Category Archives: Random

Brain-dump – Warning, rambling ahead…

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Argh. I have nothing going on, yet a ton of things going on, and I don’t even know where to begin. So I haven’t begun, until now… this is feeling like one of those times I need to ramble and write, just because I need to write.

That said, I caught myself cleaning the fridge this evening in what I knew damn well was an avoidance ploy. What’s up with that? Who the hell would rather wash the beer vegetable drawers instead of write? Especially when the call is so clearly upon oneself? Like that third person stuff? Yeah, me neither.

Maybe it really is that I have too much in my head and couldn’t figure out where to start. I’m just free-writing here, a big ol’ brain-dump. I guess I’ll see how big it really is. Good thing I don’t actually use paper, I’d be clogging the jacks…

I still need to post about my garden, and about a dozen kinds of beer I’ve tried recently, and an ‘invasion of the flour-mites’ update (I’ve gotten so many Google hits about it I feel I should do a proper post with advice on getting rid of them – they are gone). I have a ton of photos I’d like to share… I’m worried about my job security, and about Socks (who still is waiting, and since she has her mum with her we aren’t having our weekly phone call tonight). I owe an old friend a serious response to a difficult email, I’m worried about an ex who I’ve only just realised might be having a hard time and I don’t know why, and I just realised that it’s friggin’ Thursday and I have no hope of even getting a card to my dad in time for Father’s Day. Sorry dad, I really have been meaning to send something. I’m a terrible kid. Love me anyway? (that’s an old family joke)

We are also meant to have 36 – yes, thirty-bleedin-six, hours of rain, which started today at about 11 am. Yay. 36 hours of wet dog and no garden and no sitting outside all weekend. And I just know it will clear and be beautiful just in time for me to be stuck behind a desk on Monday. I can’t even get close to explaining how very much a sunny day that I cannot enjoy distracts me. My brain just does not appreciate being confined indoors, and my body is screaming for sunshine and fresh air.

I’m worried about my sister being lonely and having a tough time while her husband is away.

I started having graphic nightmares again, which try but fail to get my heart rate up, but still wake me and set my mind going. I can’t read myself to sleep on the iPad at those times: it will fall over and hit either me or iDJ in the face. I did, in one of those middle-of-the-night sessions, have an idea for a new blog; something I’d like to do that actually has a ‘theme’ but I can’t make the time for it unless I can think of a way it will make me some money. Which annoys me, because I’d much rather do it for the love of it, but ohmydog we are broke. Another worry…

And, suddenly, it’s 10pm and I have only an hour of me-time left before I have to sleep or be useless tomorrow. Hard as hell this time of year – even with the rain it is bright enough outside to read. It feels like 8, or even 7, but I have to finish making dinner, eat it, and go to sleep soon. Yes yes I know, we eat at crazy hours. iDJ has been on the air the last two hours and he has to wrap up some things still, and there’s no way we’d be able to make and eat a big meal in the hour of ‘free time’ we have between coming home from work and his show starting. Maybe if we didn’t cook from scratch and had something out of a bag or box it would be possible… Blecch.

I guess the last thing on my mind is my spine – I have to wait until July 4 for a consult to go over the results of my MRI. I have no idea what they are going to say. My physiotherapist says that pretty much only shots or surgery are going to be offered to me as options. I’m not keen on either, but will take the shots just to feel like a normal person again. Heh. Like that is possible…

Right, let me find a picture to cheer myself up… Oh yes, here we go.

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Okay maybe it’s too big. But I didn’t want you to miss the flailing kitty-arm! Neko and Spotty were having a big game that day, and I took a ton of photos I wanted to upload, and hubby took a video. I’ve just not gotten a round tuit yet for a real post, so I might put this shot up again later.

Right, need to go make a salad – one of these days I’ll share my dad’s dressing with you, it’s amazingly good and so easy!

Must be smarter than the cup.

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This is my coffee cup.

