Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Fun project. Need your help

In the spirit of all these postcard projects floating about, I had an idea.

I find people's fears fun. Not their scary fears, the kind that keep you up at night, but the silly ones that have absolutely no basis in reality. For example, I don't like to swim in lakes because of Lake Zombies. I know they're in there just WAITING to grab my ankle and pull me under. Then I would be a Lake Zombie too.

Here's where you come in. Draw it up. Make me some art. I want to create a scrapbook of everyone's silly fears. Put it on a post card and send or give it to me. Pass it on. Tell anyone. The more the merrier.

It can be anonymous. But it needs to be postcard size: 4 x 6, because the intent is to be able to put the book on my coffee table and take it with me when I visit people. Plus if you mail it, postcards are cheaper to mail.

Here's some legal stuff to cover my butt in case I want to publish someday...

By submitting information, you grant Gina C a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that information at its sole discretion, including storing it on internet servers and incorporating it in other works in any media now known or later developed including without limitation published books.

If you do not wish to grant Gina C these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit information to her. Gina C reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions.*

send to

Gina C
PO Box 52
Lakeside, CA 92040

Oh, I can't WAIT to see if people send it in!!!

*Full last name deleteed for my safety. in this case, Gina C is also known as Ginamonster

I never thought it would be ok

But first, a bit of madness.

There's a guy that I work with who is unbelievably handsome. And he epitome of sweetness, politeness, and all those good qualities that you like in a person. He's also extremely married. Since I have known this fellow for quite a few years now, I have grown used to his looks and I know how much he adores his wife and child, which of course makes him all the more endearing.

Now I am hardy a prude, generally, when it comes to conversation, but when he made blatent innuendos and comments today I was shocked. and a bit embarassed, as he has never talked to me that way before. The other guys I work with? of course. With them I give as much as I get and we all leave laughing. I think I was just surprised because I don't think of this guy along the same lines as the other guys I know. Perhaps I put him on a bit of a pedestal because he hasn't ever flirted wwith me before. And in the future I will be etter prepared for that kind of attention from him. I will also be more careful with refering to "them being size D" (the DRAWINGS he needed copied) and consider the wording on my request form (loose, or stapled?) a little more carefully in the future. I'm not used to being caught off guard like that.

Speaking of caught off guard, It's Girl Scout Cookie Time. and yes the scouts came a knockin a couple of weeks ago, and yes I bought even though I know I should only buy from Emily (I am a terrible Aunt. I didn't buy from Emily). When the girls came last time, (there were three of them) they came in and checked out the bird while I made my choices. (and took a little tour about the house) I thought it a little odd, how trusting they were of me, but I do live in a fairly small town and I think they could have taken me out if needed. My head was reeling after they left. High energy, those girls.
Today they returned to bring me my cookies. I happened to be reading in my room after taking off my work clothes. I threw some clothes on and answered the door to a whole gaggle of children on my doorstep. 3 or 4 girls, 2 boys and 2 puppies, one small child. They all came in. I even allowed the dogs in my apartment. They milled about for a minute among the mess then wandered back out again. Like something from Our Gang, only preteens. Kinda cool, actually, in hindsight. Once they were gone I realized that I had just let a whole group of kids parade through my house with thier dogs, and I didn't mind a bit. Actually, I kind of enjoyed the momentary hullabaloo. A very funny feeling, for me.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

In light of renewed arguments

Bought forth by certain individuals in comments made towards posts printed in early January, I would like to say the following,

At risk of sounding as if I am prepared to make argument and cause myself to appear a fool by arguing with one, I will defend myself such,

That if you were to read my posts before I proofread them and make the needed improvements you would find the resulting copy to be much improved. In fact, much of my vocabulary is wasted on my lack of spelling skills. Never have I tried to present myself in the manner of an English Scholar, and therefore should not be expected to maintain perfect spelling and grammer. In short, I am human and admittedly imperfect. I write the way I think and speak, for the most part.

Ifn ya don't like it, bugger off. this is MY blog. created for my need to expound myself in a public forum. That people come here, read, and are entertained is a joyous flattery that I would never have thought possible. I am certain that there have been many who have popped in and moved on. Never to return. Feel free to follow in their footsteps if you don't like my misspellings.

