Ornamental.

So, having said I hate decorating the tree I also have to say that I do have a lot of really lovely ornaments (less the ones that were smashed on that fateful night). My mother has been giving me ornaments since I was a very little girl, so a lot of them seem to apply to another life. Lots of ballerinas. Lots of pink. Lots of cats. So maybe not another life, since I still love all those things (although (random side note) I didn’t have a cat until I was an adult. My father swore he hated cats and that there was no way he would allow me to have one. So instead, I was given every object ever to be adorned by a representation of a cat, ornaments, stationary, mugs, you name it. (Further random side note) When I finally did get a cat, my father appeared to be the one who loved her most. He taught her to bark. Seriously. When he was visiting a few weeks ago, he sought the cat out to pet her and bark at her. Seriously.)

Where was I?

Ornaments. I sorted them out and kind of left some of the random teddy bears and kitty cats and ballerinas in the box this year and just put up my favorites. Same for the husband, although most of his ornaments were passed down through the family.

So when the tree was finally decorated the other night, I took a few photos of my favorites. I am kind of surprised that they are all commercially made. I have a lot of lovely hand made ornaments but these, for some reason, really seem to sum up my ornamental life:
Paddington Bear was my first British love. Even though he’s Peruvian. I didn’t look for a date on this ornament but I suspect it is around the same time that I was actually reading Paddington books, which I still love. And just the other day I happened across some mystery books by the man who created Paddington that I have decided to take with me for the Christmas vacation.


Hellboy is a recent acquisition. My brother and his family gave him to me for Christmas last year. He (Hellboy, not my brother) has a moody little half-lit grotto near the bottom of the tree and he makes me oddly happy. I guess I just love the fact that there is a demon type on my tree. Just the other day I was in the drugstore eavesdropping on two cashiers as they discussed their decorating plans. I sided with the girl who wanted a black tree with little skulls all over it. Hellboy will do for now. Oh how I love him.

My stegosauruses…well, who doesn’t love a Christmas dinosaur? Stegosaurus has always been my favorite of the old guys and somehow I have managed to get not one, not two but THREE of them on my tree (the third one is too reflective so I didn’t take a photo). It makes me absurdly happy that I have three stegos, if you happen across anymore please let me know.

The Joan Walsh Anglund ball…well, JWA is an artist who I think was particularly popular during my childhood. I have always loved her simple lines and sweet faces but it was only as I was hanging ornaments this year that I realized that what really appealed to me about her art is the lack of mouth. Weird hunh? But I am also very fond of Hello Kitty and she is also mouthless. But I don’t have a Hello Kitty ornament. But looking at JWA’s art again made me realize how much my own was influenced by having her books around when I was a kid. I still really like her art. It’s cute, almost too cute. But the clean style makes up for any sappiness in my eyes.

Finally…I said that I put away some of the ornaments that I felt represented my earlier life. But I had to keep the unicorns. Who doesn’t love unicorns? I only found two in the boxes but I have a sneaking suspicion that there are more hidden away somewhere. Look, I am a child of the 80’s. There HAS to be unicorns.

I have a lot of beautiful ornaments (including one made by my great-grandmother), I have a lot of really cute handmade ornaments, mostly chosen for their quirkiness. But for some reason it is these few mass-produced decorations that caught my eye and made me smile while I was swearing about how much I hate decorating the Christmas tree. Go figure.

O Christmas tree.

Here is my big holiday secret. Because it’s the holidays now, right? Or did they start last week? Or right after Halloween? Before Halloween? Whatever. It’s the holidays so here is a holiday story. Well, it’s a holiday confession AND THEN a holiday story. Of sorts.

