Monday, April 30, 2012

Bonfire and Venison

Saturday night was an "I'm washing my hair because I don't have anything better to do" kind of night. Lol. So I figured, I've got all this time, I'll spend it making myself uh, pretty. ;)

Oh shut up. I felt prettier, anyway. I felt a lot cleaner after sugar scrubbing my face, doing a body polish (that really got my circulation going!), and scrubbing my feet. I was soft and slick all over when I got out.

Well, not all over, so I did use some sandpaper on some stubborn places on my face.

Close your mouth, I was gentle. Think of it as dermabrasion, and yes, I know what I'm doing. Some places just don't lost dead skin cells like they should so this helps me out. I don't suggest that you try it at home. There is far too high a risk that you will cut yourself. I was just doing a gentle buffing.

So there I was, fresh and clean feeling, and walked into my bedroom to find some texts inviting me to a bonfire. :D. I'm a pyromaniac. Sounds like fun.

When I said I was going fresh faced, I was serious. Hahaha whole fresh layer of skin all over was exposed. I felt clean. I didn't even put my usual makeup on. Just eyeliner and lipstick. Didn't fix my wet hair either. (hours later, it was still wet!) So whoever saw me saw the real me. Poor things. ;).

Had a lot of laughs with friends. :). Got to play with an adorable little girl who remembers me for what I had with me the last time I was there: my iPad, my dog, and the blanket I threw on the ground for us to sit on. Aww I disappointed her this time by having none of those things. So she allowed me to push her on her swing and be chased by her around the yard. We did some pirouettes, too. Despite my state, I did them very well and without falling. I wanted to be a ballerina when I was her age too. :)

I ate some venison too, which I was really afraid of, but only because the other two times I'd had it, the wild taste made me sick. But this really just tasted like beef. I enjoyed it for a change. I am a very picky eater, so that's saying a lot. My compliments to the hunter / chef. ;)

I'd had a pretty bad headache all day, but I did manage to forget it for the hours I was at the bonfire. :D. I did have a lot of fun but it did come with knowing my hormones are tormenting me right now and there ain't a thing I can do about it. Boo.

Garment I worked on this weekend. :)

I'd say it's a sweater, but it can be worn about ten different ways, so it's better to call it a multi-garment. I want to wear it with butterfly sleeves by this weekend, so I guess I'll see how my plan works out.

Tunisian crochet from a class on - my favorite kind of stitching, actually. I've loved the uniformity of it for decades now.

Wow, that makes me sound old, but if you understand that I started when I was six , I could very well be as young as 26. Ok, I'm not, but at least I don't look old. Yeah, that's right. While everybody else was drinking that purple kool aid I was drinking vampire blood. ;)

I was trying to match the colors of the garment without buying silk, so no, those aren't my color selections. They'll work though, you'll see.

It's already given me some ideas for designs of my own.

I also painted t shirts today. One new one and a refresh on my cobblestones shirt that faded due to a poor paint choice.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

YES, I'm a woman

I realize that I've been dressing like a coach at work for a while. There are good reasons for it.

I don't like shopping for clothes. It always disappoints me and usually hurts my feelings that I can afford nice clothes and they never fit well enough to look good on me. (No, I'm not large, but my pelvis was a obviously designed for having lots of babies and that presents a fitting challenge.)

I'm often having to crawl under tables in my classroom, and that room is a dust magnet. Pants are practical.

Besides, I have discovered that I don't like agonizing over wardrobe every single day. Matching tops to bottoms and then shoes... Too much deciding, too much thinking, too much clutter! I like having simple choices to make in clothes.

Not much spectacular clothing to wear around here anyway. I'll admit that my clothing preferences run to something I'd call a bohemian costume. Lol. I like long skirts I can twirl in. Lots of color, but easy to take care of. I guess I was a gypsy in a previous life, but nothing points to family in my genealogy research. I wouldn't mind it. :)

Hmm. If I can ever trace that ONE stubborn branch back to Ireland... The Hensleys are hiding. Have been for 20 years now. I WILL find them.

If it was an easy thing to do, you would see me dressed in fluffy florals all the time, totally feminine. Girly girl. Maybe even girly punk. Lol.

Broomstick skirts have come back, at least locally, and they were always a favorite for me. So last week when I wore skirts to work twice, the response was almost incredulous! Lots of flattering comments, but some people acted absolutely shocked to see me in a skirt.

Okay, this is a worry of mine. I worry that people see me without a boyfriend and they wrongly assume I prefer women. Egad, NO, I'm absolutely straight.

So it's like I rocked several people's assumptions that I'm a lesbian when they saw me dressed all girly. Day-um, people. I only like MEN. Just because I've had such rotten luck with men and I'm therefore very hesitant to even try again, I haven't switched teams. Eww. I don't even understand it, personally.

Nothing at all against gay people. Several very good friends are, you see, and their orientation doesn't have any bearing on our friendship. Not like the straight ones who shun me because I'm single, apparently because they think I want their man.

Again, eww, I'm glad you're happy, but I don't see what you like about your man, because he doesn't appeal to me. Your honey is safe from me, anyway. Always will be.

Another thing about wearing dresses... I detest being cold. I really can't stand it. So if there is a chance of getting cold, I'm not going to bare my legs. :)

Gimme a long, fluffy, swirly skirt and some boots and I'm happy. ;). Oh. Yeah. I guess that should include some kind of blouse, too. Lol. Or else we have a repeat of my dream last night -- running late for my flight because I suddenly realized I was topless in the airport and I had to dig around in my carryon for a hoodie. Lol

Digital Magazine Age

Sitting in Java Cafe listening to Kings of Leon and entertaining thoughts of tormenting the owner. Or just being obnoxious, because I doubt he'd notice. ;). I'm pretty much invisible.

I wish that Digital Scrapbooking Magazine had lived long enough for iPads to come out. I didn't care for how the magazine looked on my laptop but I think this screen would have made a fantastic difference. It was a great magazine and right up my alley.

I do wish that publishers would admit they'd save tons on digital-only subscribers and give us a discount for the printing costs we don't incur for them. I'd buy more digital magazines, if that was the case. I get a little manic about buying magazines I like, and buy every back issue when I discover a new one. Ooookay, so that's a little bit of odd behavior, but I already owned up to being the purple sparkly sheep of the family. Don't get too close or I'll glitter all over you!

I also wish that all of the digital magazines had preview pages. I'd be more likely to buy them if I could be tempted by the inner content. Maybe it's in my favor that the temptation is kept at bay. At least buying digital-only issues slows me down on the physical clutter in my house. Evil plan well accomplished.

I like that there are direct links to advertisers and magazine extras. I don't have to go find a computer and type in addresses to look at that a-tuff. Just tap and go there for instant gratification. Or possibly instant scorn, depending upon the ad and my response of "I'm not gonna buy that!". Sometimes I do find useful links to sites I like though. I can't find interesting new art materials locally, sooo, online it is.

On the downside... Several magazines I bought digitally can only be read on my iPad and not my iPhone. Problem is that I'm not taking my iPad to Europe with me. I need that reading material on my phone. *sigh*.

If I don't have anything to read, I'll be tempted to draw. That could just infuriate me. Especially when some well-meaning person tries to tell me what I'm doing wrong. Why the heck are there still no college-level evening art classes in this area, STILL?

What to do? Screen shot every page on my iPad, arrange the pages into a PDF in my CamScanner Pro app, and save them to Kindle. It's a pain, but I paid enough for those magazines that I should be able to read them in both of my devices.

The big question: if little old me can figure out how to format the magazines for iPhone, why can't they?

Friday, April 27, 2012

Unhappiness Theory

I see so many crowing that you make your own happiness and by golly, they demand theirs, and that is why they will do whatever they want in pursuit of their own happiness, even if it hurts someone else. After all, what they want is important to them and all the little people they step on.

And then they turn and blame their unhappiness on the town they were living in. It's contaminated. Poisonous. Everyone in the town except for them is an a****** or whatever. They, however, are the enlightened one in a town of pathetic losers.


Get that? Own your happiness yet blame anyone but yourself for your unhappiness. Never accept responsibility. Lol

I believe we cause our own unhappiness but nobody wants to admit where they went wrong: greed, laziness, possessiveness, control freakiness, deviance, and lustfulness (that leads a person to feel justified in trying to steal someone else's loved one -- hey, I was going to say sluttiness). All the excuses people make for doing what they know is wrong, so that when it brings a heaping helping of unhappiness squarely upon their heads they can claim it want their fault because they're addicted to... What? Cigarettes? Gambling? Drugs? Sex? Shopping? Eating?

I've got a novel idea for those folks who just "can't help it".

Just stop. Put it down and back away. That goes a long way toward owning your happiness.

Of course, some might require professional help, and a big serving of admitting that they CHOSE to get it started in the first place. Then they have to be willing to sacrifice and suffer to break free of the problem they chose to accept in the first place.

Happiness and unhappiness come from the same place: within us.

When they are out of balance, I've noticed that I can't remember what it was like to truly feel the other. It's like tunnel vision that blocks the memories of happy times when a major depressive episode is in full swing. I've described it before as the feeling of being at the bottom of a well. You have to just have faith that the daylight world is still up there somewhere, though you can't get to it. Trust your memory and hope that the light is still waiting for you.

Yay for you is you have made yourself happy, or even better, if you have made someone else truly happy. But don't forget where unhappiness comes from....

... Inside of you, and inside of me.

I'll be the first one to whine about my own helplessness, of course, when I am blindingly unhappy. I'm no better than anyone else. As the song said, "I am human and I need to be loved. Just like everybody else does.".