This is the only response you will receive here in return to your accusations that I think by myself and not for myself, and that I flow the "spirit of the age"

I spent some time reading this article http://alesrarus.funkydung.com/archives/2211 at the suggestion of Mr Funky Dung. As I commented, I found the article to be well written and objective, something that in my initial predjudice, surprised me. In a good way. It neither changed my opinions or hardened them, but it was interesting to see things spelled out in a manner that was intelligent. and Non argumenitive. If I were a by myself sort of thinker, I think you would have found me small minded enough to ignore the article and indeed small minded enough to laugh off the idea of reading it. Some excellent points were indeed made in the article. I will maintain my own belief on the subject and leave you to yours. We will not change each other's minds.

I flow with the spirit of my heart and soul. I make decisions based on my own conjecture and build my beliefs according to life as I learn it. Or at the very least I try to. This has nothing to do with the spirit of an age which I find to be rather promiscuous and self serving. I can only be the guardian of myself and my own destiny. Preaching to others does not assist in my spiritual growth, as it is quite possible that I will find myself later to be quite incorrect. I can lead by example, by being kind because I have exeperienced unkindness, and by avoiding the mistakes I have made in the past. Do I fuck up sometimes? all the time. but I hope that I am understanding and openminded enough to see that other people do too. and I hope that I do not too often try and set my standards on others. You are entitled to openly express your opinion, not only of me but of my blog. I will never delete your comments as the opinions of others are interesting to me and I do believe in free speech. But please expect a full rebuttal when my character and intelligence is questioned.

Friday, February 23, 2007


From an earlier post, I incorrectly stated that Galelio was burned at the stake for heresay. The following is an excerpt from a biography on him:

"Galileo's support for the heliocentric theory got him into trouble with the Roman Catholic Church. In 1633 the Inquisition convicted him of heresy and forced him to recant (publicly withdraw) his support of Copernicus. They sentenced him to life imprisonment, but because of his advanced age allowed him serve his term under house arrest at his villa in Arcetri outside of Florence."

Thanks to Funky Dung for helping me to see my mistake, and my abject apologies for spreading falsehoods. I do not believe that I was lying, as I believed the information to be true.

Meanwhile, Funky, I may be misunderstanding the Catholic teachings on Sexuality, but it seems as though the teachings and beliefs are not always understood even by those following the religion. Yours, or even your priest's definition might be completely different from other Catholics interpretation. Not to sound small minded or uneducated, but I don't really care what the Catholic Church teaches about sexuality as I am not Catholic and chances are I will not agree based on what I do know about the subect teachings of the faith. (beyond, of course, informational reading and learning for the joy of it) I do not believe that consensual sex between adults is sinful. I maintain that you may believe and behave as you choose as long as it does not infringe upon my rights to believe and behave as I choose. With a consentual adult. And no, I don't want to discuss how this opens up the door to polygamy and adultery. And no, I don't want to discuss how this may or may not bend the morality of this great country of ours. Will I visit your blog? of course. I am thrilled to see that you visited mine and decided to comment. I am generally up for an even exchange of ideas and sincerely appriciate that you brought my incorrect post to my attention. Will I continue to visit? Of course I will, if I find it to be interesting and entertaining. You may very well have very interesting insight into this inflamitory issue. I am definately interested in views. But I will not argue with you. It's an argument neither of us can win, and we will only make ourselves look foolish by trying.

Blessings upon you and yours.

Thursday, February 22, 2007


Had a terrible nightmare last night. The kind where you wake up and you don't want to go back to sleep because you don't want to return to the horrors.

Senseless brutal murders going on. Bodies everywhere. I knew who the next victim was and I couldn't get to him. Couldn't find him. I was at his house. So was the murderer. So were his children. It all felt so real. I don't understand why my mind would send me pictures like that. It's like I was there. The memories and pictures are still right there in my mind. I can't seem to shake the overall feeling. No one was safe.

I don't have nightmares very often. Perhaps that is what upsets me the most. Still can't shake it. it was so real...

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Oh. oops

I'm going through my high school senior yearbook tonight trying to get inspiration for the Senior Year Project since my CD is supposed to be there on Friday and I am a total procrastinator. Here's what I noticed...

