May 16, 2007

Darrell Speaks

And what's not to like?

DS Credo.JPG

You know how chicks are: we like a guy who can take charge. Until it gets boring, of course. Then we ignore him.

Honestly: I had no idea the debate on how I construct my mother's patio would get this heated.

I'm thinking of doing something like this, only a bit larger, and perhaps using mortar around the edges as well as for the center paver (which I'll buy separately, of course). Which means, Darrell, that we will have to forego wearing high heels in the backyard: Sunset is very explicit on that point.

Therefore: everyone is right, and we can all stop bickering about bricks.

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May 12, 2007

New "Mom's Patio" Thread!

I thought I'd get a tarp that's about the right size, and we could test it to make sure we can fit enough chairs into it for the mom, me, and three other people. (There can be satellite seating for larger gatherings, but I figured I'd start out with the husband, the mom, two cousins, and one dog zooming around.)

I'd like to do this in early July, when a few of the cousins will be in town. (Unfortunately, it's the teaching contingent, rather than the lumber-supply contingent, so I'll still be taking the lead. Still, a few more pairs of hands won't hurt.)

But for right now the paths really need attention: I actually swept them off the other day, despite them being bare dirt. That got some of the fence-building debris and dog toys out of the way. But allergic people don't have any business breathing any more dirt in than absolutely necessary. We'll start with pea gravel, and then move on to some kind of pavers, interspersed with herb plantings or ground covers. And then the main seating area we've all been discussing.

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May 09, 2007

What If You Had To Choose Between Food and Sex?

Or between food, sex and work. Or between food, sex, work and clean clothes every morning.

Or this: food, sex, work, clean clothes, or potable water?

And there's always: food, sex, work, clean clothes, potable water, or my bitchin' faux surfwagon.

The advanced course: food, sex, work, clean clothes, potable water, my bitchin' faux surfwagon, or a meaningful relationship with a Higher Power. (This is, of course, a trick question: your Higher Power wants you to have lots of goodies. Though perhaps not all at once.)

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May 03, 2007

It's a PT Cruiser.

A 2002 Limited Edition in beautiful shape, with a sunroof and those way-cool "faux woody" panels on the sides. The only downside: it's an automatic.

In the end, it came down to this car or a year-old white Scion with a trunk considerably smaller than the one on my friend's old non-hatchback Prius—or, approximately the size of my purse. We went with this car so that, should I need to carry people or objects from one place to another, I will be able to. (The seats fold down, the "trunk" is huge, and the vehicle sports a luggage rack.)

I still have to look up the engine specs, but the pickup on this thing is akin to what I get in my husband's V6, so whatever it is, it's good. (Nope. This info isn't in the owner's manual, which may have been written so that it covers base models as well as the souped-up versions of any particular Cruiser.) I'll hop online tonight, and/or call CarMax tomorrow.

Today our new couch is getting delivered, so I must go rearrange the living room furniture. And then it will be time to get together with a girlfriend for dinner.

Therefore: light blogging, as real-life demands continue to cut into my internet time. No rest for the wicked.

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May 02, 2007

We Bought a Car Today. Yes, Indeedy.

As Darrell predicted, it was "none of the above."

I'm really quite besotted; I may sleep in it tonight.

Anyone care to hazard a guess?

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April 28, 2007

Yeah. Another Day from Twelve-Step Hell.

I found out on Friday night that I truly was expected to show up at yet another fundraiser today, and man the literature booth. And since it fell under the rubric of my paid functions, I felt that I should do it.

So I got through the day, participated on my panel, and billed the organization for the rest of the time I spent on the event. Next year, I'll make sure they make a decision much further in advance about how they want to handle this.

This year, I said some smart-sounding bullshit, sold some literature, and got through the day without either bursting into tears or cussing anyone out.

This is not, by the way, about my being some sort of victim in any sense. It is about my being a complete nut.

There's a difference.

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April 22, 2007

Double Trouble Is Over.

As far as I'm concerned, the day was a success: I scaled back on my emotional commitment, and got through the entire event without going off on anyone.

B. is concerned that our group didn't appear to make as much money this year as we did last year. I don't know whether that's true, though: when one takes into account the fact that neither he nor I subsidized the event in the way we did last year, I think we did just fine. After all, part of the point of throwing this annual party is to be of service, and show people—especially "creative types"—how to run businesses in a sober fashion.

I. didn't follow through on her commitment to handle the food, so it would have been an utter disaster if I'd counted on her—or if I'd been more than my requisite 15 minutes late. As it was, there were just enough of us to make the event successful. We could have used one more pair of hands (though not the perfectionistic gal with the catering background), yet we pulled it off.

And now I'm blogging and dozing and getting ready to go back to work tomorrow.

Life works better when one follows through, but doesn't over-invest. I've been telling people all about that for several years now, so it's rather delightful to learn how to do it myself.

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March 14, 2007

Mmmm.

Pi.

I only know ten digits, myself.

