20061231

STILL Christmas??

So Peat and I are on our way to the other side of his family for Christmas again. I baked bread. I must say, I bake some awesome bread. Well, I bake some sucky bread too, but this is one of the awesome ones. Oatmeal cranberry walnut. I normally do them with a pentagram on the top of the cute little round loaves, but for this occasion, just a sort of asterisk is going to have to do.

That is, if we make it at all. We're supposed to be there in 15 minutes, and Peat's not back from the museum with Rocky yet.

20061227

Yule Schmule

I feel compelled to continue on my series about misappropriated pagan holidays, though I'm a little late and a little uninspired. Besides, we're in the middle of Christmas/Hanukkah/Yule/New Year's/Kwanzaa/etc., not to mention my anniversary coming up next week, and Erin and Leslie's birthdays, and who has time?

So Peat and I had a lovely holiday at his parents' house where we received lots of nice presents and booze and prime rib, but the biggest Christmas surprise was my sister announcing to the world that another virgo will soon be joining its ranks! Actually, the conversation went something like this:

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, rice man!"

"Huh?"

"You're the rice man."

"Um... is there some dissent about how long to steam it? Trouble with dinner?"

"No... Uncle Ben..."

"Oh. OH! D'oh..."

We actually had a very similar conversation about eight years ago just before she married Scott. It was actually one of those conversations like "So you're gay? Oh yeah, well I'm pregnant!"

Anyway, I have no idea at all why I'm at work today. Maybe I'll go clean off my desk.

Happy Holidays to all!
(Yeah, that's right, up yours, Walmart!)
Merry Christmahanukkwanzaakah
and

Happy Misappropriated Pagan Holiday Number One!

Blíða Jewl, ala ða verald!

Oh, that reminds me! I should blog about Þýdisc sometime! But not now.

20061212

La reine vive encore...

Well, I don't know if Stuart is alive or not, but someone just went up the stairs and slammed the door, and his mail from the last few days has been collected. Oh well. I was starting to enjoy the fantasy that he was being eaten by his cats.

20061210

La reine est morte! Vive la reine?

So I had a weird little encounter just now...

Most of you probably know about the ongoing drama with my upstairs neighbor, and those of you who don't, be glad to be spared the details! Major alcohol and and anger problems. We're talking Dahmer-level psycho-/sociopath just waiting for the right trigger to make him start eating people and having sex with their dead bodies as he's crocheting doylies out of their hair. I wish I could actually say that in hyperbolic jest, but I seriously think he's just that nuts.

Anyway, earlier this evening there was a knock at the door of the side porch. It was a woman I'd never seen before, looking for Stuart. I told her to go to the front and ring the bell, since he probably couldn't hear her knock on the side stairs. She asked me if he was okay, and I said I really didn't know, since I hadn't spoken to him in quite a while. Then she said that today is his birthday, and that she's his sister and hasn't spoken to him in over five years.

I felt a little sad for her, but I really didn't want to get into a conversation about Stuart. I mean, what would I tell her? "Yeah, your brother went nuts about a year ago and has alienated everyone in the neighborhood, and routinely threatens and verbally abuses them. And he's drinking again, and I think he got fired. And he's been having anonymous sex with meth addicts he meets online, 'cause I keep running into them in the hallway. But other than that, I hear he's doing just great!"

What stuck me as odd, though, is that he wasn't answering the bell, though his lights are on and his truck is here. I just went out a few minutes ago to distribute notices for Tuesday's board meeting, and I noticed that he also hasn't picked up his mail from Saturday. I wonder if he actually is all right. I usually can hear him stomping around (which is really funny, because before our falling out I never heard a single noise from him, but now he makes a point of walking quite heavily whenever he can) but I don't recall heaing him today. I don't remember the last time I heard him, but I'm sure I heard him a day or two ago.

That put me in a weird mood, so that's why I'm babbling about it now, just to put it down on paper (or LCD, anyway) and process it a little. I started wondering if maybe Stuart had done himself in or fell in the tub or in some other way met a perhaps-not-so-untimely end. Then I started feeling bad that I didn't really feel bothered by the thought that he just might be dead. Knowing Stuart, one of his tricks from manhunt.net probably killed him for drug money. Or just because.

Of course, he could just be sick, or not home and left his lights on and his truck here, or maybe he was just not answering the door. But I'm a little bothered by the thought that a small part of me enjoys the idea that Stuart just might no longer be with us. I'm slightly more bothered that I think karmically it would be awesome if his cats ate him. Would his absence make our house a happy home again? Maybe - that would depend on Prudence and whoever moved in upstairs. It would probably be Patrick & Kevin.
Anyway, weird. Now I kinda want to sneak up there and see what's going on. Not that I would, because if he wasn't dead, he'd kill me instead if he saw me anywhere near anything of his.

20061207

Ginger v2.0 and Judi "with an i"

So it appears we're getting two new chickens from The Chicken Martyr (no, seriously, "...she does good things...") named Ginger-Georgia and Judi-with-an-i. They're 1 1/2 year old Buff Orpington twins who were rescued from a gloomy basement.

Their names are a little hard to pronounce, and we already had a Ginger. Since they're the Buff Orpingtons that Phyllis has so long coveted, i think she should get to name them.

I feel bad for them, though, coming to our coop, because while it's a little more spacious and friendly than a basement, they've never been outside before, and when i left the house this morning it was six freakin' degrees below freakin' zero! And i don't even want to mention the wind chill of -30. And yes, as screwey as the weather has been this year, tomorrow it's supposed to be in the 40s. 50s on Saturday!