That I sang with some pretty condescending people. Not just the one that I have always felt that way about, but several others too. Maybe I am just sensitive in hindsight, but being told by my peers that I've "come a long way this year in choir" sounds a bit like, "you kinda sucked before but not as much now". And it's true, I did grow vocally my last two years of HS, but I will credit that to weekly singing lessons. Had the words been written by one of my close cohorts, I would still be flattered. But these were from the Drama folks that snubbed me all the way through. no wonder I have an aversion to actors.

The other thing I noticed was that I happened accross a picture of a boy that I had a crush on and 10(+) years later I have to say that I agree with my mom. I think he was gay. Actually, I think I heard through the grapevine that he did come out gay. No pun intended. He also turned out to be a crack head. Gay I can accept. Crack head is sad. I'm not saying that every man that isn't interested in me is gay, only that this one probably was. I mean based on the picture. I had forgotten until I started typing that he really is. Shoot. I'm digging myself deep. And no, I don't think there is a gay "look". but I have pretty good gaydar, if occationally delayed when faced with dashing good looks, and he? looked quite on the feminine side. and honestly? not really all that good looking after all.

Speaking of dashing good looks, I listenened to a couple of seconds of Robin Thicke's music and um. It doesn't appear to be to my taste. But he's still good looking.

Sign me up

Robin Thicke

Apaprently he's a singer. I shall be very dissapointed if he's not a good one. Cuz, you know, he's a very attractive man. Put him on my list!

Monday, February 19, 2007

Might be an overshare

I don't discuss health issues here, at least not physical heath issues (my mental health being somewhat questionable, especially when attractive men are around) because I am generally in great shape (lack of physcal exercize notwithstanding) However I do occationally suffer from an ailment we have all become quite familiar with due to an uprising in radio comercials called IBS. I manage my symptoms with diet. Mainly, I don't eat potatoes or cabbage. Or cauliflower. Trust me, it's for the best. I miss potatoes. For some reason I can eat french fries. Damnit.

I was recently made aware of a product on the market called Activia. It's supposed to enhance digestive health. Sounds like miracle yogurt to me! Well, i happened to be at my local warehouse store and happened o notice that I can buy it by the case and I thought, "Hey! If one of those a day will make my innards happy then I'll be happy to carry that box around"

I get to the front. Get in line. And the checker...is cute. Looked twice cute. Stared covertly to make sure, cute. (yup. still cute) And I'm thinking, "Not only am I picking up a copy of A Prairie Home Companion, but I'm buying a product that basically has a red flag on it saying I CAN'T er...digest my food in a timely manner" He had to scan it twice. Which means he gave that yogurt more than a glance.

I picked up my chick flick and my new Sinatra CD (points for Sinatra, come on) and went to grab the offending box in order to scurry out and plop. the yogurt containers came dancing right out of the box. I have now been calling attention to myself for far too long. thank GOODNESS the cups were stuck together. They slid right back into the box.

I practically ran out the door.

The question of the day is, Will I ever stop being a freak about these things? I mean, I will never be the kind of woman who announces that I do anything but tinkle, and we all know that I refuse to be held responsible for anything I do in my sleep, especially when I have snuck a bite of coleslaw, so i'm not likely to become open about other body finctions either. I'm not even comfortable buying girly stuff.

On one hand, I can say that at least it wasn't a jumbo box of condoms. on the other, if it were, I'd be getting some, right? But it wasn't. Just live bacteria cultures for me to eat. It wasn't like the time I was buying the ginormous size Seagrums 7 for the desert trip and they had to do a price check. And the checker was waving the bottle around so the whole store could see what a boozer I am. that was ALL I bought that day. At least it wasn't a huge bottle of fiber. That would have been a real red flag.

In my head I am going to pretend that I pretended it was for my mom. Or grandma. The dead one.

I really am derranged.

Sunday, February 18, 2007


We all choose to honor out ansestors in different ways. Some visit thier graves regularly, some build elaborate alters.

The dissolution of my family has bothered me for many years. It seems as though it began with the passing of my great grandmother and Joe in 1995 (it was disfunctional long before that) and it was definately sped along by the death of my grandmother.

When my father went to jail the first time after her death, I was the one who took him to the courthouse. He called me at work and told me that I was the only one he could trust. It was at that time that he gave me power of attorney so that I could take care of things while he was incarcerated. I was supposed to live in the house, but couldn't. that's a story for another day. As we drove there, I think he believed that he would get off with a warning. The judge was not feeling altogether friendly towards him that day and threw him in. I hope you never have to experience the pain of watching your father led away in handcuffs.