But I can roll out an amazing crust, and that has to count for something.

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February 20, 2007

Nerds.

The final frontier.

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As To the General Run of Kids . . .

In addition to yelling, throwing things, running around shrieking and playing loud, obnoxious video games, it appears they do have other abilities—such as transmitting disease.

Yup: I have a bad sore throat that I appear to have acquired on the cabin trip chateau trip.

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February 19, 2007

Home Again.

And I work tomorrow, so at some point I need to do laundry and unpack.

But first, I'll take a small vacation to recover from the vacation.

An essay by Ayn Rand, a small nap, and I'll be right as rain.

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February 18, 2007

Are Things Really Different?

I had a huge tantrum the first time I was left at my Mexican baby-sitter's place. I was three years old.

I got used to being there, and learned to love my new environment. But whenever something is slightly unsatisfactory, I like to make that fact known as far and wide as I can.

These people—the ones I'm hanging out with now in the woods—took me in when I didn't have any family to speak of. I am much too casual about this fact. This may be due to having a strong personality. It could also be related to being an asshole, but I don't really want to think about that right now.

Fuck. First my nephews, then my cousins. And now my high-school crowd. Am I done now? Do I have enough family relations taken care of?

I shall go home and live in a cave. And the only person allowed in that cave will be my husband, and him only when it's the right time of month.

But I haven't snapped, or freaked out, or at any point been anything less than a lady.

That part certainly marks a departure from when I was twenty. And from when I was three.

Wish me luck, boys and girls: tomorrow evening, I cook dinner for fourteen. I'll be accepting Weed-O-Grams, if you can arrange 'em.

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A Family Affair.

It was a good day, today, overall. The dudes did what they could, and the chicks took turns being co-dependent and taking responsibility for the outcomes of Things They Couldn't Possibly Affect.

When Monday morning comes round again I will have enjoyed about as much of this as I can stand.

The fact that these trips used to last for a whole week makes me want to enter a time machine and give myself (at 17, at 23, at 2 a good talking-to.

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February 13, 2007

After a Long Day of Proofreading Yesterday,

I came home and suggested to Attila the Hub that if he's really tired of television he could go to massage school, and that would be a nice new career direction for him.

He didn't even answer me; he just gave me The Look.

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January 05, 2007

David Linden

. . . discusses how he decided on brain research over marine biology.

Funny stuff.

He and his girlfriend were living a mile south of me at the time, in a slightly-less-slummy area of Venice, California. He spent all his time fixing up a van he planned to take on a trip around the country. It was a Ford, or maybe a Chevy.

Because this was David rather than someone else, the preparations actually led to a road trip around the country in that same van. He and his girlfriend went into Canada, where he used the subjunctive while conversing in French.

I made them a tape for the trip. It was during my Elvis Costello/Graham Parker phase. One hundred twenty minutes of new wave silliness, with a bit of Joan Armatrading thrown in.

How fun to remember.

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December 27, 2006

So, I Have This Friend.

You know the one. This morning, she had an egg, over easy, and bacon. And most of a standard-size waffle.

For dinner, she had two toaster waffles. I'm not kidding.

Is it possible she's slightly addicted to carbohydrates?

Should I shun her?

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December 16, 2006

There's Something Crazy Going On Outside.

First of all, I got up this morning and I noticed that the sun wasn't there. I mean, I know it's around somewhere, because there's some light in the sky, but I just don't see it at all. It's like the light is somehow diffused by some sort of material, but I can't figure out what that might be.

A while later, I looked out the door and there was water! It was in the sky, but also coming out of the sky. Some of it was hitting the street! It's really weird.

Is this permanent? Does anyone know what's happening? It's really scary.

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October 30, 2006

Thanks, Evan.

Good to see you and Ms. Weiss last night. That's why I went to Linguist Guy's digs in the first place: to talk to you two, and to She Who Will Not Practice Law.

But Mr. Linguistics was in fine form.

I'm not sure what the point is of cannabis vodka without any THC in it, but I did discover that if one has enough of it, this deficiency can be counteracted.

Halloween is always such a magical time—even when one celebrates it the previous weekend.

Pax et lux, my friend.

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October 22, 2006

Yesterday

. . . I went to the second Catholic wedding of my life.

The first one, of course, was my own. I hadn't converted yet, so among the four of us kneeling at the front of the church there was one Catholic: my husband.

Mass took a while, since two-thirds of those attending went for blessings rather than the Eucharist.

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October 19, 2006

So, I'm at Hog Beatty's Place.

Val is there, too. He and Hog are sharing a joint and I'm reading a magazine in the corner. Eventually I take a blanket off of Hog's bed and curl up in it while I finish the article. They laugh at me.

"I can't help it," I tell them. "It's freezing."

Val looks at me. "Do you know what the freezing point is? he asks.

I look up at him over the tops of my glasses. "As a matter of fact, I do."

What's wrong with everyone's fucking irony meter?

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