Reviews, Recipes, and Random Slices of Life

I dreamt that I was part of a group of people told to pray at gunpoint. I began the Arabic prayer, "Allahu akhbar...." We're all People of the Book.

Post-it note on coffee maker at work (approx.): "It's a bad idea to leave the coffee pot on when it's empty. Just sayin'." The note doesn't work. Pot of crusted, burnt coffee when I got in to work this morning. Again.

Last week I found a tie discarded in the gutter. I put it on a parking meter. It's still there.

11:45 a.m. Bus slows to a halt twenty feet before its stop. Honks vigorously. Finally, disdainfully, a pigeon flies away from its resting point four inches in front of the bus' tire.

Gained lots of interesting new information in response to the reverse vegetarianism question. I now feel like I've got a much better grasp on the various vegetarian alternatives...and what alternatives I can use for those alternatives. (Say that ten times fast!) On the other hand, the image of "vegans raiding Ground Zero and eating all the outfits" is downright terrifying.

I propose a new homily: "Too many irons smother the fire."

The denouement bites cat ass. How's that for literary criticism?

( Birds, Ice Mother writing, and odd discussions )

Watching a squirrel sunbathe is remarkably restful, even though I did start to wonder whether he was actually dead.

Though I love clouds and gray days, they lasted for too long. The sight of blue sky gladdens my heart. I suppose that makes me fickle.

The cat's are all like, "Sun? What the hell's that?" Nameless has taken to prowling windowsills, and Foundling flops down on the hardwood floor in the middle of patches of sun.

Huh. Just called 911 on "some dude just climbed in through the window of that house across the alley."

And as quickly as it came, the blue sky seems to be going away.

Writing a scene involving blueberry pancakes makes me really want to make blueberry pancakes. Unfortunately, I have no blueberries. Curse you, grocery-shopping man!

Curry's even better the second day. Tasty redcurrymushroomsbeefpeasbambooshootscrushedtomatos. Mmm.

( And after lunch.... )

Felt very productive and accomplished at work today. This is rare, and to be noted.

Beneath manhole covers, I heard the rushing of melted snow hurrying away. It was a good sound. I was tempted to wear a lightweight coat today to celebrate the onset of spring, but that would have been a Bad Idea.

Got back three rolls of film today. I am Excited. I have Pretty Pictures. (P.S. Stop nagging me to set up a Flickr photostream--I'm on dial-up, and it takes forever for me to load. Which is my way of saying that I've been thinking about it.) Really annoyed with the errant eyelash or whatever that has meant all my photos have a little shadowed swoop in the corner. Think I might have gotten it out last time I changed film, but I've thought that before.

Confirmed that I'm not testing this weekend either. Good: I wasn't ready, and certain of my kicks really suck. Bad: I'm now in a class of my own (as always, and actually how I work best) and behind the others. I'm expected to determine when I'm ready to test and confirm it with the Inst. Though I hide it really well, I'm a perfectionist. The Ice Bitch is hungry because I've starved her for such a long time; I see her behind my eyes when I look in the mirror. She thinks I'm dinner. Conclusion: twenty spin kicks and twenty jump-spin kicks a night until I get it right. Or injure myself horribly by careening into walls because I'm dizzy.

Since I've been working full-time, I haven't been able to write much creatively, and it's making me jittery. Also feeling post-partum loathing of Vicesteed. When I have babies, you'll all watch me very, very closely to make sure I don't drown them in the tub, yes?

The twelfth day of Christmas may not yet have come and gone, but I am surrounded by the signs that the end time is nigh. Santa hats have vanished from the population. Snowmen have gone anorexic, flaunting sickly skeletons of leaves and twigs. Plastic light-up Santas lie on their sides, their lights burnt out, and nobody cares. Nobody smiles when they see twinkle lights on trees and lampposts, not anymore. The season of smiles has gone, and all we have left is the grim trudge to Spring, through slush and mud and cold and illness.

Except...I am growing a pot of paperwhites in my study, so Spring will visit me early.