I took the opportunity while he was gone to salvage a few things from the house. He had told me to take them, for safe keeping, although he denys that now. I wish I could have taken more, but I didn't like going there. I grabbed what I could. The rocking chair that belonged to my great great grandmother. The one my sister wants to rock her babies in. My grandmother's wooden clogs, remnants of her childhood living with her father in a Dutch Colony in Iowa. (someone used them as an ashtray) and China. one box and one large bin of china. I wasn't able to take it all. It was the rest of the china that we wanted from the storage unit, along with the antiques. Much of the China was gathered overseas during World War II. Some of it from Occupied Japan. This was my family legacy since Daddy spent all the money and cashed in all the stocks.

When the fires raged through San Diego County in 2003, when I could clearly see the flames and my electricity was out, I packed up my critters, the china, rocker, some clothes and pictures and left. I stayed at C's house in the valley. The heirlooms went where I went that week.

It all stayed in boxes. I moved it several times but never had a place for it. It has always bothered me. I feel as though my grand and great grand parents are unhappy with the way things went. The Ma is turning in her grave and if GG and joe had graves (creamated) they would be turning back flips. They used to make thier presence knowing in the house. They are not unhappy that I had not unpacked the china, it's everthing else.

Today I brought home a china cabinet. I finally found one at the right price. the REALLY right price. I spent the day washing dishes and filling it up. When I was done, I finally felt as if I had done something to honor their memory. I finally felt peace. It is the peace you feel when you know that you have done the right thing. I know it's just stuff. I know that my ansestors are not really spiritually attached to it. I hope that they're drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and talking shit in the afterlife. Something in me says they aren't. But something also tells me that I did something today that makes it a little more right.

there is an undenyable relief in it.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Why did she do that?

A coworker told Officer Yummy that we call him such. We can't figure out why she did that. In the course of the conversation, she learned that there is someone special in OY's life. Which really doesn't change anything in my world because I remain the girl who pours the coffee. But it makes it a little less fun hen he comes in. That whole anticipation and possibility thing. Oh well. NEXT!!

Friday, February 16, 2007

Break it down now

I finally broke down and asked the Magic Pirate Head if I was going to get a return Email fom Interesting Man. The reply?

"No way, ARRGGGH"

I didn't push that line of questioning because if I started asking too many questions, my feelings would get hurt and, well, there is still the possibility that the magic pirate head could be wrong about some things. Amazingly enough though, it made me feel better.

today when I got home from work I asked if he recieved the email, and it said yes. But he may not have read it (it wasn't clear about that). Regardless, I'm going to leave it alone. Let myself be surprised, or not, as the case may be. We will just have to see!

In other somewhat related news, C and I had an interesting discussion on the way to the Airport regarding the way out minds create and control our lives. this idea is often illustrated in my own life by the people I meet when I need to meet them and the seemingly serendypidous way my life often goes. one point rang loud and clear. That to invite success, it is best to feel what success would feel like, not focus on how to get there.

And I realized that love is likely the same way. In order to invite it into my life, I would do well to remember what it feels like to love and be loved. Not in a sexual way, but that happiness and joy of being with someone you really care about, who cares for you in return. So often, I try to remember that and galloping in comes the memory of how lonely it feels to be without it. And the doubt that anyone will come along soon. Therefore, I allow myself to sabotage my chances by overriding the good with the not so good, and I invite more lonliness instead. I'm really going to work on that. Can't hurt right? Who doesn't need an attitude shift once in awhile? And while I didn't realize I might have been undermining my good intentions, I obviously was. I'm also going to stop reminding myself of how much it sucked to be with someone that wasn't right for me. I do that. I thought I was comforting myself in the idea that often we are better off alone than miserable, but it looks like I was hurting myself more.

It feels good to grow a little.

Thursday, February 15, 2007


I'm not going to post for long because i need to do laundry, vacuume, and change my clothes beore 7-ish. Here is the update...

No, Shqipo, sadly Interesting Man has not answered my email. I am telling myself all sorts of things to keep me from going off the deep end because honestly, my ego really is that fragile. Here are the excuses I am giving myself in the order that they tend to pop into my head.