Sometimes I really need somebody to give me a hug, yet there is no one to give me that simple hug.

I hate it, but there it is.

Still, I can't use any of that as an excuse to become addicted to anything. Well, maybe sleep, ;) but that's a matter of physiology anyway. Biological self-defense. When the going gets tough, my brain says its mini-coma time.

Thursday, April 26, 2012


Walking thought the store carrying a couple of thick, yard-long dowels and several pieces of leather, I felt like I was totally rocking the dominatrix vibe.

Yeah, I could pull that off. I can be bossy when I need to be, scary if necessary, and I know several men who need straightening out. Some of them simply need punching out.

Most of them I wouldn't bother with though. Some I'd rather just give over to the old British Navy. Straighten up and for God's sake, GROW UP, fellas! Oh, you need someone to beat some maturity into you, huh?

Well, I think I'd need some inspiration to help you out there, Sparky. You don't exactly inspire me.

I could tell you what the supplies are for but imagining is probably more interesting anyway, so let your mind wander.

Wow... That's... Too big!

Today I showed some students the afghan I started yesterday and it suddenly dawned on me...

It's nearly ten feet long. Ahahah yeah, I'm gonna rip that out and try again. At that rate I should have had it half finished last night. LOL.

It's not like I'm losing much time. Only about a day's work. You have to admit -- that's kinda funny. :)

Journey of an Earring

Yesterday morning I woke up missing an earring. A few months ago I repierced my stubborn right earlobe because it keeps healing up when I'd like it to remain pierced.

I bought some sterling silver studs with CZs in them with the intention of keeping them in all of the time. Silver seems to be the only metal that doesn't cause me dermatitis.

Hooray, I'm not a werewolf, despite the nightmare that caused this minor fiasco.

Yesterday, one earring was missing. I woke up after a dream that I was transforming into a werewolf, yet again. :) I hate those dreams. It's really painful. I remember tearing at the fur on my face and then I woke up.

I couldn't find the earring. Pretty expensive, too. At this point, no regret for not buying actual diamonds.

Today at work, I reached down into a tote I rarely being to work, looking for my cell phone belt clip. I heard a rattle as I picked it up.

My missing earring. Wow. Weird?

How did it get in that bag, brought to work, and still have that earring lying on top of a slippery plastic piece that got tossed around in that bag and in my car? It was really jostled.

And I found my expensive fake diamond earring. :)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Chomping through that stash like PAC-Man

Well, it feels like that to ME, anyway.

OH! It's a stash of YARN, by the way.

Progress I made today on using a huge donated bag of yarn. :). Started this morning and it's about 6 feet long, so far, and about a 10 inches wide.

By the way, I crochet really fast. ;). Guess I never truly got over my childhood impatience. Hey, any job worth doing is worth doing super-fast, right ? I like results.

Results like finishing a big project fast, using materials that were destined for the trash, and blending a lot of bright colors together.

My dark side tells me I'm planning for the daughters and grandchildren I'll never have. LOL. My practical self tells me that my siblings have kids and they'll someday have kids, and it won't hurt to be prepared. After all, people seem to like the baby blankets I make for their baby showers. Yeah, it's kinda like torture for me but I do it anyway. :-/

I don't like to be cold, therefore, I don't like to think about others being cold. So there ya go. Still, it doesn't exactly push me to go knit the angora sweater a relative snidely demanded last year.

Her attitude reminds me of a line from Practical Magic -- "You can't practice witchcraft while looking down your nose at it!" In other words, don't make fun of me for being able to knit and crochet and then expect me to make you a $200 sweater that you'll put in a yard sale for a dollar in a year.

I love her, but I've seen too much of some (actually lovely) things I've made for their family tossed aside without care for the time I spent making them.

Disclaimer: the yarn is currently dirty. Eww. I hate that. But it's easier to work it into something and wash it thoroughly afterward than to try to clean it while it is in skeins.

I tried yesterday to make a quick blanket out of the yarn, but I hated everything I tried. I think I'll like how the granny stripes look. :) I hope the previous owner of the yarn is smiling down happily.

Chameleon Eyes

I remember taking the first really good look at my eye color when I was in fifth grade. We had to put together a poetry notebook (continuing the theme of forced poetry consumption that still makes me shudder to this day though I know it was supposed to make me appreciate poetry) and one of the poems had to include a physical description of ourselves.

My eyes had been brown as long as I could remember, but when I took a good look, they were a greenish brown. So in my poem I said something about my eyes being brown and green, and earned a very snide response from the teacher saying that was stupid unless one was green and the other brown. At the time I didn't know to say "greenish-brown" as a color, and I certainly didn't know about hazel eyes.

As a teacher now, I have to look back and wonder what I did to make Mrs. B hate me so much that she was always saying nasty things to me. I was a well-behaved kid and I made good grades. But I wasn't the only kid terrified of her so maybe I hadn't done anything wrong. She almost made me hate reading. I still feel scared inside when I remember being in her class and waiting for the bite of her verbal whip.

A couple of years ago I researched changing eye color because my eyes started looking green, not hazel. Ms. Critical was thinking that I was just looking for some excuse to think myself special. But as it turns out, hazel eyes do sometimes change color over the course of a lifetime.

Or in my case, less than half of a lifetime.

20 years ago I bought contacts to make my brown eyes green, though I was told it wouldn't work. It did. :).

Now my eyes are green. Works for me.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

It starts with a headache

And worsens with the feeling that the water is not only swirling beneath you, that Charybdis is clutching your feet.

I'm not sure which is worse -- that sinking feeling that you've lost something precious and irreplaceable, or the visceral realization that you didn't have it in the first place, and never had it in your life. You wouldn't recognize it anyway.

BTW - if you're of a mind to criticize MY weight? Kiss my ass.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Italian Lessons

Started my Italian lessons tonight via a few iPad apps. Oh shut up. ;).

Remember, I did great in Spanish and a lot of the vocabulary I've seen so far is very similar. Still, they are not the same language, and here we go again with the trilled r, whatever it may be called in Italian. Lol

My goal is not to speak like a native, but to understand some of what I hear and maybe be able to respond as well. I just hate not having a clue what is being said around me.

There have been a few times when folks were speaking Spanish around me and I absolutely pretended not to understand them. Once it was a couple of guys being um, very complimentary of my physical traits. I thanked them politely for their observations and then laughed to myself as I walked away and they kind of choked on their embarrassment.

Yeah, knowing another language can be very useful at times. I will say this: the better your vocabulary in English, the easier it is to make connections with foreign words and phrases. Right now we have il fronte freddo di aria blowing through. (A cold front - tear the phrase apart and you'll see what I mean.)

Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed

For the record, I stopped my treatment last night after the shower. It seems that after stimulating my circulation with the scrub and peppermint, my head chilled out with the pain. Though I did spritz my pillows and sheets with minty pillow mist. It's just pleasant, relaxing, and conducive to restful dreams.

Once I finally overcame my yawning, I wasn't tired all day. I didn't manage to sleep any earlier than usual and I did have to take some Melatonin to counter the caffeine in the Pepsi, but I slept well for a change.

Once again I want to take a stab at an herb garden. It's strange to me that when I only had a patio and no yard, my container herb garden thrived. When I bought my house, planting in the ground or in containers with purchased potting soil still made for a lousy garden.

Maybe the ground is contaminated. (Yeah, I know I can have it tested.). Maybe it has something to do with the fact there is no water outlet in the backyard and I don't want to lug a massive hose around and around to water it.

I've been wanting to convert my crummy backyard into an English Garden for years now, but there is that water issue *sigh* and the big pecan tree overhanging all which might complicate things. Right now my yard looks like a pecan tree nursery. Oh yeah, they are viable seeds, my pecans.

Okay, I'm getting sad wishing for a pretty garden because it would take too much modification of my property and I don't want to do intense maintenance. I hate weeding and I hate mosquitoes.

Anybody know of an article that tells how to turn your horrible buried-trash yard into something worth visiting a couple of times a week? (Hey, I didn't bury the trash. I found it when I tried to dig a garden bed and heard the clang as the shovel hit a refrigerator rack. I never was strong enough to dig that sucker up, either. )

Right now is the prime time to do what should be done.

And I don't want to.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed is an expression of my grandmother's that describes being awake, alert, and ready to face the day. It makes me think of squirrels, of course.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Migraine Remedy

Tomorrow I have to be at work early to prepare for administering the big bad test of the year. My task is to read the entire damn thing aloud, over the course of four days.

And I have a migraine. Mine often last for days.

It might be coincidence, but I had dinner with my family today and they of course, smoked the entire time. I don't smoke. It disgusts me. And I think it probably causes me to have headaches.

Hey ho, it's time to go.

It's nearly 11 pm and I am trying to get myself into bed. I'd like to kill this migraine first though. Maybe something I do tonight will help.

What I've done so far / plan to do:

Took a sinus pill, in case it was a sinus problem. Didn't work.

Drank a Pepsi, because sometimes a little caffeine loosens the bite in the pain.

Before I lie down I'm going to take a hydrocodone (neck surgery leftover).

Next up is a shower with a body polish, using Bath & Body Works Tranquil Mint body wash (pour a few tablespoons into 1/2 cup or so of sugar, mix, and you've got your polishing scrub. Ain't I clever?)

No thanks to B&BW for discontinuing that aromatherapy fragrance which just happens to be the only one that helps me with migraines. But I think just might have a copy by now. When I run out, I'll give it a try.

After the shower I'll spritz my pillow with Tranquil Mint pillow mist. Then I'll pack my head in ice and try to sleep.

I also didn't turn the heat back on in the house though we've taken a dip back into a chilly blackberry winter. It's spring, darn it.