Confession first. I like Christmas trees. Pretty, shiny. What’s not to like? I’ll tell you what’s not to like. Decorating them! OH GOD JUST TAKE ME NOW!! I seriously find no pleasure in decorating a Christmas tree. I know that there are people out there that I can pay to decorate mine and someday, when I actually have money, I fully intend to do that. I know it should be some “dahoo-doris” holding hands around the tree kind of thing. It should be sentimental and lovely and there should be carols on the radio and the smell of gingerbread and hot chocolate in the air but really what you end up with is the sound of me swearing like a sailor and the smell of must and dust in the air. It’s miserable and, as far as I am concerned, only marginally worth it. And the cat just eats the tree anyway. I don’t know why, it’s plastic, but she will gnaw on it continually until January.

I hate it.

And as if that weren’t enough, here is my Christmas tree story:

When I moved into my very first, big girl apartment, with my BFF, at a much older age than I would like to admit, we decided that we would do Christmas big. We would decorate the whole (beautiful Victorian) place and have a REAL Christmas tree. The kind that you go out and buy at a lot! The kind that doesn’t come in a box. The kind that you have to water everyday and it still becomes a fire hazard within twenty minutes. The kind that will shed needles in your car that you will still be finding ten years later (seriously), the kind that has a stand that no matter how well you try to protect your floors will leave a freaky stain. But I think I am showing my cards here. I’ve already stated that I don’t like the whole Christmas tree she-bang and this tree was pretty much where I realized that.

Anyway, we got in the car and drove to the lot on a very cold December night. I knew that my night wasn’t really going to go all that well when I woke up. Not in bed. Not that morning, or from a nap that afternoon. When I woke up flat on my back, staring up into the wintry night sky, in the Christmas tree lot. Black ice, ‘nuff said. The BFF says that she had just gone into the trailer to pay the guy for our beautiful, giant tree and she turned around to tell me to pull the car around and I had disappeared. I was there, I was just a lot lower to the ground than she expected. She drove home. I moaned a lot and we both dragged the tree up to our second floor apartment, shedding needles all the way. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. I remember a headache, some nausea and a few ornaments, but eventually we got the tree up and running, as it were. I seem to remember it taking a while to decorate, possibly because I had a concussion, but there could have been other reasons. But when the last ornament was finally hung, the last light set just so, the star set at the top…BFF dimmed the lights and stood back basking the glory of the first real grown-up tree. She started to sing “Oh Christmas Tree” in her high, sweet voice, “Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree, how steadfast are your branches, Oh Christmas tree OH MY GOD CATCH IT!” And down came baby, cradle and all.

Ornaments were smashed that night. Much like my skull. I don’t think I have ever truly recovered.

That last little bit of turkey? Just throw it away.

Ah the long weekend. Gone. Sigh.

It actually took me two and a half hours to get home from my office on Wednesday. That was not a good omen for the weekend to come. Luckily it was not an omen at all and the weekend was nice. Once I got home, that is.

There was a pretty typical Thanksgiving dinner, minus relatives and proper place settings. In fact, it actually involved tv trays and some show about American food inventions. High class? Not at all. Relaxing? Oh hell yes. I like the big gatherings but it was nice to not worry too much. And what was to worry about anyway? My cooking timing was pretty good and everything was edible. I have previously stated that turkey is the one thing that may keep me from being vegetarian, but you know what? This turkey, while moist and flavorful, was not great. I don’t think it was anything I did. It was just and oddly fatty, yet stringy turkey. Moist, yes, but not great. Oh well. It was totally eatable but eh. If we do the dinner alone again, I will probably just chuck a couple of turkey legs into the crock pot.

Everything else was good though. I did realize that I just don’t like cheesecake all that much but it was fine. Maybe next year will be some sort of pumpkin cake. Or maybe just brownies. Can’t go wrong with brownies. Oh and the cat? She likes turkey. A lot. Almost enough to climb into the oven with it. She will actually fight you for a piece. It’s funny but dangerous. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

So then there was Friday which I will sum up in one word: migraine.

Then Saturday. Which I will sum up in two words. Christmas tree.

And finally Sunday in three words: Stupid fucking tree.

The wisdom of my elders.