He thought it was spam.
My spam catcher got his reply
He hasn't checked his email
He hasn't had time to craft his reply (a simple yes or no would suffice)
The answer is no and he doesn't want to hurt my feelings
(Mental reminder that T can only write once a week or so and Bean even less. You just never know what is going on in someone's life)
He thinks, due to casual observing, that I have something going with someone else or that perhaps I am making the rounds. (another story)
My crack was hanging out of my jeans and, ick. (my sister said it wasn't, but maybe she just didn't see)
That funny smell in the bathrom was caused by me (it WASN'T. it was totally my brother in law's swim trunks because the spa smelled funny)
I wish I knew how to make bullit points
I curse too much
I teased him about this and that too much (in which case either of those being a deal breaker would mean that he is DEFINATELY too sensitive to spend large amounts of time with me, cuz I only tease you if I like you and am comfortable with you and as long as there are no children present, I think a well timed "Fuck!" is completely appropriate.)
That discussion at dinner about how sometimes when I'm sleeping and I ate potatoes for dinner, and I'm really relaxed...(thanks sis..)To which I replied that I refuse to be held responsible for anything I do in my sleep.
He's turned off by my spinning (which he was asking questions about it so I don't think that is the case)
He's not interested
He's only interested in one thing. My snickerdoodle recipe
I wish I could spell recipe with confidence
He's an asshole.

At which point I remind myself not to be an idiot and to quit obsessing and for goodness sakes get back to work, you have more than plenty to do and use some fricking punctuation already and move along and maybe if you are lucky Officer Yummy will come into the store on Friday night for some eye candy action. And if you are really lucky then Interesting Man will respond positively and if nothing else you will at least have gotten to know him better which would be cool because you think he is interesting. Or if you are slightly less lucky, he will respond with a polite no (because I have really never seen him be anything but polite) and you can quit being a freak for a little while.

I refuse to ask the Magic Pirate Head one way or another. And that is where it is.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Remember the scarf?

I finally finished it. C will take it with him on Thursday. If the first one was too short, this one more than makes up for it. It's over 6 feet long! And no the colors are not well represented and yes, i kow it doesn't go with my red flannel shirt, but i t was either that or another bra shot and I am feeling shy today.


Random giant banana plant I found in Old Town. At least I think it's a giant banana. Correct me if I am wrong. It was lovely. The flower? bigger than my head.

No word. As my friends keep reminding me, it's only been two days. I am an impatient individual. However I did manage NOT to even turn on my computer last night, which was good because it would have been a bit of a waste of time. However, I did get some pillows made for my couch, so I was able to channel my energy somewhere else. I also made a batch of soap, read my book, watched movies....Thank goodness I have plans for tonight and tomorrow night. Actually, I will be having a massage after work tomorrow. I'm overdue and my body hurts. Here are the pillows...

Sunday, February 11, 2007

another try at moving on

I remembered as I was driving down the mountain today that it has been 2 years, today, since I met T. I didn't think of him all weekend. I was and am proud of myself.

I still have tough days. I don't talk about them. It's a tired subject. And I, myself don't understand why I hang on so tenaciously.

I sent Interesting Man an email asking him to dinner. I wasn't thinking about what today is. I wasn't thinking that he could be someone who could finally wipe the memories away. I was thinking that I would like to have dinner with this nice man and that if I don't suggest it, it is likely that he never will. I hit the send button before I could talk myself out of it. I have been making myself ill with anxiety ever since. I just checked my email for the third time. Another email came in while I was writing this. I can't decide if I should check now or wait until I am finished with this post. I forwarded the email to the girls so that they would see that I made a move. I know that Wendy was frustrated with me that I hadn't.

It was bulk mail.

When I am done here, I am going to turn off the computer. I won't turn it back on tonight, that is how I am. I will pop in a movie, maybe something inspirational, and go put away my clothes or make something I can be proud of. I have a couple of batches of soap that want to be made. Yarn that wants to be spun and pillows that have waited nearly a year to be covered. I need to vacume. So many things that are so much more productive than checking my email every five minutes only to discover more junk mail or spam. spam mail. not the canned meat. we've been through this.

Deep breath. publish. off.

Return from the "snow"

And by "snow" I mean that there was snow on the ground but only in patches and it did not fall out of the sky.

