The problem with not taking time to write is that you end up with lots of crap to talk about. So I’ll try to be concise (ha).
Dim sum on saturday to celebrate chinese new years. The food was excellent and I gorged myself on tiny dumplings and little ribs and sticky buns. They had the lion dancers in there, so much fun. I always thought they were dragn dancers, but, it seems I was wrong. They’re lions. Who knew? The chinese knew, I guess.
I’m falling in love with The Demeberists all over again. Incredible lyrics, simply stunning wordfucking. Similar to Mike Doughty but evocative of entirely different realms. Am I in love? Well, I do want to take their Picaresque cd, nail it to the floor and rub my caramel covered body all over it. you tell me.
Ultra super muddy dogpark and the happiest little fella in the world. happiest until he got home and got a throrough bath including his ears and between his toes.
King Kong! HA! YEAH! If you completely turn off the logic part of your brain, this is an incredibly fun movie to watch. Once you start thinking logically, it all goes to hell. Kong and his family lived in the temple/cave thing for generations and yet none of them thought to do anything about the giant bat infestation??? On the other hand, it was completely retarded but I loved the t-rex trapeze artistry!
Midnight cheeseburger at Denny’s and I wasn’t even drunk!
Sunday was lay in bed listening to Prairie Home Companion and Car Talk with the boy then soaking in the tub and eating pizza. Made miso soup with udon and wakame for dinner, hot fudge sundae cake for dessert and a loaf of sundried tomato bread for lunches.
Monday I found out a secret that has me bursting at the seams with happy but I can’t tell anyone at work yet. There’s a lot of crocheting in my future.
Today is Ghengis’ birthday. He’s 2. He has graduated from apprentice fella-ship to full fledged fella! I am so proud.
On my countertop right now I have a crock pot with a cooling chuck roast, a bread machine making honey-oat-wheat bread and a rice machine making…well..rice. The chuck roast will get divided (all the goo and fat fed to Ghengis as a birthday celebration) and used in my lunches. Tomorrow’s lunch will likely be shredded beef on rice with salsa verde and a slice of tomato bread. and so on.
I’ve been feeling very nesty and domestic lately. What’s up with that? Wish I could improve my cleaning skills, but I’ve learned not to stress. I need to finish my next scarf by Saturday AND get 2 scarves in the mail to canada AND finish the new website migration so I can start making little beaded bags and filet lace.
This morning I realized it was only Tuesday. Shit. Thought it was Thursday for some reason. Kind of put a damper on the day. Day dampened until I got home and found that David had picked up some salsa verde for me! He expressed concern that the last source in town for Herdez Salsa Verde might also be running out…
I hope this wasn’t too long or jam packed.

I need an incentive to get the new site done. I really hate my host and I need to get migrated and everything has been sitting in stasis since fall (though I have a good excuse). So I need me a goal.
I think I cannot buy crochet thread and beads until I get the old stuff migrated which means that I cannot make the cutest little beaded purse until I get it done.
Mark, are you reading this? I’m moving forward and I’m lighting a fire under your butt as well! Normally, I would not light fires under the butts of my friends, but you know, this has to be done and all that! Let me know what you need from me.
Also, David is downstairs making loon noises and the dogs are going crazy up here.