Since I got a little bit older a few weeks back I have been wondering what exactly I have learned since the last time I got a little bit older. I would have to say, in general, not much. That’s probably not at all true but it really doesn’t feel like I have learned much. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention.

Jules and I decided a long time ago that there is a certain point in a woman’s life when she must be presented with a magical book of wisdom. You know the one. The one that has all that information that your mother and grandmother had but couldn’t explain where it came from. Like how your mom knew that you were cold and should put a sweater on. It must all be written down somewhere and I would like to know when I get to see it because I feel like I am missing out on something.

I suppose that I learned a lot of important things from my elders. How to cook, how to (ahem) clean, how to be a good and tolerant person (I'm trying! I swear!). But where is all that other stuff?

Why did my grandmother know that barley holds heat and therefore urged me to be careful when eating vegetable barley soup? Where is all that information stored?

Wishing...

I like JustJENN’s Christmas wish list and I considered doing one of my own but suddenly, I cannot think of the real things that I want. The Christmas list with which I will be supplying my husband is mostly little things, a staple-less stapler, a business card holder, a few sweaters, and my Amazon list is mostly books with a few cds and cooking supplies thrown in, but nothing all that amazing or surprising if you know my tastes. So instead, I thought I would make a list of the things I would like to have but probably won't ask for...well, I'll ask for the pony. I always ask for the pony.

• a panda
• more space
• my own studio
• a print gocco
• a buttered toast scarf
• a Vigo the Carpathian painting
• my own fairy door
• mad guitar skillz
• a meat necklace
• A PONY!

Ever since A.C. sent me a virtual hamster eating a vegan cupcake for my birthday, I have been wanting to draw that but instead, in honor of her recent bloggy name change, I present to you…THE ANATOMY OF AN AMBITOUS HAMSTER…(because I didn’t feel like working for a few minutes).

Sleep Aid

I didn’t participate in Namoblopomo or whatever it’s called because I knew I would be “out of the office” for several days while my parents were visiting and also because I DO NOT FOLLOW! I AM NOT A JOINER! Heh, strong words that actually mean, I AM LAZY. But this prize for participation made me sorry that I didn’t join in (scroll down to the second image…I like the first one too!). But all this just reminded me of something a person I did not like wrote in my best friend’s high school yearbook (did you follow that? there was a person who I didn’t like who wrote in another…never mind). She wrote, “be a leader, not a follower.” Astute. And a phrase that my BFF and I toss around to annoy one another. Can you imagine a crappier thing to write in someone’s yearbook? She totally sucked. But the point here is actually, I would have liked to participate, if only for the love of that painting. But I didn’t. So there.

So anyway, I was talking to a friend about, of all things, Shakespeare the other day. I’m a big fan. So much so, that I had actually intended to go to graduate school to study him, because what’s more original than that? But alas, time and money were against me and although I was accepted into the ranks of even higher learning, I did not go. But now, when I cannot sleep, which is often, I work on my dissertation in my head. I have two, one for Chaucer, had I studied medieval literature, and one for Shakespeare. The Chaucer was to be titled “Chaucer the Feminist” and the Shakespeare one was something like “Shakespeare hates the Drama Queens.” Chaucer is, despite what we know about the general treatment of women in his time, pretty darn good in writing strong, smart female characters while Shakespeare, who also was more likely than not, feministically challenged, wrote strong, smart, comedic female characters, but the women in his dramas all pretty much…well…a lot of them just die. For really crappy reasons. Seriously, who the heck dies for love? Sure we all SAY we would, but really? Nah. And my very favorite example of the crappy Shakespearian death scene for a woman goes to Desdemona, not only is she killed by Othello in a jealous rage, she comes back from the brink of “not quite dead yet” to say “Oh hey, no, he didn’t do this to me. It was all my fault.” And yet the same writer created the sharp and clever Beatrice of Much Ado About Nothing and the fiery Katherina of The Taming of the Shrew. What the heck was going on there?