Springtime in Tennessee means I should be sweating outside by now, not shivering and wishing I had some warm hunky guy to snuggle with.

Hopefully, by morning I will have had some restful dreams and lost the migraine.

I'm going to wash my hair tonight so that in the morning I only have to get it wet. Yes, I'm one of those people who washes their hair every day, and I don't understand the people who only wash theirs once a week. Ick. Maybe I just enjoy silky soft clean hair more than the other people.

Almost forgot the music. Loreena Mckennitt's The Mask and Mirror. Could just be mind over matter but if it works, I don't mind and it doesn't matter. ;)

Fifty Shades of Grey

Hmm. Should I review it and tell what I think? Ugh, that would be admitting I read it! Um, the trilogy. Lol. Actually, I'm only halfway through the second book.

Okay, I know I'm supposed to be a stuffy school teacher and local opinion seems to be that as such, I'm only allowed to live my life in a way that seems socially acceptable to them , (get a clue, nobody owns me) but I do read quite a variety of quality literature and sometimes I read trashy stuff. Oh right, like YOU've never read a romance novel? Sure. Deny, deny, deny.

Some things I will only 'fess up to in person, and never in print. Some things would bore you, like technical manuals and electronics creation. And still other things we could have an entertaining discussion about. My reading tastes run the gamut from fairy tales (still) to how-to books.

One of these days I'll write something more substantial than a blog. Oh wait, I have two stories / novels on progress already -- I just lack the motivation and confidence to keep moving until I'm in the mood. Blogging is a way for me to do that mental exercise. I think I'm fulfilling my professors' admonitions of a minimum number of pages per day.

Well, it also helps because I don't have anyone to just talk to on a daily basis. I am only important in my own life. Everyone else has things to do that don't involve me, so this is my therapy. Lol

So, the book. Knowing that the subject matter was fairly spicy, I bought it in Kindle form and read it on my iPad. The thought that I might get judged if anyone saw it, oh boy. I blush just thinking about it. But understand, I had the same reaction when anyone saw me reading a Harlequin Romance when I was a teenager, too. Lol. I suppose that having a somewhat romantic nature is frowned upon because I'm surrounded by rednecks who never daydream of anything beyond their next six pack.

I don't write book reviews, so forgive me if this is a bit too informal. If you want to know a little about the book without having it ruined for you, here goes.

Anastasia Steele - main character. Oh what a romantic sounding name. The last name is a hint as well. Sweet and innocent, ends up in the spider's parlor as a favor to a sick friend.

Christian Grey- The "spider" is attractive, intelligent, and absolutely magnetic. Throw in obscenely wealthy and driven to succeed, philanthropic, and a controlling person to the utmost.

He has a very dark side and has an alternative lifestyle (whips, chains, etc) that isn't publicly known about. I'm not going into details on that, naughty reader. Ask me directly if you want to know. Yes, it gets "wild" pretty fast, but the book mixes the dangerous element with the romantic, while keeping things safe (physically, though not necessarily emotionally). Feeling safe in the face of potential danger is an important concept.

Lest you think that Grey is just some sadist, there is ... Something more to his story. Aha. So the inner child shows up for a little psychoanalysis and therapy, so to speak. Not literally, of course, though it is definitely in that Playroom of his. Wow. That was impressive.

This is where I have to issue a warning (is it really a warning?) that if you have any deep-seated issues of your own, you might have a hard time seeing this story as mere naughty entertainment. In fact, some of the scenes might feel at once familiar and appropriate to you.

Or maybe you don't know what I mean. ;) Moving on!

There is a lot of sex in this book, and it's not vanilla. (Not going to explain that term.) It's pretty hot and bothered, if you are a strange bird who likes that sort of thing. Hahaha And no, they aren't married. Or engaged. And neither mentions church. Oooohhhh.... Yes, it's really naughty. Perhaps you shouldn't read it if that gives you room for pause.

I enjoy that a British author gets so many of the details correct in an Americanized story, but there were a few very minor details that still sounded upper-class European. They made me giggle, because I think as a whole, Americans definitely lack that innate classiness. ;). We don't say we're going for "a" coffee. It's just coffee.

It is true that we don't make tea correctly. But most of us in the South would rather drink iced tea anyway. :D. Hot tea we don't understand and yes, we do dunk the bag. Lol. I know, it ruins it.

We don't really say "shit" that often. Lol there was something else, equally as insignificant, but I can't remember at the moment.

The story seems like it must be purely the work of the author's imagination, but the details could have been pulled from anyone's life, and it isn't that far fetched. (Oh... Are you squirming?)

Well, except for the romantic parts. ;). I don't believe in romantic love anymore. I've got my reasons. Still, I can always admit when I'm wrong, if I ever am about this.

(That is most definitely NOT an invitation for you to drown me in all the tiresome cutesiness that proves how much someone loves YOU. I meant proving me wrong, personally.) Kindly lay off your "sharing" because it isn't cute to anyone but you and no, I'm not cheering for you. /end rant with a snicker

If I say anymore, I'll give away the plot. So if this that I've mentioned sounds interesting, go ahead and read it. If something disturbed you, back away and forget I mentioned it. ;)

Can't afford the silk

Well, I could, but I just can't justify the purchase of silk yarn for a garment I may be too angry to finish. If it doesn't look great from the first piece, I know I won't finish it. That's just the way it is. Finding or making clothes that look good on me has always been a trial.

When I was a skinny teen, I still had to contend with my bosom. Big enough to fit that always hangs off like a shower curtain. It's disheartening when nothing looks right though you have the body to look great. Lol

Has crochet always been such a freaking expensive hobby, or is it just that something has changed recently? It's true that I'd like to work with nicer fibers but when the designers create things with silk yarns.... I can't spend $150 on yarn for a single garment. Yikes!

No, I don't think I'm worth it and you can't buy dk weight yarn around here anyway. Nor wool, but that would be fairly useless where I live anyway. I'm not likely to be out fishing on a ship in the cold. Though I might go out on such a boat if I go to Ireland in a couple of years, I don't plan to fish.

I just don't like fishing or even reading about others' thrilling exploits like... Sitting somewhere for hours, fishing. There has to be some action involved for me to enjoy it.

When I was a teen perfecting my skills, I bought cheap acrylic yarn because that's what I could afford. :). Now that I know a little more about fibers, I still can't justify spending over $100 in materials for something I might not feel motivated to finish.

I did spend $62 on the yarn to make a copy of the sweater from my class but I didn't buy silk. Not even bamboo. That was too expensive and didn't have colors that would work together. I'd still have spent $120+ for bamboo.

So I got Lion Brand Microspun. Let's hope it drapes well and I don't look like I'm wearing a stiff tent.

I suppose if it doesn't drape, I can always kill the fabric with an iron. I've done it before.

Someone suggested that I make and sell sweaters and I'll get rich.

Let's take that $150 gorgeous silk sweater.
Add in an hourly wage for me to make it.
And then add in the attitude of the locals that makes them think they should get a $500 sweater for $20. And then get a discount because they think they are special.


Your average person doesn't understand the value in couture. They just believe they are entitled to it without paying for it. :). I get it, but I am a teacher in a small town. What would be the point?

I'm beginning to think Sam is right. I'm not the small-town kind of person and I'm in the wrong place. But it's hard to throw away everything you worked so hard to get just on a whim that being all alone in a big city will be good for you. Heck, it wasn't good for me when I was in other small towns. I'm too introverted.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Don't wear undies in surgery

REM sleep in under an hour Yep, I timed it. Does that mean anything?

I did take a nap. Okay, I took two. but the first one was so detailed it surprised me. Adam Ant was in my dream, poor guy. But really, it was just one of those "look who you run into in an embarrassing moment" situations involving a department store bathroom. Lol. It was totally mundane, I assure you.

I do recall that I was being prepped for a kidney donation. And the longer they kept me waiting, the more I began to doubt the confidence of the surgical team. It wasn't a sterile room, it wasn't secure, and they kept bringing injured people in for me to watch over while I waited.

Oh excuse me, you're not doing enough by giving a stranger your kidney, now be a good girl and take care of these folks too.

What am I, a babysitter? I remember wanting to sleep in my room but they wouldn't let me.

Hey, during my surgery in October I learned something, and it is knowledge which I feel compelled to impart to you. (Had a tumor removed.)

I had to be at the surgery center at 6 am for preparation. Naturally, I couldn't eat or drink anything the night before, and I was pretty much empty the next morning.

They told me to strip off everything but I could keep my socks and underwear on as long as they were 100% cotton. (I presume that rule comes from the possibility of synthetic fabrics causing friction sparks, in an environment where the patient is given oxygen.) I was happy because not only does Miss Modesty here get cold feet easily, she doesn't relish the though of being unconscious and totally naked when it's her upper neck being operated upon.

My surgery was supposed to be at 7:30. I got really bored trying to watch tv without my contacts in, being news-only anyway. I wasn't sleepy but I closed my eyes anyway and tried to sleep because I was so bored.

At sometime around 11, they came in without warning and woke me up as they whisked me to surgery. I don't remember much of it because they turned on my anesthesia along the way.

Then I remember some twilight awakening, me feeing the desperate compulsion to sit up, and a panicky nurse running over to tell me, "Oh no, honey, you shouldn't be waking up YET! Go back to sleep!" (I couldn't sit up anyway, other than lifting my head. I'm pretty sure they had me strapped into that gurney.). I think they had just take me out of the OR because I was in a different part of the room then. But I wanted to be a good patient and let sleep take me again.

