little_tristan: (Kitten Monster)
I spent the morning in chat with [personal profile] valis2, who designed the most beautiful jewelry for me to give as Christmas gifts. If you haven't visited her shops, you probably should. If you wear jewelry or like beads, that is. I'm terribly excited about giving these pieces to the people they were made for. Custom jewelry is the best.

NaNo and its unaffiliated Mini Challenge are over so I'm going back to writing in my random, haphazard way. Never having worried about word counts before, I'm interested in seeing if I do more or less work without the mild pressure.

Self-imposed goals might be good. But feeling like a failure because the muse wasn't there and I didn't reach the goal, or I wrote badly for the sake of getting more words on paper, would be bad. Feast or famine, it's a fine line.

I've pretty much given up my book goal for the year. I'd have to read a book a day from now til the end of the year and that's not going to happen. Unless I read all the Star Trek: TOS novels on the shelf. I could probably do two or three of those a day. But they aren't what I want to read right now. Quality tops quantity once again.

Yesterday I saw a Criminal Minds ep from S5 that I've never seen before. 4 to 8 episodes a day on two different channels and I'm still finding new ones on the DVD. It's fun trying to guess why certain ones aren't aired. This one is about an outbreak of suicides among high school kids in neighboring towns. Is it the teen suicide angle? The identity of the unsub? Garcia's hair? (I adore her, but does she start getting ready at three to be at work by eight?)

It'll never be one of my favorites, though, because they're all mean to Reid on the plane going home, listing things they hate about him. He looks so sad and no one even apologizes.

I can't wait to get to S6. I know I'm missing a lot there. And one that I have seen is one of my favorites.

We stayed up a little late last night, since we were sleeping in a bit this morning. But I ruined it by getting sick after about 3 hours' sleep. Lately I've been haunted by a mild, lingering sense of nausea. Possibly from smoking so little pot this last week. Mark dragged me out of bed so I could throw up for a while and smoke a bowl, and then we went back to sleep. It was very strange.

Possibly the strangest part was that when I first woke up, Big Orange Roy was catloafing on my ribs and shoulder, in what has always been Murphy's place. Murphy was on the pillow when we went to bed, but he decided not to stay. He doesn't move to my side very often anymore, probably because of his balance problems.

What's weird is that no cat besides Murphy has even slept on me like that before. Roy's lived with us for 12 years and I never would have guessed that he even wanted to. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe it's just a status thing.

People are supposed to like animals because they look up to us like gods. I've always found that rather awkward. I wonder if that's how God feels when people fight over religion. I'm big enough for all the cats to sleep on, but they don't want to share.

And the dogs are even worse.
little_tristan: (Steve Dallas)
But right now it's really sunny. Yesterday was hot. We went to Walgreens and I rediscovered my capacity for rage when a big old dudebro in cheap sunglasses cut in front of me in line and the clerk let him. So I have emotions again. That's good. Then there was sitting in the backyard reading while Steve did something really cool with a nice cut of beef. I think it was a loin but he made it into little marinated steaks. It was awesome.

It was still really warm and sunny after so Steve and I went over to the park and he showed me how to play disc golf. Which I can never, ever actually do, but he's really good and it's fun to watch. If it doesn't rain today we might go again. I like being outside.

Apparently the book club appearance I'm supposed to do is this weekend. Heather kept reminding me about it but I just wasn't getting how close it was. Good time to clear my head, right? But I'm not thinking about it too much. Not a good time for more stress.
little_tristan: (Default)
Also, I'm sick. It must be allergies, although it's different from allergies I've had in the past. My right eye hurts. Not all the time, just when I look at things. When I rotate my eyeball in its socket it feels like stabbing hot needles. And now the bones under it hurt. It's making me very tired and disinterested in most everything.

However, I had a pretty good week. Steve, either because he felt bad or because his side project is going well and he's happy, was downright pleasant all week. I tried to leave him alone as much as possible, but he sought out my company on at least two occasions. Friday his girlfriend and her kids were here all day and he took us out to lunch. I had quiche.

Two things I learned at lunch on Friday. One: Old people write about how great it is to be a little kid, discovering a new world of magic and wonder every day, but that's because they're old. Actual kids are bored shitless most of the time. All they do is wait for adults who are busy doing endless boring adult stuff and having conversations they can't understand. Two: There's a reason you don't take kids under eight to restaurants with silverware on the table. Actually there are a lot of reasons. Boredom is at least three of them.

This evening we're going up to Portland to buy a stove we saw on Craigslist. It's exactly like the one we have (which we got at a yard sale 9 or 10 years ago), only ours is kind of dead. At least three of the four burner igniters are broken so we have to turn on the gas and flick a Bic. We get burned a lot. Then, last year, one hinge broke on the broiler door so it was always kind of hanging open. We put up with it until a couple weeks ago when I backed into it and ripped the whole thing off. It's seriously screwing with the temperature, and last night it fell off again while Russ was baking potatoes and melted the linoleum floor. None of this is good for my eye.