Anyway, that’s how I fall asleep. Now it’s probably how you fall asleep too, thinking about Shakespeare and Chaucer.

It snuck up on me.

Hunh. So Thanksgiving is next week. Go figure. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Luckily I am not cooking for anyone else this year or I might panic. It will be just the two of us for the first time in…well…ever, I think. As far as I can remember, we have always spent the holiday with friends or family. But I don’t mind. I do like Thanksgiving so we will have a traditional meal, it will just be considerably smaller than usual.

Every year I suggest the homemade tofurky and every year it is rejected, so again it is the traditional roast turkey. Which is fine with me, in fact, if I ever do actually go vegetarian, the turkey will be one of those things that I will miss. Personally, I am fond of bread stuffing. Not cornbread, not sausage and oyster or any of the various exotics, I like seasoned bread cubes, a butter type substance, some onions, some celery, tons of spices and some broth. That’s all. That’s just the way I am. And as long as we are talking starches, there also needs to be potatoes, both mashed and sweet. Sadly, I hate to make mashed potatoes for no apparent reason, but I will buck up for this one occasion. And as far as sweet potatoes go, we have this family recipe from my sister-in-law that now kind of defines Thanksgiving for us. I guess there should be some kind of vegetable too if there’s not going to be a tofurkey…I am opting for something broccoli-like but I suspect the husband will prefer peas, which are not technically a vegetable, are they? They are a legume, which is slightly different but hey, who am I to argue?

Anything else? Well, I have decided to shun the pumpkin pie tradition as I really don’t care for it all that much. One slice is fine but then there is the rest of the pie to consider. This year I am thinking there will be some experimentation and perhaps some pumpkin/chocolate cheesecake squares. So far James seems to be agreeable to this but he can turn at any moment…

Finally, I am feeling the need for crescent rolls this year. The kind that come in a tube. The kind that I would generally not make. The kind that have long been eschewed for homemade bread, or biscuits or rolls. I don’t know where this desire has come from but I am thinking about giving in. Why not? In fact, someday I intend to host the Thanksgiving dinner that has all those traditional American classics that I never really got into, the sweet potatoes with marshmallows, the green been casserole, the jello salad…someday. Maybe the same year that I finally make the tofurkey.

What's going ahn? (that's a song title there...did you know that?)

What I’m reading: Well, I still have Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell on my coffee table but I haven’t been reading it, I don’t know why as when I do read it, I really enjoy it, but it’s a big book and I am not inclined to carry it around with me, so it just sits.

Also, I just started reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh. I read The Loved One last year because I have an odd obsession with funereal trappings and I rather enjoyed it. Then I saw a movie called Bright Young Things (David Tennant is in that one) and I thought I would like to read Vile Bodies, on which the movie is based. My dad noticed the book sitting on the table and commented on how much he disliked the author. I don’t know how I feel about it yet but it’s a pretty short book, so I think I will finish it and reserve judgment until then.

Today I received a box of books that are intended to be Christmas gifts, but I couldn’t resist buying something for myself and I had been awaiting the publication of The Omnivore’s Dilemma in paperback, so here it is. I read the first chapter while eating lunch and although I suspect that this is not the kind of book one should read while eating, it hasn’t hit that point yet and I liked what I read. Michael Pollan appears to be a very thoughtful writer and I find the subject of food interesting so I have high hopes for this one.

Next: Hmmm…well I just don’t know. I have some mystery novels by the man who wrote the Paddington Bear books, but I also have several borrowed books I need to get to, one loaned to me by my brother almost two years ago (Requiem by Graham Joyce) but for ten years now I have been intending to read a biography of Charles Darwin. I like Darwin and I am terribly interested in his life, but it’s another one of those big books. Same with the biography of the Mitford sisters that I have. And I took a break from Ulysses but I think I’d like to get back to it…decisions, decisions.