When I was finally allowed to start waking up, I was in a curtained cubicle of the same room, away from the OR doors. My nurse went to get my dad and start the Sprite for my poor torn up post-intubation throat. (several days for that to heal).

My point, and I do have one: at some point I realized my underwear was missing. Turns out it was in a bag under my bed. Wet. Oh, I was mortified! But the nurse told me not to worry, because it happens lots of people and they never know because they get cleaned up before they awaken. I knew because I'd been wearing my underwear.

You know, if they had just let me go to the bathroom before surgery, I would have kept my dignity intact. Lol I'd been waiting 5 hours by then, though.

So... don't bother wearing your underwear in surgery. Your modesty and best intentions don't stand a chance when the anesthetist juices you with a muscle relaxer and knocks you out cold.

It's a little funny. ;)

Creative delirium in the wee hours

Last night I passed out around 10 pm. I think. Well, I know that I received a text around that time and never did hear it. The next time I remember waking up was around 4 am. I played an inspiring 4 rounds of scrabble for someone who was still pretty much asleep.

I do my best creative thinking when I'm hovering over the edge of unconsciousness. Ask my sister. I designed an awesome brochure for her once while I was sleeptalking. Seriously. :). Sometimes I regret not knowing anything about graphic design when I was in college. I think I would have been great at it.

So now I'm a teacher and could retire in 12 years (if I don't take any of my retirement benefits for three years after that. Yeah, live on nothing, that works.). I think sometimes around going back to school and embracing my artistic side over my practical side. If nothing good happens in my life in the meantime and I feel the need to retire from teaching, I just might do it.

I started teaching early. I just passed 40, so don't be thinking that 12 years to retirement means I'm an old lady. I'm not. :) Hey, I'm still waiting to live my 20s and 30s. I had to be responsible far too young and the rest of living fell by the wayside. Gee, don't I make it all look so fun and easy?

Understand that I call it passing out when there is no alcohol involved. Those are nights when I'm so tired I fall asleep on my bed doing something, clothes on, contacts in, face unwashed, and more often than not, lights on and door unlocked. I don't know if it's more disturbing that the door is unlocked or that I'm sleeping soundly in a light-filled room. That's exhaustion, folks. Next week will be intensely worse when I have four days of reading a state-mandated test aloud for several hours.

Don't ask me for any favors, please. :). I'll probably go home and sleep every day.

Right now I'm thinking about my dog having peed on the sofa cushion more than once. The cover is in the wash, and I'm mad as hell at him.

But I also want to go back to sleep. There's nothing going on in my world today except some hilarious tweets about Adam Ant and Fifty Shades of Grey. Still, I'm tired. Had a great massage and I want to sleep despite last night's 12 hours. I'd also like a bunch of gummy bears, but that ain't happening either. Anybody else get stomachaches when they eat gummy bears?

Btw - comments are open if you want to say something about any of my posts. But if you're just a cowardly lurker, that's fine too. ;) /end taunt

Not another plane crash dream...

Last night I dreamed that I was on my upcoming puddlejumper flight to Miami (3 seats across) and the darn plane crashed. I'm have to absolutely blame the pilot because she was flying so darn low that we were over a highway, and close enough to the cars to touch them.

I was not wearing my seatbelt (which was more like a shoulder harness...) I suppose something I've been reading lately put that in there. In the story it's a helicopter rig, and the description made me so claustrophobic that I pulled it into my dream. Fifty Shades Darker... I read about the helicopter going down last night, and my subconscious subsequently decided to have a little nocturnal fun with me.

I think it's funny that in some situations with seatbelts I can't stand to be completely immobilized, yet riding the Mr. Freeze coaster at Six Flags kinda bothers me too, and there is NO shoulder bar, though it goes upside down forwards and back and does an unnerving hover nose-up for several seconds. So those toe-holds absolutely own me for the duration of the ride. Lol

So I'm still claustrophobic. Argh.

In my dream, one of the plane's engines started sputtering, choking, and then died, which caused the crash. It was more of a rip-off-the-landing-gear and bounce around on the belly of the plane until friction and a collision with a big rock stops forward motion kind of thing. Oh, you're not familiar with this scenario?

I'm not afraid of flying. I'm afraid of being trapped in a too-tight space against my will for several hours. I don't think that's irrational. Those little planes are cute and charming, but I just don't believe they offer as much protection in a crash as a bigger one. I need elbow and toe-wiggle room.

Of course nobody was hurt in the crash. But don't let anyone tell you you can't survive dying in a dream. I've died in my dreams so many times I can't recall all the ways I was murdered. It sucks having to lie there dead and messed up until the dream ends and you wake up feeling like you really were physically harmed while you were asleep.

It's just the product of a very creative imagination. No worries. But I'll probably be plagued by bad dreams all summer before my trip.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Reusing / Recycling MiO Bottles

Because I have been drinking a lot of MiO, I've got a lot of those reusable bottles. :). You know me -- hug a tree; reuse all the plastics before making a scary landfill addition. I've been this way since high school 20+ years ago. OMG I'm getting old, huh?

Perfect for travel sizes -- I've been trying to come up with an exhaustive list of what can be put into them, though I haven't seen but one idea this far -- personalized hand sanitizer gifts. The lady who did that did a really lively job. If I can find it again, I'll share the link to her site.

The bottles only hold 1.6 ounces, so they will satisfy the TSA. Just don't peel off the label marking the size. Some of them have a problem with that. Some people need to get a freaking basic education on liquids volume.

Toiletries for Travel:
Body wash
Hand Sanitizer
Bubble bath

Food Related:
Mix-your-own MiO flavor combos
Salad dressings
Liquid sweeteners
Salad dressings
Lemon / fruit juice
Cooking oil
Liquid B vitamins
Coffee flavoring syrup

* Whenever my family goes camping, we end up spending too much money on brand new bottles of ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise for hot dogs and hamburgers. Of course, we never use them up on the trip, and that's how my sister's fridge ended up with 5 bottles each of ketchup and mustard, and several jars of mayo that went bad. Besides, that stuff takes up a lot of room in a cooler for the small amount we use. Forget backpacking with those things. Buying smaller bottles and jars is a ripoff as well.

Yeah, I know it's an environmentally geeky post, but that's just me. ;)

Washing up in style

These are the washcloths I have finished so far. I wanted to have several to choose from, because a colleague wants to buy some to give as gifts. ;)

I like mine. :). They get used daily in my shower. Soft, fluffy, absorbent, and scrubby. (That's not me bragging-- it's the nature of pure cotton. )

The ones that are left I'll save for the next silent auction or maybe for gifts, unless someone is interested in buying them. (Let me know if you have a request.)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Bribe or Challenge?

Today I bribed a student and I don't feel a bit penitent about it. I told her that if she would keep her discipline record clean for the remainder of the school year, I'll give her a nice present on the last day of school.

I told her it was a challenge, and I know she is up to it because her behavior is her choice.

And I'm dead serious. I'm thinking about painting something special just for her, or maybe making her a pretty scarf, or even getting her movie tickets.

I Just. Want. Her. To. Be. Good.

I'd like for her to see that there are benefits to behaving, rather than being obnoxious.

That's all. If it takes me providing extrinsic motivation to teach her some intrinsic motivation, I'm willing to help her. *sigh* I hope it works. I've programmed in my reminders to keep checking her progress and to have her gift ready at the end of May as well.

If she doesn't make it, I'm not going to say anything further about it though.

Knowing What You Want

Once a boyfriend accused me of not knowing what I wanted. I did. What he really meant was that I didn't want what he wanted, purely on his terms. That was a very shallow relationship. Well, he was a really shallow man. My depth was what he was avoiding, so to speak. I'm too serious, too deep.

I don't think he was afraid of drowning, exactly, but more likely he wanted things extremely casual and he was afraid he'd lose his desire to be a selfish jerk if he started considering that I had feelings of my own.

For a while I thought that not having a specific person in my life was what made me unhappy. Looking back now, I don't think he had it in him to be the kind of man I wanted. Not that it was such a tall order, you understand, but that he wasn't really mature enough be what I needed him to be. That's not to say that I feel myself superior, even now, but that we were just in different places.

It's possible that I'm not on some lofty plane but just in another type of reality, which I acknowledge as proving me to be the weird one. At least locally, it's weird because I never saw the value in getting chemically tanked with a guy as a method of bonding. Lol. And I am out of the ordinary for my insistence on waiting until I was married to a guy to start a family with him, and then swapping baby-daddies a few months later. I guess there is something about the lure of that situation that I will never understand.

I am definitely suspect for not going there, to the people who did go that route. They look down on me. ;) I don't get it. Hey, it's something when nobody wants you enough to knock you up and then abandon you.

Lately I've realized that there is no particular person I've got in mind, but more like a type of person. Intelligence is not an option; it's a requirement. I just don't like the dumb ones who try to walk all over me because I think I'm smarter than they are. Well, saying that just proves not only that I am, but also that it bothers them far too much. I've tried, but it always becomes a bone of contention.

So... Gimme a smart guy with some creativity so he can at least understand who I am and not always be mad at me for drawing or painting or making something.

There are, of course, other traits that are important, but I can't really mention them here because I will have to see evidence of those particular attitudes without providing a checklist. My standards aren't that high, but they are *different* than the average person's.

Sure, anyone can pretend to have that mindset, but they can't actually be that way. Its an easy thing to see though that act because the ... Hmmm... Shall we say, strain? would prove to be too much before long. It's my standard, and it's not a common trait. I could describe it, but only a small group would understand what I mean.