1) to all those people who whine about global warming, all I have to say is, “go back to the moon you fucking hippies!”. It was 46 degrees today in the middle of January. It smelled like spring. I give it 2 years, maybe 3, before the ocean creeps across the country and stops at the Mississippi River. At that time I will live less than a mile from the ocean and will hopefully have pelicans living in my back yard. See, I don’t have to move out east, I can be patient and the ocean will come to me. The ocean is coming to me!!!
2) I check the stats on my site about once or twice a week. Nothing terribly exciting, mostly I’m interested in seeing which search terms got people here (why! why, if you already know the url would you put it in the search box?? People, that just does not make sense!!!!) and where I’m linked from. Most links are ones I know about, friend’s sites or comments I have left places. A few are perplexing, I’m linked on a rock band’s site. Of course my favorites are when I’m linked on pages that are secret or blocked or password protected. OOOOH!!! Super secret hidden!! What sort of shenanigans are afoot that I would be mentioned in such a secretive setting??
3) I’ve eaten far too much today and none of it any good. I need to only eat good things from now on. I don’t mean good-for-me things, just things that taste good. There are a finite number of meals left in my life, I should love each one.
4) Obligatory dog update…Ghengis has another ear infection, 5 drops twice a day should clear that up. Maddie still stares at me with undying affection. Her foot is healing beautifully. Still trying to coordinate a Milo-Ghengis play summit.
5) I found my camera cable! Go me! Now I can get more pictures going. HUZZAH!
6) anyone wanna go to chicago with me? I need to go to Trader Joes!

People ask me with regularity why I don’t write a book, or they suggest that I should, or they demand it. Or whatever. The subject comes up. Invariably I answer “because my constitution isn’t strong enough for alcoholism”, trying to conjure images of say Dashiel Hammet pounding away at his trusty Underwood will pounding away at his trusty bottle of rye.
You know what I mean.
and of course it should be noted that this website is not the only example in existence of my writing. So before you think “christ, the only thing this bitch can write about is dogs and her own butt” think again.
No, wait, you might be right. I enjoy writing. Or more specifically, I enjoy words. I love a dry wit and a good turn of phrase, I love wordplay. I love people who not only write well, but creatively and with passion.
but it’s not enough to be able to fingerfuck the english language into a fenzied orgasm. A good turn of phrase, like a pretty smile or a good pair of tits will really only get you so far.
The real reason why I do not want to write a novel is because, quite honestly, I have nothing to write about. Anything I do write would probably be as interesting as one of those Oprah book club emo-fests. You know the ones where ‘stark circumstances’ and ‘inner strength’ become emotional crutches for the wiener set?
Or even worse, I could totally see me writing one of those terrible chick-lit books with the garrish pink cover and the woozily stylized drawing of sunglasses or flip-flops. Yeah, fuck that.
So, what I’m saying is that I recognize in advance the utter lack of meaningful story in my head. I think Norman Mailer recently said that the great american novel is dead, and I think he might be right.
Or at least mine is.

I’m so addicted to my bread machine. It’s making dough for whole wheat buns so I can bring my lunch to work and save money and stop eating the crap in the cafeteria. This is the fourth thing I’ve made with it since sunday. I’m a nutball for the bread.
Today’s one of those days. I was completely hyper most of the day, but entirely unfocused. I destroyed an important excel document because of my full on a-tardation. Had to email my boss and ask him for his copy. I’m so dumb.
The other night, after I fell down, i noticed that I had scraped my wrist a bit. Then I noticed the bump. Back in ’95 I developed a ganglion cyst in my wrist right at the point where my median nerve enters the dreaded carpal tunnel (I just like to call it dreaded). My lack of insurance meant I had no real medical options at the time. I had to let it go for almost 2 years before I got insurance (yay for living in one of the wealthiest countries in the world!! I’m lucky it was just a cyst, I’d hate to see what would’ve happened if I truly got sick). In that time it grew and it pressed the nerve against the tendon and caused some damage. To this day I still get tingly fingers and I can’t quite open my thumb all the way.
I had surgery and assumed that day surgery meant super fantastico easy. Jesus, no. I was out of work for a week just dealing with the pain and the pain killers and the sheer exhaustion. then I had my hand in a cast for about a month, during which time I COULD type, but it would make my hand go numb.
Anyway, the lump is back. I’m not thrilled about it. The options, as laid out to me before were to drain it and have it come back frequently, or remove it.
I’ll keep you posted on what the doctor says. I mean, I could use a week off work, but I prefer it be for fun and not involve garbage bags on my arm during showers and trying to wipe my ass with the wrong hand (try it sometime, it’s not as easy as you think).