Monthly Archives: February 2013

Birthday Begging, on iDJ’s behalf


Hi there all you lovely people!

I rarely do this. But tomorrow is my dearest’s 40th, and tonight is his last Internet radio show as a 30-something! Please come and listen? High listener rates will thrill him to bits, and who wouldn’t want to be thrilled to bits?

If you’re on Facebook you can follow his show “Soul Shenanigans“. That’s good fun as he makes a new poster every week! Look at this week’s:


That’s him, cute and blonde even then.

Otherwise, visit here: or

He’ll be on Channel A, in just about an hour. He’s interactive, too, so you can send him a happy birthday message or tell him he’s an old, out-of-touch fart and to get off your digital airwaves, if you like.

I’m hoping for the former!

EDIT: show is over but available via podcast!

Head space outer limits


I think I’ve titled a post ‘Where’s my head at?’ before. Shame. I doubt I did it justice… but there’s no chance I’m going to make anything resembling sense right now.

Screen shot of a “free” app I have, called Paper. The app is a bit, um, up it’s own arse, to be honest. But daaaamn, my handwriting never looked so good. In one take, too! In the head-space I’m in, also! Normally my writing looks like a 7-year-old on acid was writing with her off hand.

I’m not sleeping, my intestines are on strike, I have eczema on my hands and one foot (no cause determined, but no fungus thank fuck, that’s just too narsty. And too easily cured, of course). Possibly stress-related, possibly contact-related. Oh, joy. It’s not enough that my joints, my digestive system, and my heart have all jumped on the stress-symptom-bandwagon, now my goddamn hands and left foot have gotten into the act. What’s next? Oh yes, the twitch in my left eye for the last three weeks, perhaps? Who knows what my pancreas is plotting, or what my spleen is scheming?

Anyhoo there’s too much going on in there for me to discuss at length. So (hopefully, as I seem to have lost the knack for embedding a vid) here’s a video that I think of quite often when my brain is all over the shop (or the locker, or the shower, or in a a dog’s mouth…)
So – I can’t do it right. Here’s a couple of screen shots. Copyright I’m sure Stephen King or the TV company, sorry.





I’ve not devoted a post to my little Siamese boy Lokii in a while. Actually, it’s been over a year since “Let’s Meet Lokii” and “Let’s Meet Lokii’s Dark Side”. However, he’s been disgustingly adorable the last few days, (and it’s not even that cold in here!) so I got the chance was forced by cuteness to take a few pics.

First, a shot from Monday, when he was helping me watch a David Attenborough documentary on predators and prey. I’ve never caught him really watching TV like this before (but he is fascinated with iPad games, not even the ones made for cats). Not sure if it’s the size of the new screen, or the lions on it that got him so interested.


Wednesday night, Lokii came to bed with me. I always curl up on my left, with my iPad open to an e-book propped against hubby’s pillow. He Lokii-poked to get under the covers, and curled against my chest with his head under my chin and, as it happened, his whole head in my right hand. He fell asleep, purring, and after a while the purring dropped into silence. Then…a while later…a faint rumble started again. Neither he nor I had moved or made a sound – it was just him waking up a tiny bit and realising where he was and who he was with. That’s cat love for sure, and it gave me a much needed happy feeling after a hard day. (Apologies to Cats n Co for pretty much reposting my comment on her blog on ‘Do Cats Love?‘)

Thursday we had a really, really hot fire going. Too hot for me, but just about right for the heat-seeking Si-missile that is Lokii-mon. He was so happy sprawling in different directions on my legs that I couldn’t conceive of getting up to get a better camera. Sadly, these pics are all from my ever-present iPad and they are accordingly terrible. Sorry. Hope the cuteness shines thru all the static caused by taking close-ups by firelight!

Ahh, laps. And fire. Ahhh. That’s a yawn, he’s not about to eat me. Promise.

See? Chin-scratches. Nothing could be better, for him. Me? I had to take this, and the next few pics, with my nose. Yep. One hand is holding the iPad, one is scratching precious kitteh – my nose was my only option!

Ooh, that’s nice, we loves a finger in our ear.

And ear-scrunches from the outside are nice, too!

More ears? Heaven, I’m in heaven…

Who gave you permission to stop with the ear-love?

Okay, no more petting…guess I’ll just enjoy this fire instead.