I'd rather not bother playing certain games if everyone involved can't perform their part, you know? Hmm. I guess in the meantime I should just channel those thoughts into my fiction writing. I might not ever find anyone strong enough for the role. At least, not where I come from. But understand that it isn't just playing a part It's ingrained personality. This is something that you just can't fake.

Caught a chill :(

I know I was only out in that cold wind for a couple of hours, but I was dressed for it. Pants, knee socks, shirt plus heavy fleece pullover with hand warmer pockets. Still, I shivered the whole time, and now that I'm home and cuddled on my bed reading, I can't get warm again.

:( bummer. This really makes me wish I could coax a full bath's worth of hot water from my ancient water heater . Since I can't, I'm sitting here in my bed, hoping the shivering and headache go away. Wearing soft, fluffy red Mickey Mouse pajamas, covered with the comforter, and still yet wrapped in the soft silky heavy blanket I made myself last year.

I'm too cold, even now with icy white fingers and cold cheeks.

Apologies for the typos in the previous post. I was only partially conscious. ;)

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Not Quite Leather

This is the half yard of fabric they tried to charge me $25 for last night. I think authentic leather would be cheaper. Lol

I'm thinking it would make a pretty tasty iPad sleeve... And maybe a few bracelets. :). Definitely a bag.



Judging by the red mark on my forehead this morning (my brother said it resembles a dent), the two hours of sleep I managed to get last night between 4 and 6 am contained a round of sleepwalking. It wasn't there when I went to bed and it doesn't bear any resemblance to a scratch from my dog. It looks almost like I burned myself with the curling iron. No recollection of that happening, either.

I took melatonin to make myself drowsy sometime around two am, but this time it didn't work, boo. I remember being a bit flustered at 4 am that I couldnt go to sleep. I'd already played my favorite thunderstorm recording and was wide awake for the ending of it 45 minutes later.

Oh well, it happens when you are as undisciplined about sleeping as I've become lately. I can be totally juiced on caffeine in the afternoon and still fall asleep without warning if I get too still once I get home. I just can't get my schedule together lately. Too much on my mind most of the time, and if I get too distracted / inspired by some creative pursuit, forget sleeping until Friday afternoon when I crash.

Yeah, I'm really living the life. Lol.

At least there are no speaking witnesses who have heard me talking in my sleep. Some secrets are still my own and can't be spread around by untrustworthy people for the sake of entertaining theirs pals. (It's a sore spot that the most untrustworthy people will turn it around and never confide in you because they claim they can't trust you. Fifty shades of stupid, right there. I'm not one to tell secrets not mine to share.)

Receipt Ripoff & PETA Bug-off

I was in the local Mall-Mart (you know who I mean) tonight for some milk and dog treats. I found a pretty piece of black textured (fake, lol) leather in the remnant bin for $4.24. Started having a few dark thoughts as to what I might do with it and took my purchases to the checkout.

This appeared on the readout:

Family package $20
5x7. $1.84
8x10 $2.84

Hmm. That was odd, considering that I hadn't purchased ANY pictures there in a couple of YEARS. I take my photos digitally, then Photoshop them into printed and bound photo books. (Yay, Shutterfly!). I'm good at it, and I teach Photoshop to my 8th graders.

So I stopped the checker and had her look it over. She said that was the price of the fabric. When I pointed out that it wasn't $25 for that piece of fabric, she said that the fabric must have been returned and the barcode had been recycled to the photo department. She fixed it for me.

Holy cow! What if I hadn't noticed? I'm thinking for $25, it should be real leather. And no, I don't have a problem with leather. (Okay, I'll admit I like the smell of real leather. Hahah. Shhhh.)

Or eating meat. Mmmm I'm a devout carnivore, though I'll admit I'm a bit squeamish about some things in that arena. LOL I'm still a picky eater.

However, I don't see the point in wearing real fur. Fake fur is often gorgeous and easier to take care of, but if you want to wear fur, it doesn't really bother me. Knowing the difference between fake and real fur is something I don't give a darn about. I don't think I even own any fake fur. ;) It just isn't on my radar.

Sure, ermine is gorgeous, but who wants to wear a weasel? :D

Alarming Stench of Strawberries

I like strawberries. Oh, do I. :). Not quite as much as cherries, but we used to grow an entire garden of them at my grandmother's house.

A few days ago I bought a quart of fresh strawberries, and the smell emanating from the package nauseated me. Nothing but strawberry smell.

I was scared to eat many of them, given that they came from south of the border and we've had problems with contaminated imported fruit for a few years now. Salmonella.

Been there. Done that. Really did wish I would just go on and die instead of living through any more of that pain.

Those berries went completely bad in two days. Into the garbage they went.
Perhaps I'm going about my fruit consumption the wrong way.

Tonight I bought another quart of strawberries and verified that they were grown in California. That's a good sign. Those growers are watched.

And THIS quart has that horrible stench. It's just the natural smell of strawberries, but suddenly I can't stand it.

The berries are gorgeous. Just sweet enough, large, and very prettily red. The leaves are all fresh and bright green. They're nearly perfect. Too perfect. Hmmm...

You guessed it. They're Stepford Strawberries. They couldn't be satisfied with Stepford wives and Stepford children, so now they're tinkering with the fruit! Oh sure, enhance everything...

... Even the smell of the strawberries. Creepy. And disgusting! I thought that overly sensitive sense of smell only happened to pregnant women. (Don't look at me like that. Everyone knows I'm never going to have children.)

Seriously though, what kind of weirdo becomes nauseated over the smell of fresh strawberries?

Who even *notices* that the leaves have a knock-me-down smell? (They stopped troubling me after I capped the berries and threw the leaves out.)

I have small hands, even for a woman. (My winter gloves for playing in the snow hail from the little boys' department, and they are still too big. LOL). But look at the size of that Stepford Strawberry - in mid-April, no less. Seems rather unusual to me.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Running the Luge

I have no idea why, last night, I had a very vivid dream about participating in one of my favorite Olympic sports. Sort of participating. It seems I combined some details into a new activity.

The luge. Weird, eh? Oh, it was exciting, I'll tell you that. Fun, too. I guess I still have that love for dangerous speed.

Only my imagination combined real ice lugeing with street lugeing. I was in a mountain town that had ice tracks (channels?) set up in the streets, sort of like a waterslide. No sleds, just run, jump in, lie back and keep your feet crossed at the ankles unless you were braking. And feel the shredded ice fluttering up into your face as it was scraped loose by your feet. It was like a shower of snowflakes.

It was a cold but colorful dream. The trees overhanging the city streets with snow-covered branches were very green. The buildings were red brick. And the sun was a bright yellow which I remember because I couldn't find any sunglasses, and that hurt my eyes as badly as it ever does. Yeah, I've had brightness issues since my eye surgery.

Still, I remember that it was so much fun I was laughing while I was flying down the tracks.

I was actually laughing in my sleep, because it woke me up when I heard it. :).

Sunday, April 15, 2012

See, what had happened was...

Depression can affect you in strange ways. It can cause physical pain when there is no injury (and believe me, it's not phantom pain), it can cause you to develop unofficial narcolepsy, it can cause people to abandon you when you've already told them that's the worst thing they can do to you, and it can cause some behaviors that are a bit odd, to say the least.

My last round with it lasted a full week. I won't get into who abandoned me, because I knew it would happen. By the way, if a severely depressed person acknowledges that they would be terrible company, sometimes you should force them to endure your company anyway. I don't really want to be alone in the darkness, anyway. But I am never going to ask for help when I've been refused help for so long. If they don't want to talk about "it," at least talk to them about something.

I may have given the "leave me alone" vibes. I honestly don't remember much of those days.

But hey, I know I'm responsible for not bringing anyone else down, and to hell with what I need. So I won't bother you if I can keep my wits about me. Maybe you should open your eyes and have your wits about YOU. Pay attention.

What causes it? Sometimes absolutely nothing is a trigger. I've never taken drugs recreationally, and I tend to rebel when I'm told I have to take something every day. I'm a bit childish like that. I don't want to put a bunch of chemicals in my body. I don't smoke, and I rarely drink. If I'm out, sure. But I'm an adult and I don't sit around by myself drinking to cope with anything. I don't get the point of someone drinking until they vomit either. Yay, sounds so fun. Not. Lol

So sometimes it just happens. Even after a period when I've been really up and happy. (Yeah, shut up about that. I know.) A thought goes too far and I start to slide. The downward spiral begins and if nobody interferes, it increases in intensity until the absolute crash.

Well, I crashed last week and I hid it because I had to work. If you saw me you may suspect I have a little bit of acting talent after all. Ha ha. My family saw me on Easter and I know that with the way I was acting, they probably made the wrong assumption about the cause. Nobody ever asked me about it.

Let me explain. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. Like I was really heavily medicated after surgery or drunk or something. Everything seemed a bit unreal to me. For days at home I stumbled around unable to keep my balance. I was very careful not to take so much as a Tylenol, and I didn't drink anything stronger than water. Still, things were weird, and the sadder I became, the weirder it was.

So I slept a lot. I had trouble staying awake anyway. If I looked at it scientifically, I'd probably find a serious shortage of dopamine in my brain.

Ooh drugs, right? Well, while you're looking down your nose at me for having this problem, ask yourself how many pills you regularly take. Bet you have one for every mood. I don't. I choose not to elevate myself to the classy status of pill head.

I know it's a status symbol for some people, that they "need" their drugs. They brag about what they can get from their doctors. I'd rather be clean. That's MY choice, and I know how ironic it is that my reputation gets trashed because I refuse to take a bunch of drugs. Even adults try that peer pressure thing with drugs.