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I fill it at home and take it to work every day, where it gets cold but sipped on nonetheless. I never finish what’s in my ‘go-cup’. But I drink over half of it when I’m driving to work and it’s still warm.

The thing is… my cup is smarter than I am. See that little round hole? That’s there to let air in so the liquid inside can flow out of the big hole. Such a simple thing. Which defeats me several times a day.

Because the tip of my nose exactly touches right where that little hole is, and seals it up.

I can’t seem to remember to turn the cup a little, oh no. I’d rather think ‘what the..?’ several times in the space of a 15 minute drive.

Clearly the cup is the cleverest one around here.

I’m in a Good Mood… Should I be Worried?

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I finally have had the time and motivation to read posts from blogs I follow, and comment, and I’m also goofing around on a few FB feeds, and in general I have a big stupid smile on my face.

It feels a bit strange, I haven’t had one of these things on my mug for a while! But, of course, I wouldn’t be me unless I dissected why it is, exactly, that I am in a good mood…

Now, before you go thinking that I’ve turned all sappy and soft and that this is going to be a list of stuff that I’m grateful for – well, it might be. I’m cheerful! It’s rare! But HEY! I’m not soft and sappy so just shut that train of thought down, ok?

Right! Easy one: it’s Friday, and I don’t have to go anywhere until tomorrow night, and I don’t have to go to work for two whole days which means I don’t have to get depressed again until mid-afternoon on Sunday.

Tomorrow I get to go to a housewarming party which I am looking forward to immensely. People I like, a comfortable flat, a greyhound and a kitty to play with, and iDJ doing the tunes! Oh, and home-cooked fooooooood. All-around winner!

The happyish feeling of having caught up, a bit, with what is going on in everyone else’s blogworld. I went away, mentally, for a bit there. I didn’t want to comment or read anything, and I didn’t much feel like changing that situation. I think I’ve staved (stiven? No. But it should be a word) that off for now. I’m glad to be back and interacting again. Hopeful that this carries on.

I made a really, really, bad joke tonight that not even I laughed at. I didn’t laugh because I was amazed at my own brilliance at such short notice. I boggled at my own wit. Someone had to, other than my hubby who didn’t laugh either, but actually clapped. I’m not sure what that means, as he gets the brunt of my fast-thinking humour – unlike this writing kinda humour that requires me to think and spell at the same time.

He said I did a bad job of posting my hilarity on FB, so here’s the long version: he was nattering away about electronics needed for tomorrow night’s housewarming gig, and I was sort of listening but not really understanding much of what he was saying. He talks a lot, and I’m not a DJ. He just needs to say it out loud to get it clear in his head, and I don’t even smile and nod any more… Eventually he lost interest himself in what he was saying and noticed that Lokii was sitting next to my leg and licking himself.

Imagine, if you can, my Irish hubby speaking in a Beavis or Butthead voice: ‘Heh. Lokii’s licking his ass.’

I looked down. Lokii was not licking his ass.

“He’s licking his elbow.”

Small pause.

“Are you telling me you can’t tell his ass from his elbow?”

Drumroll, hi-hat crash, I rock. Thank you, I’ll be here all week!

With a big stupid smile on my face, hopefully.

Random 3

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About seven years ago, I noticed that I had one really, really, long arm hair.

I named it Harvey.

And Harvey was my friend until he disappeared one day.

I just noticed that he is back, if not quite as long as he was back then. Still, he’s near about two inches long – which is pretty impressive for a fine blonde hair.

I might be starting to understand why old men let their ear hairs grow.

Wonder if they name them.

Now for something completely different…

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My friend over at Lifelong Photo Exposure does a post now and again (never often enough! hint hint) called Puzzle Wednesday. I thought I might steal the idea just this once and see if you can tell what this is!

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Random Two

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Every time we buy chicken wings I have to wash them, thoroughly, and remove all traces of feathers. I don’t want to eat any feathers, ever. It’s a long, arduous task and kills my back. It’s also boring and a bit disgusting. Every time I clean wings, I think of all of my vegetarian friends and I’m jealous that they will never, ever, have to do this.