Neither is using the computer, but I'm still trying to catch up on my flist. I miss you.
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
But I had to pop by and say Thank You! for all the lovely birthday messages and v-gifts and pretty sparkly things! Sadly, there was no cake. But there were snickerdoodles and ebooks and a visit with my sister.

Thank you again, everybody. I love you all.
little_tristan: (Puppy Upside Down Willow)
But it could have been worse. Long version of the story: The other day I was out on the front porch smoking (because I don't allow it in the house, except in Mark's man-cave office). I was gone 5-10 minutes, and when I came back in, the arch-nemesis was in the kitchen/dining room doorway beating Willow with his cane. I started screaming at him, telling him for the millionth time that that kind of behavior is just making things worse (he tries to close the half door by waving his cane around in the dining room (her territory) and hooking the door to pull it shut, which she also hates) and he went off me. There was a lot of shrieking about how I'M the one making it worse (now?) by not having trained her better from the beginning, and it's all my fault that she's a vicious bitch who deserves to die.

Sadly, Steve was out on the side steps having his own cigarette and telephone break (he likes privacy when he talks to his friends, which is totally his right) so he missed the whole thing. I took Will into my room and put up the baby gate, which she's terrified of because she hates inanimate objects that move when she touches them, and stayed in there crying like a fool until Steve came and found us. I told him what happened and explained that it's so awful because "Willow is our puppy of life and hope. Everyone died last year and Willow is the only good thing that came out of that whole God-awful mess (well, and you, of course)." Which made him go all shy and adorable, and eventually got me a hug. He said he couldn't talk to the a-n about it because it's not his place, but he would be willing to talk to the boys about the effect it's having on me (near hysteria), because that's unacceptable. I asked him not to because they know what the problem is and told me to handle it. And venting to Steve did make me feel better.

The next day, I found Doc's old Gentle Leader out in the shop and put it on Willow. She now wears in all day, until the boys come home at least, so I can keep her on a leash and not keep wrecking my arm like I was doing with the collar leash. She does pretty well with it and is with either me or Steve at all times, so she's safe. I also wrote the a-n a lengthy and rather hostile letter telling him she won't be running loose so he can just back the fuck off and leave her the fuck alone.
You can read it here if you want. )

Which brings me to my elbow. This morning when the boys left, I decided to play with Will for a while before putting the halter on. I was throwing her rubber bone and she was bringing it back, having a really great time. Right up until the fourth throw, when she brought it to me and then started playing keep away. I'd reach for it and she'd lower her head or drop it altogether, then hold it up and lower it when I reached again. It was on the third reach that I suddenly lost my balance and remembered as I fell that I hadn't put my seatbelt on. It's such an automatic action, the minute I'm dressed and sitting down I buckle up, but I totally forgot today.

Luckily Willow didn't know what was happening (is she coming down here to play with me?!?), so I landed pretty squarely on her with the right side of my body. This is good because my right shoulder is already nine kinds of fucked, so I rolled off her and landed on my left side. It was loud and scary and I hit my head. I also left my phone in its pocket on my chair, and since I can't sit up at all, it may as well have been on the roof with a dead battery. This being ten (TEN!) minutes after the boys left, and Steve being in the habit of sleeping til seven or eight, I had to make a LOT of noise to wake him up. It took about half an hour of shouting and other things (the third thing he said, after "What happened?" and "Are you okay?" was "Where did the video tapes come from?" My answer? "It was all I could reach and I was pounding them on the floor.") but he very promptly rescued me. He's a small man, maybe 5'6" and definitely weighs less than me, and has a sore back, but he refused to call the fire department for help and did an astounding job of picking up my enormous ass and getting it back into my chair. I gave him a Vicodin after and he said it helped.

So it was kind of my lucky day, even though my left elbow and knee are beautifully bruised. But don't worry, Willow is fine.
little_tristan: (Steve Dallas)
I can't fully squee because the big discussions haven't actually started, but I've had two little ones and they're trending in the right direction. I just want to share a little now in case it doesn't happen. For this morning, I was happy.

I might be getting my very own, full-time, live-in, caregiver/housekeeper/handyman/battler of the arch-nemesis! Apparently this person actively wants to give up his life in the big city and live in our basement for no money. Yeah, that sounds weird to me, too, but I've known him for a while now and his references are impeccable, so maybe he just wants a change of scene. And we're pretty open to accepting gift horses, so long as they aren't made of wood.:)

All we really need is Bruder's approval (I don't intend on asking the a-n, since he doesn't get a vote) and, uh, someplace for him to sleep. Cleaning the basement will probably be his first job.

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