Besides, I've tried antidepressants. And though I was told "I wish you'd start taking them again because I liked you better when you were," I'm just not here to suffer the side effects and zombie-like state for the sake of pleasing someone else. They don't actually work on me anymore, anyway. I'll pass. And I'll pass on the weight gain too.

I know a lot of that is just trying to kneecap me to their level because they are jealous of... I don't know, what's the petty cause this week? Oh, I'm still breathing? Well, let me just hold my breath for you until you feel better.

Yeah, whatever. I've finally realized I'm not the black sheep. I'm glittery purple. Haha. Deal with it.

It never occurred to me to ask a doctor specifically for drugs. (Thought only junkies did that, but anyway!) Then again, whenever I finally go to the doctor (Really sick by then) and they snidely ask me what I think is wrong with me. I get the Attitude. It says, "You, mere mortal, could not possibly have the intelligence to understand your symptoms and self-diagnose. And how dare you presume to know more about your body than I do ???"

Well, I do. Lol. I'm living here 24/7, ain't I? And you aren't ever going to get INTO my body, either.

I know, that's a sign of a bad doctor. Nurse-practitioners seem to be the ones with compassion for patients. I don't want drugs. I just want to be healthy.

So no, I wasn't under the influence of anything but my own shortage of a vital neurotransmitter. And gosh darn it all, avoiding this problem was the reason I would never experiment with drugs in the first place! LOL. As a kid I had heard that taking drugs would damage your brain's ability to produce healthy chemical levels, so I did the right thing and stayed far away from that garbage.

Feeling a little better now, I can laugh at the irony inherent in that belief. I took the high road and it still had the same potholes in it. ;). Somebody up there has quite the dry sense of humor.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Tonsil Torture

Okay, wait for it....

For years my dad threatened that the next time my sister or I got tonsillitis, we were both going into the hospital to have our tonsils removed. It never happened, and I've still got mine. Right now, I wish I didn't.

I've got a piece of water chestnut stuck behind the right one and no amount of coughing, water, popcorn, or even reaching back with my finger will dislodge it. And I can feel it. Eew.

So this is what I get for trying to eat a healthy vegetarian lunch. O.o It figures!!

Yeah, I know this is the perfect opportunity to make a bunch of dirty jokes about how to remedy the situation. Lol. Actually...

Hey! Don't you dare!! :P

* ****

I did try my father's cure-all salt water gargling. As I thought, I couldn't get the water behind my tonsils without swallowing it and then trying to make it come back out. Yuck. I hate barfing.

It didn't work, anyway. :). Still stuck back there.

Mesh Market bags

Some of the ones I've made. :). They hold an insane amount of stuff!

I realized as I was making them that I could make them as big as I wanted but it's foolish to do so for a very good reason.

You should never put more weight into a bag than you can easily carry. Ouch. The bag did fine; I was less than fine. ;). The checker at the grocery store was awestruck, though she was obviously a plastic bag pusher.

The beige ones are a heavier gauge thread than the colorful ones I make. They look more substantial but the small-gauge thread ones are just as tough. I bought the beige thread. All of the colorful bags I have made so far were from my mother's stash.

As I've said before, I was really torn over what to do with it. I couldn't just throw useful thread away. I couldn't keep storing it for some phantom project that I probably wouldn't have enough thread of the right color for. So I made the shopping bags.

I've been working on a couple of original designs intended to make my luggage more efficient on my Italy trip. One is a bottle bag, and it is finished. It will double as a seat back organizer on the plane. When I'm not using it, it can be squashed into a bundle small enoug to conceal in the palm of my hand. It is substantial enough to easily hold a half-gallon milk jug, full. (I tested it.)

The other design is still in the thinking stages.

What I like most about this style of bag, especially in the smallest thread, is that they squash down when empty and take up only tiny amounts of space, while being nearly weightless.

When I look at one of these bags, I remember my mom working with this kind of thread, and I remember the tablecloth she made me when I was 12. I wish I knew where it went, but I have my suspicions.

I did offer some bags to my sister but she refused, saying that she couldn't imagine what she might possibly use one for. ;). Shopping, perhaps? LOL Beach bag, maybe? Laundry bag for the back of your door? Impressing people with your apparent desire to not pollute the planet while simultaneously wasting fossil fuels?
Trying to look a little European? ;)

Nah, you're right. Who needs a bag that last longer than a single use, anyway?

Me. :). Besides, I think they're pretty. :)

I've been watching Lost again and thinking, doesn't ANYbody know how to make a fishing net? Take a stick, carve the end into a hook, twist grasses or palm fronds into twine, and crochet a fishing net. Or you can wait around on the old guy to take down feral pig Lol

Me? I'd make some fishing nets, a canopy to weave leaves through and keep the sun off, maybe a sun hat, some mats to sleep on, probably a hammock to sleep. A few bags for carrying wood and other things. Maybe some fans to help keep cool. A cute little thong for Sawyer. Ooh sorry, that was just for me. LOL.

Oh that's right. Crochet is old-fashioned and only used for making useless pretty table doilies. Ha ha.


Over the past week I noticed that my welted mosquito bites stayed swollen and now they are bruised and swollen. What the heck? I've had a little problem with edema for years, and after my trip to San Antonio, I realized that flying puffs me up like crazy. That's why I look extra fat in those pictures. True, I needed to lose some weight, but a good bit of it was edema. That was less than a three hour flight.

Upcoming flights to Italy: none less than two hours and over the ocean they'll be 8+ hours. What am ongoing to do? I can't take a diuretic, since flight dehydration is already a problem. Special socks? I don't want to be walking around with cankles. Lol
Avoid sodium, go nuts with hydration, and lose another ten pounds first? Eek.

Bloodletting for the Common Good

Yesterday after work I passed a rather witty come-on for a blood drive at one of our local schools. The sign read "Don't give your blood to the vampires! Donate it here!".

When I realized that it had been almost a year since my last donation (guilt...) I decided to stop by and give it a shot. I sometimes have problems with anemia, but I think I have finally figured out what my problem is with that.

I started once again taking liquid b vitamins to help with my low energy levels. After a few months of that, the blood guy told me I had PLENTY of iron now. No supplements taken, and no effort to improve my diet. A little research showed that b vitamins increase the number of red blood cells your body has, so I figured that maybe it wasn't the iron I was truly lacking Maybe it was too few red blood cells. Hmm. More cells = more iron, more oxygen.

So he told me (same guy... We share a birthday-Valentine's day, and no, it isn't a great birthday to have when you're alone) that I have plenty of iron once again, blood pressure was good, and resting pulse rate of 100 was probably due to the student who I had to deal with the last period of the day. She deserved far worse than the calm dispatch to the office that I actually gave. But I was cool. I expected her to pull that stunt.

I got a cool t-shirt. :) I was thrilled to discover that not only can I not wear an extra large shirt anymore, but that the large was too big as well, though it was the smallest size they had. (Hey, I'm not flat-chested. I don't get to wear a small top no matter how much weight I lose. Lol) So medium, here I come. Yay me, I still need to get back in the gym.

They said they had a shortage of my blood type, a positive, and o negative. Uh oh. Mine is the second most common type in the US. Bad sign. Y'all go give blood, ok? I mean, I am only of value for my blood and organs, but there is no synthetic blood for human life saving. If they don't have it when you need a transfusion, you're gonna die. There aren't enough donors.

So stop being a coward and go give something of yourself. Oh, and stop acting like I don't do enough for others when you just let your own blood die in your body, though it could save as many as three lives, with just one donation.

I've donated over five GALLONS in my life. :)

Unfortunately, right after the donation the mosquitoes still found me as tempting and sweetly tasty as on any other day.

Well at least somebody loves me. LOL

Friday, April 13, 2012

Accidentally Coordinated Stashbusting

Say THAT three times fast! I know ya won't ! ;)

I had a couple of bags full of partial skeins of Lion Brand Homespun yarn that have been in my way for a long time. They weren't selected originally as matches for the other skeins. Some of them didn't coordinate very well.

But I decided upon my stitch pattern, put two different strands together and began creating a rug for my bedroom. As I added prices of leftover yarn and almost randomly selected balls of leftover yarn, a color progression developed that looked as uniform and even as if I had planned it that way. Lol

I didn't. :).

It just worked out that way. To make a long story short, I was so pleased by how nice the rug was turning out that I kept working until nearly 4 am on a school night. So here I am.... Tired. Lol.... And nobody to blame but myself.

Worth it? I think so. :). I'll let you know how nice it feels to dig my feet into that soft squishy rug. :)

Can you see why I love it? LOL

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Kindle-ing my own books

Did you know that you can do that? Ive been raving over my CamScanner software for weeks now, because I can "scan" pages with my iPhone or iPad and then print them in color immediately at work. Then I started making my own multiple page PDFs with it -- very handy! Now I've discovered that I can send my documents to my Kindle app, as "books".

Piece of cake to get them in there, or store them in an online file storage site.

Now here's the cool part: I can take my favorite book sections and magazine sections and put them together as Kindle books, instead of lugging then whole darn craft book around when all I wanted was that pattern. Same with my cookbooks. Sometimes you want only that one recipe from a cookbook, and then you could just store it out of the way, for all practical purposes.

More books and patterns are gradually being "Kindled" but generally not the out of print ones. I don't intend to share them online, but its nice to carry a whole library of books on my little iPhone.

Gee, I feel like Hermione Granger with that deceptively tiny handbag full of duffel bags of clothes, tents, and books. Lol

There's just one thing I need help with though: I need some kind of flat piece of very clear glass, to press pages flat while I make the scans, but without a shiny surface to glare back in my photos. Plexiglass?