What I am watching: With no new Doctor Who’s until Christmas, I have been longing for a little British sci-fi action. I may have gotten my dirty little mitts on some episodes of Torchwood but I have been instructed to not watch them until certain friends are free to watch them with me…sigh. And with the advent of our new DVR, I have a backlog of Battlestar to watch, but I have noted my reticence to watch that show lately. So for the fun viewing, I have pretty much been watching House. Also on the recorded list are Vincent and Criminal Minds, which I cannot defend as a GOOD show but I like it anyway.

Next: My viewing habits have become decidedly anglophilian and I am eagerly awaiting new seasons of Doctor Who, Life on Mars, Hustle and Waking the Dead. At least I hope they all have new seasons coming out…I know the doctor and LOM will be back…I guess I’d better check on the rest before I get too excited.

What I’ve been cooking: Well, despite the gifting of the lovely Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World book, I haven’t tried any of the recipes yet, which makes me kind of sad. In fact, the last two things I cooked were decidedly unvegan, but tasty if you can justify eating it. I made excellent (if I do say so myself) carnitas the other night. They were perfectly spicy and lovely and I really shouldn’t eat pork but I do anyway. And there were homemade tortillas to go with the carnitas. And then last night there was chicken and dumplings. I do like the dumplings…someday I will try them in a vegetable broth and see how it goes.

Next: I’d really like to get to some of those cupcake recipes particularly the toasted coconut with coffee “buttercream” frosting. Doesn’t that sound awesome?

What I’ve been making: Well, the SnarkyDork’s birthday was like a month ago and I still haven’t finished her birthday present, I really need to get that done. Then it’s Christmas candy. Every year for the past…well, I don’t know how long, maybe 5 or 6 years, I have made candy for my friends and family. I make Guinness truffles and bourbon balls and some times caramel fleur de sal truffles. This year I am thinking about adding some coffee lollipops to the mix, but we’ll see how ambitious I am when it gets a little closer.

What I should be making: I’d love to someday make ALL of my Christmas gifts. And someday I will, but not this time.

“Movies?,” you ask: Ah there are a few I would love to see! I am a diehard fan of Aardman animation so I am intrigued by Flushed Away. I am trying to not have high hopes for it as it is not actually a Nick Park film, but I intend to show my love. There is also Casino Royale. I grew up watching James Bond films with my dad and although I know it’s so uncool, I confess that my favorite Bond is Roger Moore. I know his films were silly and camp, but I have fond memories of them and, quite frankly, I just don’t love Sean Connery. But, I think the character of Bond is kind of a cold, hard creep, so I am curious to see how Daniel Craig does it. Personally, his face is not attractive to me but um…well, he can take his shirt off anytime he likes. Also, I saw him in Layer Cake and thought he was excellent, so…yeah, I am hoping to like that movies. Finally, I want to see A Good Year. Look, it’s Russell Crowe and wine and Albert Finney, what more do you want? Oh, I also would like to see Marie Antoinette. The costumes alone would make it worth it.

What movies I have sitting, waiting for me to watch at home: V for Vendetta. I should really watch that.

Who I am crushing on: It’s none of your business! You don’t know him anyway!

I never did get a birthday cake...

I love vacations but I hate that “I need a vacation to recover from my vacation” feeling. Yeesh, I am tired, but I did get up at 5:45 this morning…and then again at 6:15…and then again at 6:30 before I could finally get in the shower and set off to return the ‘rents to the airport. Heh. Turns out that they were SUPPOSED to have left yesterday but my dad read the tickets wrong or something. Luckily they are seasoned travelers and didn’t freak, they just called their travel agent, paid a little extra and hopped on the same flight one day later. At least I got an extra day with them!

I know that most people love their parents. I love mine but I also like them. We have a really good time when we are together and this was no exception. We did a little exploring, visited some new places and just hung out. My mom has a black belt in shopping so we spent some time exploring little boutiques and the Rose Bowl flea market with her. And my dad loves pretty cars so we took a trip to the Petersen’s Automotive Museum, which I highly recommend to anyone visiting L.A. Pretty, shiny cars! The current exhibit is of some Big Daddy Roth stuff, which was really fun to see. In fact, I think I may have to go back.