Ahhh. *yawn*

But things are back to normal now. I’ve spent a good part of my Friday evening sewing up the holes he’s chewed in the new dog bed. Sigh.

That’s the biggest of dozens of holes I had to sew shut. I need advice! I’m really worried he’s going to get horribly sick from eating fabric. We can’t stop him. Take away one thing, he finds something else. He’s really great at listening, remembering, and not returning to the scene of the crime again when we say NO! (ok, I say, as I’m the observant one) but he is also good at making sure he never hears ‘no’ in the first place. There’s no blockage in his guts – yet – but I don’t want there to be one.

How can such a smart kitty be so damn dumb?

Matchless ignorance


IDJ and I ‘tag-team’ the laundry duties. He puts the clothes in the wash, and I do all the rest. Not entirely fair, but I really dislike measuring out the soap and whatnot. I don’t know why. It’s not like I get a thrill out of sorting and folding the shit, either.

So, anyway, we do laundry at weekends because that’s the only time I feel like sorting it for him. And this weekend (well past now as I meant to post this Saturday), I was folding the clean but still fur-coated clothes and matching up the socks when I had a revelation (and, just now, another- I cannot spell revelation. How annoying. It just looks wrong).

It was the socks. I had bought four new pair of socks before Christmas for myself. I have trouble finding socks I like, as they can’t be too long or they ball up below my knees and hurt, or they are too short and puddle around my ankles. Men’s long socks do the job, women’s not so much. Anyhoo, two pair were identical black men’s long socks, and two were fun stripey women’s ones, but still in colours I can wear to work. Since I bought them, I’ve been rotating these along with my one remaining pair of long socks (bought in America October 2010) that I haven’t sewn up too many times, to make a weeks’ worth of work foot-wear. And I had to tell you all that because one putz person I know, after hearing a short version of this story, had to try to joke that I has only two pair of socks that I made last five days. Sigh.

Been wearing these socks at least once a day since mid-December. Wash them, in one load, every weekend. Match them up, ball them together, every weekend.

And I only just now noticed this:

The stripey ones aren’t identical. How could I have missed this quite essential bit of information for nearly two months? What have I been wearing to work? Why did my brain decide, ‘same colours, same brand, both have stripes = same thing!’

I really am a bit worried about this, despite poking fun at myself. I’m meant to be artistic. How could I miss something so…basic? For so long? I really have to wonder what else I might be looking right at, every day, and not seeing.

I’m blaming it on the thin pink stripe. I hate pink. It threw off my game.

Gratuitous cat photo


Have to share this. I can’t take the credit, however – hubby took this while Spot was perched on his chest, blocking his view of the Wales/Ireland rugby match. Ireland won, by the way. 😎

I can’t stop staring at his nose… It’s just perfect. The line of fur against the pink, and the black, setting it off, and every perfect hair…I just love this pic. Amazing what an iPhone camera can do!

A long-arse post about my largest organ


I can already tell I’m going to have some typos here. My fingers can’t move fast enough. Oddly I’m using my middle finger on the left and my index on the right to use the touch-screen, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before. Could be something I’ve adopted because my left index finger has, for the first time in my life, decided it wants to grow a proper, decent nail and the sound of it ticking on my iPad screen is completely annoying. It might be okay if both index fingers made a sound but they don’t and that confuses my widdle brain.

But fingernails are actually something I wanted to talk about, sort of. I’ve never mentioned my annoying, weird, skin-thing here. Mostly because I have no idea if I’m making the problems up or not. Hell, I shat blood for years before I realised that wasn’t normal. Okay that really is off-topic. But bear with me, fingernails are related to the skin and hair, that keratin thang, and I’ve got some odd shite going on with all of it. I think.

My hair is done growing and that is that: it won’t get any longer. I’ve never had really long hair, and I believe there is a genetic cut-off that says ‘done!’ at a certain length. Hubby hasn’t reached his limit after over 6 years without a haircut, so I’m a bit jealous. I seem to be finally coming out of a months-long hair loss trend that pissed me off and also worried me a bit. I can now actually stroke the last few inches of my pony-tail and not have dozens of hairs come out in the process. So that’s good – but why was it falling out and why did it stop?