But I never think of them once when I’m crunching away on my dinner of on oh-so-tasty hot wings.

Random One

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I had no idea that Cee Lo Green was a woman. And I’m glad. I’ve heard the name, and think it belongs to a musician, but never saw her until just now because she apparently has a cat.

I kind of like my priorities in this case: cats over crappy modern music.

I still think ‘Cee Lo Green’ sounds like a male gangsta rapper, though.

Totally n completely random.

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I’m pretty much inebriated. Yay! But here I am nonetheless, willing to talk shite. Wait, shouldn’t that be nonetheless? Ok it just looks odd… I trust predictive text a bit too much, especially when in my cups.

I want to know when that miniature American flag appeared upstairs, situated in one of my coddled, overwintered, tomato plants. The veg is my domain, indoor or out – why are my ‘maters suddenly patriotic for a country they never lived in? iDJ has some ‘splainin to do. It’s not even July 4 yet…

So, em, why am I here, again? I have no real reason. Maybe I just want to test my iPad’s idea of what I mean to say against what it thinks I mean to say. Gotta say, it knows me and knows me well. It still tries to correct me when I type anyhoo – and just did again – but I do that for a reason! I want you to read me the way I speak – and I use slang, and ‘bad language’ all the time, every day.

I’m endlessly fascinated with the differences in pronunciation, common expressions, and just plain expletives people use in my adoptive country. As an American by birth who had a mother who wouldn’t even say ‘pee,’ or ‘fart,’ it is a real release for me to be able to say, all the time, the seven words you can’t say as listed by my comedic hero, George Carlin.

He doesn’t even get close to what I hear (or say) here, though. Yesterday I heard an Irishman put together the most impressive string of blasphemous complaints that I refuse to type it out – because at this point in my ramble it would just be crass instead of my usual take on a ‘bad’ word being the right word at the right time. However, I’m surprised that such a ‘religious’ and Catholic culture seems perfectly fine with words that… well, they are just words… are horrifying to so many in my home country.

And, being rather drunk – I feel the extreme need to share the best one ever! I’ll be polite for the moment, but be warned: anyone who asks will get the answer in the comments…

Goofy photos – I’m in a ‘mood.’

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I wanted to do a Brushes drawing this eve, as it has been yonks upon yonks since I have. My idea was to find a pic of something in my garden and give a quick, fun once over.

To find the pics, I had to hit FB and troll through thousands of pics me and iDJ have taken.

I got distracted.

So here’s some randomness. It’s mostly Spottie, as he is just adorable.

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Him on the radiator cat bed we used to have, until Lokii ate it.

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Spot being a ho for sunshine by the front door.

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Me and Spottie in a rare foray into the outdoors. What are you lookin at? It’s not his fault I made him go upside down so his bits were on display…

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No comment.

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More proof that I buy dog toys for me, not the dog. It has a fart-honk-quack noise in the head, and I walked around the shop for ages randomly hugging it just to hear the honk, and giggling. I even did it in the queue for the register. I couldn’t help myself.

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Hubby’s caption for this is best,”No computer for you!”

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Me cleaning my Harley. I’ve nearly forgotten what it looks like… this is not the country for motorcycling. Judging from the size of the tulips, this was taken about this time of year – but it wasn’t last year 😦

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Best buddies! Spot really is an all-species-friend. He’d probably cuddle up to a parrot, if I ever got one…

You’re welcome, butt-cheeks.

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I’ve been ‘spring’ cleaning today. The quotation marks are there because while it is undoubtably spring, I haven’t cleaned properly since before Christmas. Pretty much that makes this ‘much-delayed-post-holiday’ cleaning.

I knew I’d put off a good cleaning too long when I found a paper party hat that came out of a Christmas cracker under the couch. And a bit of a Pringle chip, which is something I only allow myself when I am on holiday and eat a whole can at one sitting. The Diet does not exist during holidays, and why should it? I’m pudgy because I love food (if you can really call Pringles food) and the holidays are about enjoying yourself. Well, mine are.

