. I mean, really, I think they would probably shatter if Husband wasn’t there to protect the brittle pieces and cushion the blows.

Cat is going to be left to the devices of the roomies, which as previously discussed, can be quite harrowing. I’m worried that we’ll come back and she will have gained thirty pounds and developed a taste for marsupial flesh and cow’s milk. Yeah, I know it probably isn’t that bad, but I’m a worrier, and they kind of suck hardcore at following my directions.

I still don’t know if I’m going to costume at any point. My new found allergy to latex has reared enough for me to rethink Zedding up for anything. It sucks, but I’m glad that it happened early enough for me to realize and not get fucked up by the itching and pain. Also, I’m wondering if I would be able to take a Benadryl and ignore it. (According to my research, technically yes, but I could also shift into anaphylactic shock fairly rapidly if exposed enough. fuck.)

In any event, I’m spazzing the fuck out for the joy of being at Dragon*Con. I’m super, duper, crazy excited. I love seeing friends and being around the con so much!

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Sealed Up In A Cave Somewhere.

I have something to confess, I suffer from a dangerous addiction. The effects are debilitating, it causes fights between Husband and myself, and I just can’t seem to stop it. It’s awful, but I seem to fall into it every time it is available to me. It is called Hermits, and I love it as much as I love Cat, which you know means more than it should.

Okay, so Hermits are cookies. Molasses cookies. With walnuts… and raisins. They are addicting as shit. Seriously. And Husband hates them, of course. I’ve always been fond of molasses cookies, but I’m from Georgia, as a rule, molasses cookies weren’t really on the table as a viable option. You can find the cheapies in stores, but they are often so sugared that they rip your throat up.

Husband’s Mom was my first provider, but I’ve since learned how to bake them up myself, and though mine never turn out quite right (always a bit underdone. always.), they are still delicious as hell. The thing is, MIL doesn’t like them, either, so she bakes them under duress because her husband loves them as deeply as I do.

Last night, FIL decided to bake some up to take to his ailing father to help cheer him up, so now there are dozens of them sitting in the kitchen unattended. I keep forgetting they are out there, and then succumbing to temptation all over again. I’ve been able to curb myself to only four in the last four hours, but I’m literally trying to hide right now so that I don’t have the urge to steal them all.

Damn, cookie monster’s got nothing on me right now!


Winter Hols And The Great Mystery.

I’ve been rattling around in my brain for the last few weeks trying to come up with Christmas presents for everyone this year. I’m uber frustrated, because I really want to make things for people, but most of my skill lies in yarn craft, and really, I live in the South East. Most everyone in my acquaintance lives in the South East. Those who don’t? Asia and California.

Not a whole lot of call for yarn crafting there.

Anyhoo, though I’m quite crafty, if I do say so my self, I’m not exactly what I would call ‘creative’. I can follow instructions well enough, I might even be able to develop off of them, but I don’t immediately understand the applications of everything within those directions. Usually, someone somewhere has a brilliant idea, and I help with the follow through.

This is not something I can do with winter holidays pressies. (I’m pagan, half my friends are agnostic, the other half Christian, most of my family is Christian, then there’s my atheist father and friend, who still insist on presents so they don’t feel left out.)

To add insult to injury, my mother-in-law has officially declared that I am no longer allowed to go to her blog because she needs to tell someone about what she is making me for Christmas, even if I am a dirty, dirty Pagan-Heathen. This bothers me because a. Half the recipes I love of hers can be found on her blog, so I don’t have to search through the family books for them, and b. because though I’m not a frequent reader, any time there is family news, you can count on her to have a funny take on it, which she posts to her blog.

Really, I don’t know which is worse, that I’m not allowed to see her blog, or that she’s so obviously got a leg up on winter crafting. Actually, those are probably on par with one another.

I'm thinking of making this for my MIL. Click on the picture for the project page.


Not My Blanket, You Cat!

Cat has decided in the last few weeks that under the blanket is hers, and apparently hers alone. I am not in agreement on this one.

To be honest, I probably wouldn’t mind sharing if she weren’t such a bitch about it, but she’s so mean! She doesn’t like it if I shift my legs, or try to become comfortable in any way. If I do manage to put my legs somewhere she doesn’t want them, she is sure to express her displeasure with claws and teeth.

All that being said, Cat is currently lying between my knees, over my blanket, since I haven’t let her find any way under it today. She’s still almost as bitchy this way as she would be under the damn thing, but there are a few layers of cloth between us to protect me!

She’s been in something of a foul mood lately, and I’m not really certain why. I have a theory that it has something to do with Husband and I being home the last few weeks, but not letting her escape to the outside (i.e. to play with the other cats). We normally would try, but by the time we’ve been getting in, we are so tired we just want to crash. Crashing means having the door closed so Husband can sleep, and having the door closed means that Cat has to be in our room, otherwise she won’t have access to her food, water, or litter. I really don’t want to see how it would end up if we didn’t have her in the room with us.

One of our friends had to borrow our room for a bit for a personal call, and decided he wants to find another place in the house to handle his business for a while because Cat is being so awkward. So sad, but I can’t fix it outside of trying to find out if it is the time in the room that’s bothering her.


Sadly, Off Shift.

I would actually have loved to have been at work tonight, but that was apparently not to be. I’m only sort of okay with not being on shift, but it is the hand I was dealt this week, which is one of our slowest for the year. I’m lucky enough to have had some hours at least.

I also recently started to apply around again. I’m hoping that something will come of it soon, as it is kind of sucky to not have a job that has regular hours. I’m also hoping that with a couple more years experience under my belt now that I’ll have an easier time getting interviews.

Also, I’ve been getting my excited on again. Dragon*Con is coming up so very soon, and I’m all kinds of flailing about it. The guest list looks amazing, my Husband is even getting there. The only problem is that there was a mix up with our reservation with our hotel, so we are having to work to get that figured out as it is technically a holiday weekend, and that kind of bill we cannot afford. I mean, there are people in the area we could crash with, but it is ridiculous to do so when we got that reservation so long ago, and it has been checked since then with no problems.

For them to lose it now is pissing me off. But, the complaint has been filed, and we are just having to slosh through the mess.


For Reasons I Have No Place Understanding.

My home smells like slightly burnt spam. Why? Who the fuck knows. I’m pretty sure it is supposed to be chili, but the smell. Oh, dear god, the smell! What could have caused this? RoomieJ, that’s who. He’s the only one.

In the mean while, I’m trying to sum up my needs for the camping trip of Mo’foing doom that is taking place in the middle of fuck-all July. It is hot. Why am I camping? The world may never know. I still have to cover care and feeding of my cat with another of the Roomies, so that Cat won’t end up fat and lazy before I get home.

(There is a general disagreement in my home over how animals should be treated. Roomie thinks they should be treated as favored guests. I think they are fucking animals, and should retain some knowledge of their instincts and therefore should not be over-fed for their own general well being. It has caused more than a few fights.)

I’ll be amused to see the outcome of it all. In addition to fear that Cat will have a pot-belly when I’m back home, she’s already knocked over some breakable items in my room, and we haven’t even rearranged anything recently. This is especially displeasing to Husband, as the items in question were his. I feel bad for him, but he was the one that told me not to discourage her climbing everywhere.

Now, the big question, should I clean anything, or just let it go til I get home?


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