It was a really great weekend. No drama, really and it was nice to spend time with my sister, as always. Developed a harmless crush on one of the crew. (I met him and liked him a bit last year. I was happy to see that he would be there this year) A good one of the crew, who seems like a nice guy even if he is a bit on the quiet and shy side. Which is kind of bad since I am also on the quiet and shy side. But he likes my cookies, which you know, earns him serious brownie points. Do I think anything will become of it? Of course not. Did I hear my sister invite him to camp with us on easter? damn right I did. She looks out for me. Actually, she gives her full blessing on this one. Wendy was dong her best to help me "hookit up" (if you will) but I got all panicy because I just wasn't comfortable chasing after him. Which, of course, it was pointed out, is the problem. But I think that when the mere suggestion of offering someone the rest of my cookies sends me into a complete panic and makes me want to cry, then I shouldn't do it. They say the you should do something that scares you every day. I think driving in Southern California should cover that, but I don't think they mean that you should do something every day that makes you want to go curl up and hide behind the toilet.

I (re)learned, during the course of the weekend (actually, rather quickly on Friday night) that sometimes a person is nice and interesting on email but they will drive you crazy in person. Saturday, after hours of constant chatter and one sided dialog, I finally went in to go clean the kitchen (yeah. I used CLEANING as an excuse to run away) and was followed. I really tried to be nice, I tried to be interested in the conversations, but if I don't want to sit and chat with someone about yarn, you know I'm not interested in chatting. Plus, at one point, I was trying to watch a movie, and it was the sort you actually have to WATCH and still, the chatter, in my ear. However, a person can only handle so much spam conversation and badgering about how I should eat the meat-like substance (and if I eat pepperoni I should eat spam, it doesn't matter if I don't like it because it's good). One can only argue that she doesn't NEED nor can she AFFORD a herd of Musk Ox in order to have the very valuable fiber to spin and sell and no she cannot just pay someone in Siberia very little to take care of them. And no she doesn't need an alpaca. I lightly snoozed through the conversation with my sister about how if the resident baby cried enough, sis would start lactating because she's a woman and that's how it works (my sister has never given birth). I believe I was holding said baby (who is just darling and slept the whole time) while he told Wendy that she would have, was it 15 children? Wendy isn't sure she wants any. population control, you know. It isn't like me to mostly ignore someone if possible, and it isn't like me to try and leave the room when said person enters, or avoid entering the room all together (especially when interesting fellow is in the room because you know, the only way to get to know someone is to be around them) and I feel really bad because I don't think I was being very nice and it is not like me to treat someone with anything less than courtesy. I tell myself that it's ok because I was running off the to bathroom (but only if I actually had to go) just for a moment of silence. 4000 square feet and I could only find solice in the bathroom.

BUT between the Air Hocky and Street Fighter, the bigscreen and indoor jacuzzi (which smelled terrible but we went in anyway) we had a wonderful time. I lost count of how many times I laughed so hard I cried, not counting the time I was laughing and crying a little from embarassment when I got my bracelet stuck on the hooks of my spinning wheel and couldn't get undone.

yeah. it was a good weekend.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Who wants a Beaver?? I do I do!

As many of you well know, the inside of my tower apartment looks, at any given moment, like a heard of sheep has passed thorough leaving wool and yarn in piles behind them. (and old mail. why do those damn sheep keep leaving old mail??) As you also know, I must be part Elf on account of my urge to craft incesscently and my green shoes. Unfortunate for my crafty urges, I am wearing my green shoes right now...

I think I pulled a muscle trying to get my foot up near my face in these rather tight fitting jeans. I suppose I could have taken the shoe off, but it wouldn't have been as much fun. But thank goodness, once again for my wonderous IMac, without which I could not take all these wacky pictures of myself because I rarely have visitors in the tower.

