I am a terrible mother

Fortunately Keith has forgiven me.  I am a lucky, lucky woman.  And yes, Jeff warned me not to do what I did that made me a terrible mother.

Katie was snoozing on the downstairs couch early this morning.  I moved into the guest bedroom with the computer so I wouldn’t disturb her and Katie came in and snuggled.  I don’t care how old I get, the day I don’t want to crawl into bed with my kids and snuggle at least once in a while is a day I really start dying in earnest.

Jeff has offered to take me to brekkie (with Katie) and I am in favour of this notion.

I should buy beer and get a haircut today, I mean besides going to church.

Growing up in the future

When I grew up, I was raised by people who became atheists as teenagers, as a product of their own thought processes.  The religious people they associated with were circumspect and candid, always a fine balance to strike in matters of personal opinion, with respect to their religions.  Most of the elders of my tribe stated their beliefs without thinking they were going to get disassembled and reassembled as a wall trophy, and without any visible conviction or expectation that any of the rest of us would hear them out on the subject of the transubstantiation.  As an example.  There are many kinds of crazy my father warned me about explicitly.

I didn’t grow up in a world of crazy.  I grew up in a world of endlessly cool stuff.  Our family friends like Ron and Leo also brought mountains of cool into our lives with shared wilderness and canoeing, and ceilingward fountains of fascinating books on every conceivable scientific and botanical and cosmological subject.  My parents were the unGoth Addams Family, two madly in love kids, kids of their own in tow, growing scary plants and having eerie pets and allowing the discharge of air pistols in the house on special occasions.  SF, Horror and Fantasy, and Military History were part of the visual, verbal and written environment.  We watched 16mm sound films in the basement. Charlie Chaplin was silent and WC Fields was not… just hearing an old style projector fire up is a sound that immediately puts me in a happy place.

And there was always the latest tech pOp could get on his budget.  That’s what I meant by growing up in the future.

Feeling somewhat better

My knee – which was so bad I couldn’t bend it to go down stairs – is now much improved.

I am loving having Katie live with us, mostly because I know it’s temporary, and mostly because I forget how much fun she is to have around.  She’s still decompressing from being squeezed into the D-space, and figuring out who she is after spending so much time defining herself against something that didn’t meet her needs and values.  It’s a hard process and an important one.

Muffin fell asleep in Jeff’s (empty) laundry hamper.  What a cat.

Eddie still expects me to have infinitely extensible arms when I am petting him.  What a cat.

Keith came over for dins last night.  We had a major season 3 Breaking Bad Fest, and finished up with the new Lost Girl, which triggered me to compose a song about Selkies.

Happy Diwalloween!

I am in full regalia including the Foncy Hat.  And, of course, got dragged into a meeting where I can only thank a merciful providence that the new Customer Service Overlords couldn’t see me in my “vampire slaying outfit”. 

For the first time in 30 years I won’t be handing out candy or stickers this year.  I’m okay with that.  Maybe I’ll feel like it next year.

I am off from 11th to 21st November… whatevva shall I DO????  I suppose a visit to my parents is in order.  I am too gravely in debt from the last trip to go anywhere.  Maybe I’ll just book a spa day for me and Katie and call it happy birthday.

Previously unseen sketches & other things.

The Hobbit.

Also, I am helping pay for food for Occupy Boston with the help of somebody I met online through reputation management.  This is a seasonal vegetable curry my new friend made.

When I don’t talk about my personal life on my blog, is it because things are bad or because I’m busy…. Social media has holes in it.

Nuff said

I watched the helicopter video of the assault on the Oakland OWS folks Gas.  Un fracking believable.  And oh look.  http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/blogs/citydesk/2011/10/26/oakland-police-love-kittens-teargas/

So instead of showing the veteran who was injured by the assault by the police on peaceful protesters, they show an Oakland cop petting a kitten.  If you see the video, you will be amazed and appalled.

Not impressed, Mister Mass Media.  Not one whit.

Concert went fine

Cindy was marvellous as always and I managed to survive the event without shaming myself too much.

Media filk last night went great and OH CTHULHU it was grand to hear Blind Lemming Chiffon play blues.  Also that Tim Griffin guy SEE BELOW.

PLEASE GO TO THIS WEBSITE AND PICK ANY SONG THAT LOOKS INTERESTING and play it.  Tim is a grade school science teacher in LA and I fell madly in love with him when he played the Philosopher’s song.