First, a cake that looks like an octopus.
Impressive, eh wot?
Ziva has been detailed. She was so beautiful that when I drove her home, I very slowly relaxed and as I relaxed I realized I wanted to take a nap in my car. So I left the roof open and laid the seat back and napped. After so much stress and disbelieving anxiety, it was a glorious feeling. I also felt like I was being suspended, auditorily, between the sounds of a children’s party and the sound of birdsong. The folks across the alleyway (Filipinos if my eyes and ears do not deceive me) rented a bouncy castle for a children’s party. The children were shrieking and playing and carrying on, and the motor for the castle was purring, and the adults were making the laughing talking sounds of happy folks who aren’t actually drinking their faces off, and that sound makes me happy. It’s a safe sound.
It was easy to nap. I had a stressful day. Up early to make a sausage and waffle breakfast with coffee, and then drove her to Miami Car Wash (six blocks from home) and then past a mailbox to drop off a piece of mail for Tammy, and then over to New Generations to pick up kidney beans and those very handy frozen tortillas, and then walked home with the groceries, and then over to Vancity to talk to a new investment adviser (after losing the address and panicking because I’d already blown off one meeting and I figured he would think I was a flake, and Jeff got me the address when I couldn’t get the vancity.com site to load properly on the Curve), the old investment adviser having annoyed me to the point I could no longer stand it, and we talked about various stuff including how to rebalance everything, and relocalizing investments, and what my goals are. He was relieved that I knew what I had, what I wanted, and why. Then I drove home (in Jeff’s car, after picking up more groceries) and collected Margot, who cried just like Eddie all the way to the vet’s (all of three blocks) and was very unhappy for her two shots and hasn’t come near me since.
Then I collapsed until I had to go get the car. Not quite. Tried to watch Australia, and it beyond words sucked, so we put on Noise instead. I loved it, and so did Jeff. It has two of the most realistic sex scenes I have ever seen on celluloid, especially with respect to the dialogue. I was blown away. Anyway, I then hauled myself up to get the car… I walked up to get it. It didn’t seem reasonable to get Jeff to drive me up there, being just six blocks and all.
I was just drifting off to actually sleep in the sunny, warm car after I drove it back. Then my phone rang. It was Paul, looking to bring something extra for food. So we had rather strange (I didn’t like the boughten sauce) butter chicken, corn and strudel for dinner. I went to bed super early, I wasn’t even awake when Paul left for work.
And I was fighting zombies all night, or what seemed like it. There was one very persistent chap, and the thing about zombies is that if you don’t kill them, they keep coming. The last straw (apart from the fact that I haz no weppins) was this tiny little old female zombie who was cold and smelly and very determined, and after she crawled over the last barrier that was it, I was cornered and woke up, drenched with sweat and here it was 3:30 in the morning. So I had a cup of coffee and played some Mah Jong and now I am desperately thinking of stuff to post.
What I really want to post is complaints about stuff. Honestly, just to bitch, shriek, rampage up and dawn yawping, and likewise make moan. However, I have learned that nobody really gives a shit about any of that stuff, and in a week I won’t either. Why memorialize a transitory feeling in such a fashion? I mean, if I feel that dreadful I should write a song. Or write a letter to some authority figure, respectfully requesting a change in policy.
Patricia did. She complained about a really stupid TV commercial and strangely enough they took it off tv. I don’t know if she was successful, or whether something else happened to get the stupid commercial off tv, but she did, and I thank her.
We’ve lost 144 soldiers in Afghanistan. That’s only .000004 of the population, so no biggie. Right? Uh, no. I am very conflicted about it.
Part of me is thinking, a peacetime army is a terrible place. There is no place to be blooded, to experience the exigencies of battle.
Part of me believes, what a horrible waste, what a tragedy for their parents and loved ones, their children and comrades.
I am unsure of the mission. I do not know who we’re trying to impress, what we are trying to accomplish, how we could know whether we have succeeded or failed. I have more questions than answers about it. I mourn for them, and for the Afghanis who have lost their lives in the war.
To drastically change the subject, it is with a sense of protective hysteria that I note Keith has found a female type person to be interested in. Katie’s comment was, “If she hurts him, I’m gonna scratch her eyes out.” Hmph. That’s rather different from my take on it. I told him to be honest and kind, and to expect to get lied to. On the Katie front, it is possible I have found her a therapist. There, I said it. I did a crappy job of dealing with the series of horrific events that was Katie’s adolescence, did a super crappy job of finding her help, and now I’m trying to salve my conscience by throwing money at the ‘problem’. Uh, sure, if that’s the narrative that makes ya happy. Or, I waited until Katie was ready, found somebody by accident while Paul was with me so we kind of interviewed her together, but in a social situation so it didn’t look like that was what was happening, committed to pay for 4 sessions and then asked Katie to make the call. Which she did. At latest report they are playing phone tag.
Now I’m going to see about sizing some photos for the site, maybe doing something else useful, and then I’m going to shower and change and go to church to do set up, and read the children’s story and then hang around afterward for the auction which Paul can’t attend so I got his back for a couple of bids, and then I’ll drop off the 8 mil projector with Tom and Peggy, and then home, and then to Candace’s to sing. As tired as I am, I can hardly wait to go singing.
