Sunday, September 28, 2008

the urban sombrero

So I was browsing through blogs the other day and found "adixiecup" whose blog I've added to my good stuff column. She gave the link for a site called polyvore.com . It lets you make up and design "sets". I think I may have found my calling. As in, " I am a self-proclaimed genius and polyvore is my new calling." At any rate, I'm feeling like J. Peterman.

Tomorrow is my last day of work and then I'm off for 10 whole days. I could weep.

It's rained all week-end. I'm mostly packed and am now the owner of a few new hole-less t-shirts.

The Dresser-Palmer will be my new home for the majority of the coming week.

The Dresser Palmer House


Saturday, September 27, 2008

Happy Birthday to John! We ate Mexican food and tiramisu and tin roof sundae ice cream. I heart birthdays. Tomorrow we go to our nephew Mason's birthday party and then maybe to a movie. Then I have to pack and prepare because I leave Tuesday morning. Am conflicted, per usual. Super excited to be going, but I'm already missing John. Of course the moment I return he'll do something to annoy the piss out of me and I'll wish I was ohm-ing on a rock by myself somewhere.

Books I'm reading: Nuthin'. I think I may be developing adult onset ADD. I really don't know what my damn deal is. John called me a rabble-rouser. I don't feel like I have a problem with authority, I just have a problem with rules for the sake of conformity. Just to keep us all in the herd. I love sheep. They're pretty and soft and sweet. They make lovely noises. But I don't fancy being one. I'm not so much a rule breaker as I am a nudger. It's just all so demeaning.
And this has nothing to do with the books I'm not reading. More like the buttons I keep pushing.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

What a crap-ass day. It wasn't even 8am and I was already plotting my exit. I managed to stick to it. Bad decision. So then I was planning on calling in tomorrow. Only I can't really afford it and I'm going on vacation next week and I know I'll regret the lack of cash then. One of those days that makes me wish I had an alcohol problem. Then I could blame the booze.


Happy news: Lenny, one of our outside kitties, has finally fallen under my spell. It wasn't easy, but my powers of seduction finally bested his feline fears. I AM the cat whisperer dammit.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

when I get like this

I've been rearranging my playlist (on the left). Seem to be in a funky/soul sorta mood. Doing a whole lot of head-bobbing and arm waving from the computer chair. Shakin' it like a Polaroid picture.

My vacation begins in less than 2 weeks. 13 days. Wendy called last night and she said she's so excited she wishes she could start packing. Me too. I am absolutely fa-reakin' ready to jet. I even suffered through another cortisone shot in my right hoof just so I could be in tip-top walking shape. I'm prepared to plow my way through cemeteries and across brick streets and sidewalks and sandy gardens and whatever else we happen to stumble upon.

Still semi-reading that Brad Meltzer book. Also reading "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter". A little piece of my soul drowns in tears every time I read that book so I have to limit it to once a decade.

Sunday, September 14, 2008



A blurry picture of my veggie burrito at the new Mexican restaurant in Putnam. Delicious.

I've been writing nearly exclusively with the Pilot Precise V5 fine point purple pen since I was 17. Over the years it's become more and more difficult to find them so I tend to buy them in multiples. And then they went and changed the design so that it doesn't write exactly the same way it once did. Then I found the V5 retractable in black. I'll use it to jot down notes on post its or whatever. But lo... I have discovered that it comes in purple. *cue the chorus of angels* I don't own one yet. Only because I'll have to order it on-line and there's something anti-climactic about that. That and I have to talk myself into paying $7 for shipping/handling. For a $2.64 pen. I still think it's mighty purdy.
It's raining. Yesterday I finally got my hair fixed. As in: My hair is broken please fix it. So Rachel, my hair-friend, worked her mojo and now I feel like me again. When I'm feeling a bit more photogenic I'll gussy up and post a pic. That was all I did. Lately I've been sort of addicted to Pogo.com. It's an old lady game playing site. I can't say that I love it. I will say that I can't go a day without playing such high-brow games as "Stack 'em" and "Sweet Tooth".

Friday, September 12, 2008


What I've been doing: Suffering from allergy/migraine/body aches. And the foot hurts again. So I have an appointment with the podiatrist next week. So that sucks. But on the happy side we got a brandy-new mattress. Sleeps like a dream. John's resting a lot better which means I'm resting a lot better. Peaceful. Now if we could just keep the cats off the roof. They chase one another across the length of the house regularly between the hours of 9:30pm and 12:30pm.

John flings open the front door yelling "Knock it off you damn kids!". And 30 seconds later they're up there again like a herd of squirrels. If they weren't so flippin' cute I'd... oh hell... who am I kidding? No I wouldn't. Meanwhile, life as an inside cat isn't quite so swell. Bea's been scratching raw, scabby places around her neck. Allergies. Yesterday she got a dose of steroids. She hissed at the vet 3 times but only smacked her once. That's okay though, because she hasn't scratched once today.


What I'm reading: "Book of Fate" by Brad Meltzer.

I do love Fall. Crispy and smokey and biting. Like bacon. My favorite thing about living in New England is that Fall is such a distinct season. Apples and pumpkins. That bite in the air. Soup weather. Hiking in the woods without having to swat at skeeters.
Granted, the picture on the left wasn't taken in Autumn or in New England. It was taken in December in Southport, NC. But I thought the gourds were a lovely nod.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

MR2


This is MR2. She came to visit us in late Spring and we fed her. And she came back to visit very often. Sometimes she brought her paramour and we fed him too. And about a month or so later she brought their 3 babies. And we fed them too. And a couple of weeks later she brought her sister and her sister's 3 babies and we fed them too.
That's 9 cats. The only one who would allow us to occasionally touch her was MR2. And the only time the others would allow themselves to be touched was with her around. In the morning, I would open the door to head out to work and she'd be in the apple tree or hanging out on the porch. And she'd squeak at us and we'd coo over her. At night John and I would lie in bed and worry about getting our hands on her long enough to have her spayed.
Last week, our neighbor found her little body in the road in front of his house. He buried her and said she was quite heavy. Which confirms our suspicions that she was pregnant, again.
So now we're foster parents. Her babies, " the babies", as we've called them all summer, aren't really babies anymore. They're long and lanky and though they'll eat out of my hands, I fear I'll never be able to pet them.