Cursed Bloodsuckers

Okay, it was worse than I thought. I recall that a couple of weeks ago they went through my shirt, and a blanket I had wrapped around me, and through my bra, to attack my back. They could have gone for my legs, but no.

Last week they went up the legs of my shorts and bit my backside. It was literally a swollen bloody mess of bites and welts for several days. Don't ask for details. It was pretty gross.

This morning getting into the shower, I realized that they went for easily visible areas. My neck, my face, my shoulders, and my chest. Yeah, there too. Now that I've paid attention, they really got me.

You know, I've always though it odd that around west Tennessee, we have "bottom land". Well, in the springtime when we have near catastrophic flooding, anyone can drive by on the highway and see it for what it is. What I want to know is --

Why doesn't anyone ever mention that the town is in the middle of a freaking swamp?

I never hear the word swamp. but it's a SWAMP! Mosquitoes love swamps!!!


Handmade by me

And all made with recycled t-shirts. :). The sandals, of course, utilize manufactured flip flop soles. I'd have recycled them, but I didn't own any. I hate flip flops because that hard plastic or leather thong hurts between my toes. So I bought them and cut out the hateful hard plastic pieces. (Pinterest has the instructions. )

The rag rug was made from several different t-shirts that I turned into thick yarn. :). One was donated by a student, a couple were my own worn out blood donor shirts, and the rest I bought from the Union Mission Thrift Store for $1 each. Technically, I recycled them. They just weren't free to me. Lol But that's okay. They were donated to the Mission, after all.

I've been thinking about making some more rugs for sale. The first one was donated for a fundraiser, where It fetched the glorious sum of $12 for more than 5 days' work. :). No, I won't be selling any others that low. They'll be closer to $75, which is the usual price of a handmade rug around here.

Maybe I'll just post them on Facebook for a while and see what happens. A booth in the local craft mall would cost $80 a month, and I'm not sure I can make or sell enough at this point to spend that kind of money on a booth rental.

Blasted Bloodsuckers!!

Freaking mosquitoes already staked a claim on me, and it was in the house! While I was sleeping, no less.

It wasn't bad enough, oh no, for them to get my right arm several times. And this year I'm having a reaction. Welts swelling up in half of them.

Oh, but the icing on the cake -- the nailed the right side of my face too. On me that causes an almost instant infection. By the time I realize it has happened, it looks worse than acne would.

I wouldn't be surprised if I tested positive for bloody West Nile Virus. See, I said so the other day. Just because the mosquitoes aren't attacking you this year...

It doesn't mean they're gone, it just means they found ME first, and they definitely like my sweet blood when given a choice of humans.


I can't wear insect repellant all day, every day! Can I???

Death to all mosquitoes. Screw the food chain!!!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Planning for Travel Packing

I've been planning for this trip for about a year now. Probably seems a bit obsessive on packing, right? Well, if you plan ahead, you'll have few nasty surprises and time to get what you need.

This is what I've learned over the last 15 years about traveling. Pack as light as you possibly can. Leave the "just in case" stuff at home because 9 out of 10 times you won't need it. You will be happier with just one suitcase to lug around.

Take a tiny sewing kit because I've had clothes tear and I ALWAYS wind up with pressure blisters. (I have to puncture and drain mine carefully and try to make that bubble of skin stick back down, otherwise that loose skin tears completely off and I have a big open raw place. Pain, bleeding, infection, trouble walking.)

If you think about what you need calmly and far ahead of time, not only will you remember everything you need, but you will also figure out ways to get those items into the smallest possible packaging.

Do test runs with your travel sized toiletries and see if they will last as long as you need them to while you're at home. Then refill them. If your favorite shampoo doesn't come in a trial size bottle, buy something that does and mix it into your giant bottle of shampoo at home to avoid wasting it. Or wash your dog with it. Lol. Then refill the little bottle with the shampoo you like.

Make a packing list and stick to it. Use it when you come home to make sure you bring all your stuff back home.

This will be a new one for me: take old clothes and throw them away while you are traveling. Well, I upcycle t-shirts into rugs and shoes, but old undies... Yeah, not really reusable for anything once they get a bit tattered. You just have to throw that stuff away where nobody will feel the need to mail your "lost" clothes back home to you... At your cost.

Consider a change in your routine. I'm leaving the can of mousse behind and taking disposable packets of styling gel. (Already tested -- it'll work.) I'm going to use deodorant towelettes instead of a stick (they don't have what works for me in stick form and the container is always huuuuge anyway).
I don't think I'll be able to get away with not drying or curling my hair though. I try it every weekend and nothing I do keeps it from looking nasty. So I'm looking for a real travel curling iron and dryer. Half the size of my regular ones or smaller would be best. It would be nice to share with my roommate so we won't both have to carry it all. I guess I need to meet her and ask about it.

All reading material will be on Kindle on my iPhone. I'd love to take my iPad, but I'd worry about it being stolen, and keeping it charged on the go would be a hassle. Duracell backup batteries for my phone. I'm going to make a tear-off pad of my favorite paper puzzles, shrunk, so that when I finish a puzzle, I can throw it away and not have to deal with a big book of puzzles to lug around. And I can share puzzle pages too. :)

If you're reading this and sour-grape-ing about my "getting to go on this trip", consider that I'm paying over $3000 for the trip. I've been paying in installments for over a year. I would have LOVED for any friends or family to come with me, but I'm the ant and so many are grasshoppers -- and no, I'm not paying someone else's way. Grow up and pay your own way! Stop being a freeloader. I worked a LOT of overtime hours this year to pay for my trip. Nobody gave me anything. I even had to pay extra because I'm an adult.

Besides, it's a small consolation for me that I have a little available money for this, because I will never have children and it looks like I'm not going to be taking any romantic trips with a husband or even a boyfriend in this lifetime. I don't go on little weekend trips or vacations multiple times a year with my sweetie. (See above for clarification, LOL) So I'm going to do this for myself, and you can stop being jealous because you have benefits that I don't, and you have them every day. I am not going to wait for Prince Charming to show up before I enjoy my life. Cheers. ;)

Gelato, caffe, e prosciutto ;)

I just happened across several pages linking Venice touring tips and food. Hey, I'm planning to eat while I'm there, so I might as well learn the names of what appeals to me ahead of time, so I don't do my annoying usual indecisive ruminating over the memo.

I have had a true Italian espresso granita (in Philadelphia). And while I was grateful for the opportunity, I think I'd prefer just about any other flavor granita than concentrated coffee. I don't even drink "real" coffee by the cup. Yet. What I drink in the mornings is milk, instant coffee, and sugar free flavor syrup. No water included. I guess I'm a wimp, but I haven't yet learned to enjoy just plain old coffee. Macchiato is just espresso with a drop of milk. Lol. Ok, not that one. Marocchino or cappuccino will be my failsafes. Maybe a correto with Bailey's or Amaretto. Haha. Don't know if I can get away with that though.

Gelato. Mmmm ice cream. Well, very sweet ice milk, more likely. Stay away from the freaky colors and the chain stores. Check. If confused, I can slays fall back on chocolate, strawberry, or cherry.

Prosciutto e melone .... Haven't had that since the cruise, and I seriously loved it then. :). The only ham I really like. I forgot that it was a big Italian thing. Wow, I'm gonna have too much salt in my system at the end of this trip.

I think I need to start learning a little conversational Italian before the trip. Somehow I don't think menu basics will be enough. I'm good with languages, so I think I can handle it The question is, how do I learn this stuff? Phrasebook on Kindle?

Adam Ant Prototype T-Shirts and Tattoos

On Facebook it has been announced that he is selling 14 signed prototype t-shirts of an upcoming design to be widely sold. They're $156 / £ 100 each. Wow. Lol. Ouch!

People are biiiitching about it. ;). I think they are missing a few salient points. First, they're signed. Second, he may have designed them or even had a hand in painting them. (You never know-he's an accomplished graphic artist, after all.). Third, there will be cheap versions printed for the rabble.

Personally, I'd consider buying one. But I'd frame it. ;). Would never wear it, of course. I don't get where people are calling him greedy. Sheesh, he doesn't owe it to anybody to provide them with cheap clothes. None of us do.

He's a rock star, he works hard, he does a lot of stuff for other people already, so quit griping that you should be getting a one of a kind item at Walmart prices. Think of it as a piece of artwork. If you don't like the price, don't buy it, shut up about it, and wait for the cheap shirts to come out so you can start a petty squabble about these. Nobody ever said you had to buy one of these. Gosh. He deserves to get paid and oh well, these shirts cost more than the mass-produced ones. His concerts are a lot more affordable than most going around today.

As for me, well, if he ever autographed something like my shoulder, I'd get it tattooed on permanently. :). And I'm a person with NO tattoos or desire to have them. I just never thought of anything I would want on me forever, and I'm not in a rush to get some crappy something scarred onto me so I can think I'm cool like the rest of the people with tattoos. It's a commitment. I'd pay for quality over quantity.

To each his own, naturally, but I'll bet that as super trendy as tattoos are now, within ten years it'll be even more trendy to get rid of them -- especially as the substandard ones start to deteriorate.

Cousin Bubba's prison lined fine artistry won't please you forever, I'll bet. Probably the only people who will truly want to keep theirs will be the people who spent money for a true artist to ink them, and who continue to spend money having those tattoos refreshed periodically.

I'm just not that interested in tattoos. I can appreciate nice ones, but they don't really excite me. I'm not impressed with how touuuugh someone is because they have some tattoos. I'd be more impressed to see them as a regular blood donor.