There was some birthday revelry in the form of not one but two dinners at my two favorite restaurants and there were presents, oh how there were presents! What does it say about a person when they receive a bottle of wine, a bottle of whisky, a bottle of champagne, a pair of slippers and a vintage Doctor Who play set? I think it sends some mixed messages but you can explain that to me when you find me sitting on the floor, wearing my slippers, drunk on blueberry wine, playing with the Tardis…because you will find me like that…eventually. There were many other lovely gifts and a dozen oysters and a creme bruleé and good times were had by all.

Sigh. I will miss my parents but I will be happy to move off the futon and back to the bed. And I will get to see them again soon, so that’s nice. All in all it was an excellent week of visiting and birthdaying and for the record, I have no idea how old I am. Every time someone asks, and really, you aren’t supposed to ask that question, I have to do the math. Suffice to say, I am older but no wiser.

YAY!

YAY for visiting parents! I usually only get to see them once a year but today they arrived in town and we have 5 days to spend together.
YAY for days off from work. It's nice to not be there!
YAY for birthdays. I like presents. (And I never expected a vintage Doctor Who playset OR gourmet marshmallows AND it's not even my birthday yet!)
YAY for days off...did I say that already?

Ring a ding ding.

When I agreed to do the whole comic-con thing, it was a big deal to me. Not because I would have to talk to people, because, despite my lack of conversational skills, I can SELL things. I sold shoes and adult pleasure toys, for heaven’s sake, I can sell! It was also not because, as someone suggested, I was selling off a part of myself by selling my “art”. HA! Please! I draw silly little pictures, I think I can afford to sell off those parts of myself…and a lot of other parts for that matter. It was really more an issue of my stuff being on display for people to comment on. I don’t mind if you insult my skills, I just don’t really need anyone insulting them to my face. It’s fine if you don’t like what I make, but I don’t want to have to hear about it. Who does? I have plenty of self-confidence but not enough to handle that. And so I was scared that I would be openly mocked. Which I was not. In fact, people were incredibly kind and supportive to me. Which was great. But, like I said, it was all quite a big deal to me. So I made a bargain with myself. I told myself that if I sold some stuff at comic-con, I could buy myself a piece of jewelry that I have had my eye on for quite some time. It arrived today and I am enchanted

If I were the more philosophical and romantic sort, I would say that it serves as a reminder for me to “just bee” and not worry about what anyone else thinks. But I am not and it’s really just a pretty ring with a lovely bee on it.

I found it here. It’s beautifully made, heavy but with delicate cutwork. And you can choose the color of the glass behind the image. Each piece is made to order so it takes a while but it’s well worth the wait.

And clearly my hands need some moisturizing, but don't mock me for that either. It's really dry here!

Big black nemesis parthenogenesis.

I came to a realization the other day that made me feel terrible. Oddly, it pleased one of my friends to no end. She was actually gleeful. Me, not so much. I realized that…this is embarrassing…I have a nemesis. Doesn’t that sound terrible? A nemesis. How awful a person must one be to have “a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent”? Technically not so awful.

Actually, years ago I CHOSE a nemesis. And that nemesis remains a nemesis but pretty much just for comedic purposes. It happened one day at work, we all decided that we needed an evil nemesis and I chose a co-worker. He actually chose Yum-Yum Doughnuts, so you can tell we weren’t being all that serious. But my new nemesis…this person just makes me feel like crap. As if nothing I will ever do will be good enough, or cool enough. And I realize that it is totally ME putting that out there. Well, they certainly sent some nefarious vibes my way, but there was no actual threatening or mockery. Just the feeling that no matter what I do, I will always be inferior to this person and thus I must not like them.