So I'm surfing about on Craftster , as I am wont to do when I should be doing other things, in this case cleaning the bird cage and baking cookies before I wander off to the mountains tomorrow (real mountains, not the foothills that surround me) and I come accross a web link. Crafty Alien

I have to click on it because, well, it's an alien thing and the logo is way cute and the person who runs it said something about kits. Alien Kits? maybe. My sister would love that. Except that I found something far better. Yes indeedy over at Crafty Alien they teach you how to KNIT YOUR OWN FOREST CRITTERS. And they are way cute and totally inexpensive and I NEED a hedgehog one for my sister because they are fertility related and we want her to be fertile so that I can have babies to sew for and it's REALLY cute. (see??)

and I TOTALLY NEED the Beaver because. heh. I want to say that I knit a beaver, you know what I mean? I mean what's funnier than a knit beaver (other than a beaver hat, which Boy Roomie had and we giggled about it very time he wore it but no really, a knit beaver is better) I mean it's totally naughty sounding but WAY cute and innocent at the same time and I would LOVE to tell the boss one fine Monday that over the weekend I knit a beaver. (who wouldn't want this here beaver floating around the house?)

And beyond that I can't decide whether I want the skunk, the fox, the raccoon, bunny or squirrel ("dad-dy, I want a squi-rrel" dang. now I have to go watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I like the old oompa loompas better.) the bunny would be fun to give to Bug Guy because he was out um...pruning the bunnies the other day (if you know what i mean) and one ran into his leg and scared that absolute CRAP out of him. BUT I have always had a soft spot for raccoons, foxes and skunks. especially skunks. they look so SOFT and cuddly. like a cross between a dog and a cat, but stinkier so I wouldn't, you know, try and pet one, unless it was a KNIT skunk in which case it's ok because my knit skunk wouldn't stink.

Now, if she were offering a knit sheep I might just pee myself right here (and have to buy a new office chair because I wouldn't want to sit in this one anymore) because a knit sheep casually placed in front of my door might keep that heard of mail dropping maurauding sheep out of my house and I could wander around in the dark without worrying about getting roving caught between my toes. Or, you know, I could just clean house.

Now, we all know that in addition to being sickningly crafty, messy, and drop dead gorgeous (I made that last one up) I am very excitable. and when I find something I like, I can't get enough of it which, this time is NOT a new man crush but a blogger crush because TA DA!! she gots a blog and it made me smile so I'm a-linking to it too right here:
Crafty Alien Blog even though she hasn't updated in awhile because it's got pictures of her stuff and well, I need those magnets too. you know so I can...Um. maybe I don't NEED the magnets. but you do, so buy some already.

I might buy some stuff later. Likely when I have money again. But look out because you never know when I might knit YOU a beaver.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

God's Underwear

It occurred to me the other day that religion is like underwear.

Now, before you run me out on a line for being blasphemous, (yeah, I know, if you haven't by now...) hear me out. You have your typical Fundies. um. Fundimentalist Christians. I'm going to group the Muslims in here too, not because I think the faiths are alike, but, because they are often alike in their fervor. Now, I'm not talking about quiet faithful. I'm talking about the loud, in your face, suicide bombing, Bible thumping kind. the ones that approach you on the street corner and ask if you are saved. Their underwear would have to be the traditional Union Suit. Full on long johns with a butt flap and everything. These guys gotta show God and everybody how faithful they are. They have to make sure they are covered. completely covered, even though their underwear might be their only wear.

Middle Christians and Catholics? Regular faithful but not extreme Muslims? The ones who will tell you about God, but won't shove it in your face. Who go to church every Sunday and truly believe. I put the Hindu in here too. Those guys? they're wearing granny panties. (ok, briefs if you must insist that you don't wear panties) They don't mind if you see thier underwear, even if that means it's hanging out the top of thier pants...

Then there are those who believe but don't need a meeting. They worship quietly. Buhddist. Wicca (some. Some belong in granny panties). Christmas Catholics. Easter Christians. Bikinis. sometimes string, sometimes low rise. They like to know their ass is covered, but they don't like the complete cover of the brief, they definately have panty lines though.

Agnostic? Thong. totally. Ass might not be covered, but the naughty bits are.

Athiest? Commando. They don't need cover, there's no one checking!

Maybe I DO need to get back to working during the week...

Monday, February 05, 2007

I could have watched the game..

but instead I choose this. And I am so glad I did...

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Number 3? Get a life!

I am so glad that I am not supid. This just arrIved in my inbox...

"kind customer we inform it that for emergency issues it must renter its personal data and change password. It can make it at this address http://www.xsshare.com/forum//includes/paypal/ sincerely yours the direction paypal"

I guess I am an "it". I am so glad "The Direction Paypal" told me so. Otherwise, I might have remained ignorant. I had better rush over to the website so that I can change my user name and password and hopefully my bank account will be empty by the time I am off work this evening. Sheesh.

