kageotogi

» Fact: I am in possession of far too much yarn. This means I have a new goal for myself: stop buying yarn. Or, anyway, stop buying it at least until most of it is used up. The problem with this is that accomplishing this using-it-up goal means I have to knit things. I am less than good at that.

» OMG, could I be any more behind on story/fic prompts? Not even counting the sixteen (or so) from LAST YEAR, there are two outstanding from last week (one of which is finished but not typed -- sorry, punctuates!). I'm really just a loser.

» I have already made plans to go buy new yarn. Whoops.

» Because she is clearly made of evil and other good things, masteroftrouble managed to get me addicted to Hyperbole and a Half with a mere link to an icon. I stayed up very, very late reading old blog posts. THIS IS WHAT I DO WITH MY FREE TIME, PEOPLE. And I realized that I've actually been linked to and read many of the posts before but somehow never realized that they were all from the same place, or how amazing they could all be when read consecutively and at three in the morning. So there's that.

» I am overwhelmed by what shouldn't be an overwhelming weekend. This probably means there will be a to-do list in my future, which is ridiculous because it will be very short. I really don't have that much to do. It just feels like it because everything has to happen all at the same time. Maybe I will write the to-do list on my refrigerator's wipe board and hope for the best.

» It takes about 10,000 hours to get really good at something, according to something I read on the internet (the internet doesn't lie, right?). That's lots of hours.

» I'm really hungry right now, and I think it's because I only ate a handful of cranberries and some M&Ms for breakfast (cranberries and dark chocolate-with-a-candy-shell are good for me). This is bad, because it means I am thinking of the chicken breast I have defrosting in the refrigerator (because yes, I sometimes eat things that are not dried fruit and candy) and all the delicious things I can do it later. Right now I'm thinking about chicken curry, which would be awesome if I had rice. I'm pretty sure I do not have rice. Failing that, barbecue chicken sammich. Except I'm not sure if I have barbecue sauce. Dilemma.

» I am almost out of babeh kitteh's medication, and need to get a new bottle from the vet. I called it in, so now I'm just waiting for them to call me back. It's a race against time: they have until eight tonight. Or eight tomorrow morning, if I have enough for tonight and tomorrow.

» Speaking of babeh kitteh, he had two seizures last week. One was about two minutes long, the other lasted maybe thirty seconds. This means he gets an increased dosage of his medication -- thus why I already need more -- and that there is little hope of decreasing the meds any time in the near future. Sigh.

» One of my cabinet doors managed to injure itself. Um. Basically, the little plastic thing that keeps the cabinet door from all but literally adhering to the cabinet itself fell out, and now the cabinet door sticks like crazy. It requires massive pulling on my part to get it open, and it's only a matter of time before I (a) yank it from its hinges or (b) gruesomely injure myself. Although at least if (b) happens, the cabinet door and I will have something in common. And who doesn't aspire to have things in common with inanimate objects, really?

And that's the end.

Dear home security company,

Please stop sending me bills. I understood the installation bill, the permit bill, and the monitoring bill. The second and third copies of the installation bill (which you sent with a note saying I had already paid it to and to please disregard the notice wtf why did you even waste the paper?) were kind of over-doing it. I'm also over this extra-equipment bill. I know I paid that one. Please stop sending me a bill with a "You paid this!" sticker on it.

Love,

Me.


Dear air conditioning,

I'm really glad you work again. Really. I missed you terribly last week, and coming home to discover that the seven-hundred dollar bill I was expecting was really only two-hundred and a broken thermostat (rather than a new A/C unit) was a wonderful surprise. I adore you. You may cool and heat my house any day of the week, provided it is not lovely outside.

Adorations,

Me.


Dear church people,

Please stop knocking on my door every evening at seven o'clock. I know I encouraged you last time by taking your papers and your pamphlets and expressing some interest in your church, which you admitted preaches no-tolerance and yaddayaddayadda (why are you admitting that? I was actually interested until you told me my non-Christian best friends were going to hell, and not even your sexy spokesperson could sway me after that!). I've learned my lesson. I also recognize you on sight. You can stop knocking; I'm not answering the door.

Thank you,

Me.


Dear coleslaw in my refrigerator,

Please don't go bad. I really did want to eat you tonight, but the avocado I bought on Sunday is finally of the perfect squeeze-texture, and that got priority. Those are only good for so long. Nonetheless, I am looking forward to making you into a tasty sandwich. Please last until tomorrow, and I will give you much love and digestions.