Picture is just an impulsive sketch - I have a lot to learn about drawing, though I can't take the kind of classes I'd like to. But it was fun to sketch on my iPad. :). No, I'm not feeling any better, but the doodling did distract me before I once again fell asleep like a narcoleptic this afternoon.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Rumor control - a breed apart

I have a strong suspicion that a certain rumor is being perpetuated about me, by someone who has actually been doing rumor-worthy things.

I've kept this person's secrets my entire life. Yet they pretend to be my confidant and didn't hesitate to spill secrets of mine to others... For no other reason, it seems, than to entertain the listener. Possibly this was done just to make me look really bad and to therefore rise in the esteem of that listener and untold others.

A few days ago I was pumped for information about the cause of my current depressive episode, and prompted with a conspiratorial whisper that almost excitedly asked if it was all about a friend of mine going away.

Good freaking grief.

Well, I suppose that explains why this person's controversial new squeeze greeted me on our first meeting with questions that showed he clearly took this false tale to heart.

Why have this friend and I been "hanging out" some? At the foundation of it is likely pity for me, just doing me the favor of trying to break me out of my defensive little shell.

Interested in me?

Are you kidding?? Of course he wouldn't be, so it would show a bit of pity for me if those involved in it would kindly STOP spreading that rumor.

But tell the tale all you want if that's what you need to get excited. Perhaps it will distract everyone from seeing what you have actually been doing.

Just don't get all angry at me when your sensational little show never materializes.

And understand this is why I will never trust you again, and why I don't trust anyone else, either.

A line from The Last of the Mohicans keeps echoing in my head:

"He warned me about people like you.

He said, 'Do not try to understand them.'.

Yes, and he said, 'Do not try to make them understand you. That is because they are a breed apart and make no sense.'"

A breed apart.

Pepsi Next

Is not too bad. 100 calories in a big bottle. I think they finally heard me telling them to mix yucky Pepsi Max and Pepsi together, because that's what it tastes like....

It won't be on the market long. My liking a product is typically the kiss of death. :). I'm fairly surprised that I was able to purchase this product at the same time that the advertising campaign began.

I dont feel a thing (Just forget the darn apostrophes!)

To be more precise, I don't feel a bit... Different than I have since Thursday. I've been trying to explain that my "drunkenness" isn't due to any substance at all. I guess it would make more sense if I just called it dizziness and vertigo.

Vertigo because everything is tilting beneath me and dizziness because I'm just not breathing as much as I do when I don't feel like I'm in the twilight zone. A couple of times a minute, pretty much. Maybe lack of oxygen is what's making my toes purple too.

Did that make more sense, I hope?

I've had a couple of the jello shots, after a text conversation earlier today with a friend whose responses seemed tinged with disapproval.

No, I really don't drink through the week, and it's rare that I drink on the weekends, much to the disapproval of those who would like to laugh at me in their own usual condition. That's why two beers put me under the table. I'm eating jello. ;) Not drinking. Lol

And I don't intend to develop a better tolerance for it either, so stop trying to get me to drink.

Look, I'm sorry that I don't provide the kind of entertainment you were hoping for, and I apologize for being quiet and keeping to myself, if that makes you happy. Do I mean it? Heck no. I'm not going to alter my personality on your whim. I'm not a dancing monkey, even if I do tend to move like one.

My day was like swimming through molasses, if you want to know. I tuned out a lot. I wish I could have tuned everything out.

I think I'm too dizzy to drive to a ball game tonight. Last night I was asleep by this time, and I slept through the game, though I didn't intend to.

Another teacher has hired me to make her some of my cotton facecloths. The price I gave her didn't cone close to minimum wage for my work, but who would want to pay $5 or more for a handmade facecloth anyway? It's what the market will bear.

Strawberry Jello...

... Shots. That's what I made when I got home from my midnight shopping. I'll try them tomorrow If Tuesday is as bad as Monday was, I'll be trying many of them.

Now that I've put a little thought into it, I'm wondering if certain family members' alcoholism wasn't their attempt to cope with lifelong depression they weren't really capable of handling. But I can't exactly ask them about it, as they are both dead.

Instead of being the problem itself, maybe alcoholism was the symptom of something more insidious. Maybe they had the "black dog" stalking them all along.

It's not something I want to discuss with any of the "fair weather" folk in my life, because they just see it as an opportunity to think themselves superior.

Next person who tells me "I always knew there was something wrong with you (and I never cared enough to help)," is going to see me fake a violent streak long enough to hit them pretty damn hard. :).

Okay, I don't hit people, but the fantasy of that is comforting.

Still, what kind of a jerk does that make someone who looks down their nose at you like that? I know that in at least two cases, it came from sheer jealousy. Jealousy that they pretend I have had everything handed to me easily, while they ignored all the years of preparation, sacrifice, and work to get what little I have.

While they were out partying, I was researching and writing papers, and working two jobs to pay for a little food and tuition in college. And sometimes I hear them say that they are going to go get a degree or two, nonchalantly, as if it's all they'll have to do.

Piece of cake, right?

Well, how are they going to pay for it?

How are they going to study with "no time" for lowly people like me? (Ok, I get it that part is a lie for the sake of avoidance. You make time for what you want to do.)

How are they going to do their work, when they've been used to having someone else "help them out" with all school work?

When they expect someone to do their printing, typing, and research for them, when people like me finally turn a deaf ear?

If you thought it was hard going to college as an 18 year old fresh out of school, do you think a couple of decades will make it easy now that you have "responsibilities and bills"? News flash: even as an undergrad, I had responsibilities and bills. But I didn't have a boyfriend or husband at a home of my own waiting to make me feel like I wasn't swinging in the wind. Having someone behind you is what makes it easier. Try it all on your own, with so many hoping to see you fail.

A mere hour away from home, my dad visited me at school four times during my last two years. That's it for ... Well, my entire family.

My two friends were always with their various boyfriends, or being in plays. One of those friends spent an entire semester publicly making out with my ex-boyfriend every time they saw me, apparently trying to make me jealous. But I didn't want him back once I knew where he had been. I told him that the night he broke up with me for not having sex with him. (I was 17... I had every right to say no if i didn't want to. And it made me angry to have him constantly trying to guilt and pressure me into it.)

The girl he dumped me for was a tramp. Ick. Talk about unclean. (Motel room + 4 guys... You decide.) Besides, I would never go after a friend's ex. You just don't do that.

A pity that she couldn't understand that a few years later when a different boyfriend of hers showed up on my doorstep, obviously having imagined I was longing for him. Eww. No way. Too greasy to be my type I didn't even want to be hospitable enough to let him come into my living room. He was creepy. He was absolutely delusional to think I wanted anything to do with him. And for that matter, so was she. So I told her, though he tried to "finesse" me into keeping it "our secret". He said she just wouldn't understand. I told him *I* didn't understand and told him to leave. I still don't know how he knew where I lived.

She didn't speak to me for years after I told her what he tried. Then she told me she FORGAVE (the nerve...) me when she caught him cheating on her. Then she married him. She still gives me the impression that she'd rather spit on me than wave, but I suppose she will just have to be that way.

Now with my ex-boyfriend, it's pretty obvious what would have happened if I had given in. He would have dumped me the minute Miss I'm Still In Love With Her poked her dirty little nose back in. And there I would have been, just another high school cliche.

I'm not happy, per se, but that's not the cause of it. However, at least I'm not regretting doing THAT with him.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Bug Spray and Breakfast Bars

They top my list of the things I need to buy tonight before I go to bed. I've already been asleep for nearly four hours though. I don't remember going to sleep; I just kinda passed out. I intended to go to my nephew's ball game, but I slept through it and sometime in the middle I did a zombie sleepwalk through the house to let my dog outside.

I wish I could say that I felt better, but I don't. I woke up feeling just as dead inside as ever, and having trouble carrying on socially acceptable conversations. I apologize for not being comfortably cheerful, and I'll do my best not to say any more out loud, because I can't make anyone understand me anyway. It seems like I'm speaking a different language than everyone else.

Maybe my little sector of the matrix was corrupted by a computer virus or something. It reminds me of the time my Mac at work got hit with the Melissa virus and I started thinking I had gone insane. Lol. It was a little funny, after the problem had been found and fixed. But suspecting I was crazy wasn't pleasant at all.

This isn't crazy, but my brain certainly seems to be intent upon hibernating.

If I'd gone to the ballpark without putting a bunch of bug spray on, the mosquitoes would have swarmed me anyway. I thought it was ironic that someone said today we weren't going to have any mosquitoes this year; mosquitoes have been eating me alive for weeks now. He can have all of mine, if he wants them. I'm an attractor. Yep, the creepy things still go after me first. Applies in more ways than just insectoid bloodsuckers, too.

I have to remember the protein bars because they are my usual breakfast. And pretty often they're my dinner too, because I don't feel like cooking. Or eating.

The people who have seen me the past two days haven't really noticed something is wrong with me. I don't blame them. It might mean they would have to expend some kind of effort in my direction if they did. And they all have more important things to do than do more than an obligatory surface scan.

It's worked just fine since I was a little girl: they ask how you are, you lie and tell them "fine" like you do the people at work, and then they don't have to actually check to see if it's a lie because they did their duty in asking. Like a grocery store that puts a bunch of past-prime meat under a layer of pink, fresh meat to trick the buyers. How unpleasant it would be to see something is decaying so close to the survface.

Since there are no humans dependent upon me, there are no humans who have to keep a check on me. It makes them happy not to have to deal with it anyway. More time for themselves, which means more time for them to think of what all I can be doing for them. I sluggishly float back into existence when I'm useful again.

No. I'm done being considered support staff. I quit. I'll sleep more. I can't cope with this stuff anyhow But I *can* sleep the rest of my waking hours away.