My fingernails (see I said I’d get back to that) have always been really thin and soft and squooshy. A while back (could be years, I have a terrible sense of time) I noticed one or two on my left hand had an odd texture. Heavy ridges, and little bumps like sand dunes on a beach. Google wasn’t any help to figure it out. Then my left index actually started making a real nail that didn’t break when you looked at it funny (and turn into a deadly razor-blade), or rip off below the nail-bed and make me sore and bloody for weeks. So: second question – why is my hair falling out but my nails are improving – but also doing funky patterns?

Last issue is the biggie, and the reason I finally am going to talk to my GP on Monday. I have very dry skin. It looks pretty good, I have to admit that. I don’t physically appear to be over 40 – in the summer, at least (I’ll get back to that in a bit). But, it’s thick skin (maybe why I don’t have the wrinkles I should, considering my childhood in Florida when sun lotion meant putting on baby oil or something else to get a better tan). It’s so thick that it requires, as I get older, an immense effort to exfoliate. I’m talking a lot of damn work that I resent a lot.

I have to use those gloves that are super-scratchy to take off the dead skin. I have to soak myself in hot water – and I have never liked hot showers – first, and then again and again after each scrub. If I run out of hot water, which is bound to happen, I’ve left a layer or three of damp, itchy, dead cells on my entire body that drive me INSANE for the next hour or more until I dry out entirely. Baths are much better, especially if I beg hubby to do my back, but our water tank is small and it takes ages for me to fill a tub, and then another 2 hours for the bath. And…the dead skin floating in there is just…horrible. I have photos that I might share with the doc, if I’m not too embarrassed to do so.

Skin lotion doesn’t help much. All it does is make the un-shed skin still stuck to me stay wet longer and prolong the itchy nightmare. If I really get to do a thorough scrubbing-job I’m always debating if I should use lotion or not. I want to, because I get so damn dry, but I rarely see that it makes a difference. Currently I can do an Ally Sheedy impersonation just by rubbing my leg, arm, or forehead – I’m talking about her fabulous dandruff-snowfall in The Breakfast Club, of course. My forehead annoys me the most right now. The dryness has extended down below my eyebrows. My goddamn eyelids are peeling! Ick. You’re not supposed to use exfoliating gloves on your face, but I can’t get the dead skin off any other way – and if I use face-cream more than once a day, I’m a mass of zits. Quite annoying at my age when I didn’t have a problem as a teen! So, I’m sort of hoping that a professional will be able to help, as I can’t and won’t buy every face-cream on the market to test it out, that shit is crazy expensive.

Well, I’ve been dealing with the skin-issues for years. It’s gotten worse in the last eight but I couldn’t say if is it due to the damp, sunless climate in Ireland, or if it’s just me getting older. I do know that I mentally crave sunshine, and that my face ages five years in the winter. I suspect a vitamin D deficiency, but I’m not going to play around with taking tons of different vitamins and waiting seasons for a result just to experiment on myself.

I finally am going to ask for professional help because since Christmas morning, I seem to have developed a fungus, or something. It started on the sole of my left foot as a clump of tiny blisters that looked like a particularly nasty cold sore and itched like mad. Google told me it was likely athlete’s foot, a fungus. I then caught the local creeping ick after new year’s eve and stayed home for a week taking antibiotics – and the very next week at work I noticed a load of tiny little bumps on the sides of most of my fingers. I thought it was a soap allergy, as I had just used a liquid soap in the bathrooms at work that I usually do not use. However, within two days it had progressed to the palms of my hands. No longer little bumps that didn’t bother me, I have had, since the first week of January, leopard-spots on both palms that itch and refuse to be cured by the miconazole ointment I bought and have used at least once a day since. The hospital-grade antifungal soap at work I prefer, and use about four times a day, also hasn’t helped. The little bumps on my fingers have peeled around the edges, but haven’t gotten smaller. The ones on my palms, and the original spot on my foot, also have a ring of peeling skin but the crud keeps coming back. This also worries me as I am a very fast healer. Sweating and hot water make it itch worse – not very great when I require hot water for the other skin BS, right?

I believe there is a pill I can take to cure the fungus that will have to be prescribed – but the thick-skin issue that seems to have prevented the ointment from working now has to be addressed. It isn’t going away, and if continual fungal infections are my future I Am Not Amused. I’m also not keen on the theory that I might need a sun-bed in the winter months (even if my whole being cries out for sunshine).

If you’ve bothered to read this far: any ideas or advice appreciated, especially as regards what I should ask or tell my GP.