And: don’t I have a dog to take care of things like stray food on the floor? Sheesh, do your job, Neko.

Anyhoo, I went whole-hog with my cleaning efforts. This is not a one day, or even a one week, task. I take the DVD’s down and wipe or vacuum them. Same the books (less damp-wiping, natch). All the geegaws and knickknacks are wiped, vacced, or actually washed. I have a lot of crap. A lot of interesting and precious things, I mean. Nah, I was probably closer with ‘crap.’

In any case, it’s MY crap, and I’m sick of not being able to tell if a CD is Tori Amos or Metallica or Supertramp because of the thick layer of dust and dog hair covering my small collection of music.

Dust… when you think about it, or to be more realistic, do not think about it, it’s sort of clean. Until you remove some. Then everything that is still dusty looks like shite. Sigh.

I am, actually, a bit of a ‘clean freak,’ above observations notwithstanding. My house is an absolute mess, but it’s not dirty. (I already said dust is clean, right?) I mean, it’s not muddy or greasy or covered in sticky stuff that is better off not closely examined. There is just so much damn stuff! I wish I could be more minimalist like my sister, or my best friend, but… I hoard. There’s nothing like not having things to make you appreciate having things, to excess.

Which brings me, at length, to the reason for this post. Finally. Heh.

Last night the hubby, iDJ, was saying how he’d like to buy me a bigger, nicer, pillow to sit on in front of the fireplace. He first suggested a beanbag chair, which I vetoed as it would be too high, and I learned a long time ago that beanbag chairs are extraordinarily attractive to cats. For use as a toilet. Very much a situation where they were covered in sticky stuff better not examined – or smelled.

His next suggestion was a large, flat, but still fluffy, pillow. One sort of like…yes, exactly like…the dog bed my sister has for her greyhound. You cannot imagine my pleasure in hearing that my loving hubby thinks I should sit on a dog bed.

See, there’s nothing wrong with the little pillows I sit on. Yes, they are hairy – what isn’t in this house? Yes, they are really, really flattened from me squashing them with my pudgy arse for over a year. And yep, now that I think about it, they are probably over twenty years old.

So, because I’m a cheapo, tight-arse, hoarding type: during my cleaning frenzy I tossed my flat, old, hairy pillows into the dryer for 20 minutes to fluff them up and get some of the hair off. Worked like a charm! Too much charm for one of them, though – it went all lumpy. When I finally plunked myself down to rest it just was…horrible. The Diet has worked well enough since Christmas that my arse is a bit more bony and didn’t appreciate the new lumpy feeling underneath it.

Dammit, I don’t want to sit on a dog bed!

And still being a cheapo tight-arse, I decided I could pull all the stuffing out and see if it was fluffable. Super easy; they made pillows with zippers 20 years ago, and the fibre-fill was right there for removing. So I did, and I proceeded over the next 15 minutes or more to make a puffy mountain of filler in my living room.

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I never would have done this if I hadn’t vacuumed and – shock of shocks – mopped! today.

Now, how the living hell am I meant to fit all that back into a case that is only about 18″/46cm square?

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Empty case for size.
Well, it came outta there, so it has to fit back in, right? Never mind that I’ve never done this before, and the chances of my creating an even lumpier pillow are quite high. Also never mind that the cats and dog are watching me make this shreddy, entertaining disaster. I can only hope they are smart/obedient enough to realise this is only something two-legs are allowed to do… but you see how Neko’s giant octopus toy is right next to the fluff-pile – yes, she was holding it and observing me closely. Damn…

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Final result, with the other, non-fluffed pillow for comparison. I done good! It wasn’t that much work, saved me at least €20 of well-intentioned hubby purchases, and it really does feel a lot better to sit on. Of course, now I’ll have to fluff the other one, too…

I will admit that the first time I sat down, I rolled right off the back of the suddenly-pouffy pillow and nearly cracked my head on a bookshelf. At least I wouldn’t have gotten dust in my hair.