Speaking of which, I need to go. See? I do have a life. Sort of...wait...crap.

Two posts on a Saturday?

I was just invited via MySpace message, to go out for caramels. I offered the politest rejection of the invitation I could come up with. I just don't want to go there again. I have found nothing but trouble meeting guys on the internet and I do not wish to try again. It's just not the right way for me.

Plus, I still do not wish to date. The guy would have to be something spectacular. I would rather be alone than to waste any more kisses on toads who could be princes. I did not tell this to the fellow, although I did mention that I am not interesteed in meeting anyone from the internet anymore (except of course, for those of you who I have befriended over years of correspondence. and even then, it's not a romantic thing. Not even a possibly romantic thing)

So I was honest if not a bit harsh. Recognizing that I could be missing out on friendship, but really preferring to meet my friends face to face. I get a better "feel" for them that way. I thought better to be honest now rather than to risk hurt feelings (his or mine) later.


I spend a lot of time thinking about where I am in life, where I want to be, and where I have been. I realized today (not that I hadn't thought about it before, but it really hit me today) that I have been living in my current tower for a little over a year now. And that is the longest I have lived anywhere in the last three years. I have always considered myself the kind of person in need of a home. And I have tended to make a home for myself anywhere I was with the exception of living in Ramona, CA. It was never home for me.

As a child, we moved every three years, almost like clockwork. At the time, I didn't understand that my parents were doing their best to better the situation and moving was part of that process. Buying a house, then selling and moving to something bigger. When we packed up and left the Ramona house, life was uncertain and a bright future lay ahead. I felt the same way when I moved out of my mom's house 2 years ago this month. I think about where I was then.

Dating E, I had not yet met T. Meeting T changed my life. I was getting ready to move to the Lakeside house. I thought I would live there for a long time. Maybe even buy it someday. Moving into my tower was never on the adjenda, I don't even like apartments. But funny, I am happy here. I would still like to own somewhere. I am still working to that end, but messy as it is, I am comfortable here and do not see another move in my future. Not yet, anyway.

I have felt this way before though, in those gloriously happy months I lived with C. Even though we didn't plan to stay in that house, I did the best I could to make it my home, and I looked forward to investing in the next one together. In the next home, I could have more say in the decor because it would be mine too. I would be an equal owner.

that was not to be the life for me, despite what I thought, and I look back over the last three years and see how I have grown. I see the good decisions and the bad. But life has turned out good. Not at all the way I expected, but good. I have my business and my yarn, I have a set plan for becoming debt free, even though personal time has taken precident. I have my health, I have my family. I miss personal interactions. Some days are worse than others, but I think of how I made mistakes where men are concerened and I know that I am right in staying single. Not that there is anyone real on the horizon. Crushes don't really count when they don't even know your name.

I never thought, three years ago that I would be where I am today. That I would have moved three times and still manage to fill a two bedroom apartment. Three times three. A magic number. funny, I didn't realize that until now. Perhaps something interesting is about to happen after all.

Another thing that is causing ponders in my world is the abundance of babies that have popped into my world this month. I spent Wendesday evening with John, who's mother has been my friend for over half my life. Tomorrow, Beth, who's father has also been my friend for more than half my life. These are the friends that I think will be in my world forever, no matter how far they are, no matter how bad I am about writing or calling. I tell myself that their life isn't what I am supposed to be having right now, but I wonder if I ever will. And it hurts a little. Then I remind myself that there are likely things they envy about me too, and I realize that it's healthy to want what other people have, as long as it's just a little bit and you still appriciate your own good fortune. I could have compromised a long time ago. Settled down with D, even though doing so would have ended his dreams and made me crazy. Looked the other way when C was doing what he did, except that I am so proud of myself for having the courage to stand up and say it was wrong. I could have told T I wanted babies just to keep him. I don't know that it would have worked. And had I had his children, and not faced my issues the way I did, I would have resented them all. That is no way to live. No way to love.

Something tells me that had I settled, life would have gone crazy anyway. It just would have happened later. And I would have ended up right where I am. Spinning yarns in my tower. Likely without the bird and the big screen TV to keep me company. No, whether it was intentional or not, I chose a different life than that of my peers. And I need to remember that.