I have had a real nemesis once before, in college. That time it was a guy who was basically me as a dude. We met because I was wearing a Hoodoo Gurus t-shirt (with boxer shorts…in public…yet another shame of the 80’s) and he saw me across campus and yelled “Hey, Hoodoo Gurus! Come here!” Turned out that we had pretty much everything in common, and that made us…enemies. In him I could see every thing that was annoying about myself, and I am guessing he saw the same in me. I KNEW when he would procrastinate on a project, or not show up for a meeting, because they were the same things that I would do and man did that annoy me! But through it all, I thought we were friends who just irritated each other. Little did I know that our irritation was evident for all to see. It became interesting when we were both invited to the same party. One of the hosts called me the day before to “warn” me that he would be there. She wanted me to know in case I would have issues. I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, he was a friend. Turns out, she did the same to him. So our rivalry or nemesisery, or whatever you would call it was apparently…apparent.

I don’t like feeling this way about people but I suppose in the long run, or at least, I HOPE that in the long run, it makes me a better person. If I can recognize the bad parts of me in others, maybe I can make them better. And vice versa. Or what have you.

(And I’m am not suggesting (by the title) that my nemesis is big or black…that’s just the lyrics of a Shriekback song…and the color and size of my horrible soul for having a nemesis at all.)

Day of the Wed

Oops. I totally meant to post this picture on the first but flaked. No big surprise there.

This is actually the topper from our wedding cake. But it is also a day of the dead figurine. We saw it just before we got married while shopping on Olvera Street and thought it was fitting. We both have a fondness for horror, and in particular, I have a fondness for skulls and although we don’t have any sort of Mexican background, we felt that it represented our new lives in Los Angeles and the culture of our new city. It was, to us, a perfect cake topper.

It wasn’t until years later that I found out that my mother was none too pleased with it. To her credit, she never said a word and it only came up in passing much, much later.

We still love our little skeletons and they sit in a place of honor in our living room.

Ok, I am going to make a little confession here that is certain to stir up something distinctly shitlike with a few people. I am a bad, bad geek but I am finding that I just have no desire to watch Battlestar Galactica. I know! I know! (and I can already hear Jodi telling me that’s ok but that I am still a dork. Dork.) Ever since we got the DVR there have been episodes just sitting on there and piling up. But James doesn’t really watch it…although he is starting to… and so I watch alone. And the show can be so depressing at midnight that I have been avoiding it. It’s a good show. Far better than most in fact, but it wears me out. Sigh. I won’t give up yet but…yeah. They really need to give me something pretty to look at…OK, well, my kind of pretty, not Jodi’s kind. Jodi’s kind is good…but I need me something 50ish and British. Get on that right away SciFi network and I will return to my former geeky self.

Ten other things.

In contrast to the “ten things that have annoyed me in the last 24 hours…no, wait…ELEVEN” here are nice things that have happened to me too. See, it’s not always raining here!

1. My two younger nephews sent me a beautiful bouquet of fall flowers.
2. While speaking to said nephews on phone I got to discuss lollipops with the youngest and “Fart-o-meter” costumes with the elder. Don’t ask. I don’t know. But it was still entertaining.
3. I was gifted with a cookbook that I very much wanted while being treated to a posh dinner by friends. How nice is that?
4. That cookbook has very many lovely pictures of vegan cupcakes. That can’t be bad.
5. I received an adorable photo of Josh’s adorable daughter in the mail. I like adorable.
6. My parents are coming to visit for my birthday. I like my parents.
7. There is a very good possibility that my “art” (and I do use that term loosely) will grace the library card of the town in which I spent my formative years. I find this quite exciting.
8. Jodi said that I was “far more Strawberry Shortcake than goth”. OK, maybe that wasn’t meant to be nice and I would say that I am far more “My Pretty Pony” than “Strawberry Shortcake” but it still made me laugh.
9. The winter comforter on the bed makes sleeping even better. Now I really want to take a nap.
10. Cooler weather has convinced the cat that she is now a lap cat. Awwww.

Hey, don’t get used to this…I can’t be cheerful all the time, it’s far too taxing.