Kisses,

Me.


Dear Landor W,

I know you're trying to sell me vacation property in Virginia. I Googled your phone number, and your Caller ID status. Please stop leaving me minute-long messages on my answering machine and not saying a word. It's kind of irritating. Also, I don't know if this is you guys or not, but whoever keeps leaving me machine messages and just says "Hello?" and hangs up, seriously. I'm not there. Don't call me during work hours, and maybe you'd have better luck. If it's important, leave me your name and number. I'm serious. Just saying "Hello?" and disconnecting is not helping your cause.

Best,

Me.


Dear Mom,

Still waiting for that call back. Please get in touch, because I -- oh, you're good. Perfect timing.

Snuzzes,

Me.

Today is Friday, and I just opened a brand new bank account, and will be closing my old accounts over the course of the next few weeks. Can we say "Yay, simplified banking"? Yes we can.

Today is Friday, and my house now has internet, television, and phone service. Can we say "Things are getting back to normal"? Yes we can.

Today is Friday, and I have grand plans this weekend to see two lovely ladies who I do not get to see nearly often enough. Can we say "This is going to be an awesome weekend!"? Yes we can.

Today is Friday, and I'm getting an alarm system installed. Can we say "Increased resale value"? Yes we can.

Today is Friday, and I just mailed in my first mortgage payment. Can we say "Super exciting but also super scary and is my bank balance ever going to forgive me for this incredibly huge and far-too-adult-for-me purchase"? Oh, yes. We can.

( This Friday, I will... )

( On Saturday, I will... )

( On Sunday, I will... )

Happy birthday, rosethorne~!

In other less-fun news, house buying continues to be something of a drag. I'm in the process of collecting all the paperwork for my mortgage people (pay stubs, W2s, etcetera etcetera etcetera), and that process would be loads easier if the scanner was working (and if they hadn't given me two days to pull it all together). Other than that... Um, I've still got to talk to the insurance people and get that squared away, and I've got to consolidate my funds. I should probably also talk to my landlord and cancel my cable and do all that fun jazz, while I'm thinking of it.

There's so much to do! Why did I want to do this, again? June is going to be consumed by paperwork. Paperwork and knitting.

Three true things about me:

1. I'm looking at houses. Rather, I'm looking at one house, specifically. I've parsed out a lot of options, but this particular one is still looking rather appealing. I'm by no means jumping into a decision -- I've mulled this over pretty much non-stop since last week, and I'm still running the same ground; I'm not sure there's anything more to mull. It's coming down to final-decision time on this particular property, and while I don't know how things are going to turn out, I think I have an idea of where I'm going from here. I'll keep you all posted.

2. I have seen Star Trek (XI) twice now, and loved it both times. The tribble definitely boosted me into joy mode when I (finally) spotted it on the second go-round, and there were really only a few things that bothered me. Overall, I was content. (Did you all know I was a Star Trek fan? No? Well, I don't blame you. I only actually liked the original series [although the others had their moments; I really didn't give them much of a chance in the first place], and even then I was a very casual fan. I actually got into it during that time between my college graduation and my first full-time job; it's what I watched while everyone else was at school/at work/doing other things.) Anyway, long story short: if you haven't seen the movie, I do recommend it. My youngest brother is by no means a Trek fan, but even he enjoyed the movie (and then he sat down and watched an episode of TOS with me, so that was shocking). Watch it. And then please explain to me why every fic writer in the universe is obsessed with pairing Spock up with everyone else on the ship. Why Spock? I don't get it. I mean, I do, but I don't. I guess it's some kind of "Oooh, make the emotional void feel something!" kink, and that must be entertaining to exploit, but how much can you do with it, really? In the end, he's still Spock. Spock, who only shows emotions like "vaguely annoyed" and "possibly amused". ...excepting the Pon Farr episode. And maybe the tribble thing, but that doesn't count because tribbles are cheating.

3. punctuates thinks I'm maternal. I have a vague fear that she's right. I don't know how to counteract the maternalness without giving up the things I love -- baking, knitting, and dealing with the things Joan has drooled on (ew), for instance --, so I guess I'm going to have to accept it for what it is. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm maternal. This probably explains my overwhelming desire to pinch Chekov's cheeks (see Item 2), so at least there's that.