phat tuesday

i am making a king cake, so let's see how that turns out. i have no beads, dubloons, or even a baby to put inside it. Maybe i'll take one of the little alien dolls and put it in? would that be too sacriligeous? i dunno. I have no idea if this cake will even turn out. It's on it's first proofing right now, so we'll see. It's a cold day and it may not really rise, it's cold in the house. Rainy, again.
It stormed like crazy yesterday!

I want to start a travelling journal project a-la 1000 journals. But just one at a time maybe. I just don't think people are non-flakey enough to keep it going. Me included.

Pillow Book

I can't even imagine what it must be like to look back and read all these posts. Perhaps I should take a whole new approach and try to make this a log of only beautiful and pleasing things, like Sei's Pillow Book. I loved reading it, I wonder if somewhere you could get a facsimile copy of it, to see her handwriting. I wonder if she drew pictures in it? I love Frida Khalo's Diary. Gave it away to a friend on her way to Spain and never re-bought one for myself. Not that Frida didn't complain plenty, but I am no Frida. I never went through anything remotely like what she did, and never had the painting skills she had. I can doodle alright, and knit, and cook fairly well.

Can't really make a diary of meals, can you?

A friend of a friend made a coffee journal. Every time he had a cup, he logged the place, time, who was with him, and how the coffee was. I think he may have also logged what was talked about. Dunno. Never saw it. I saw one friend's journal of the dogs of Mexico. It was one of the best and funniest things I had ever seen! I wish he'd scan it all and put it up on his website.

The Olympics are over, and for some reason I burned out on them this year. Even with all the crashes, flipped bobsleds, fishtailing luge sleds, and bodemiller overhype. I just got tired of it. I didn't even watch curling for fuck's sake! I love curling! And I only ever saw women's qualifying skeleton races. No jimmy shea this year. There was the French dude in the chicken mask, that was amusing. And the Italian skating couple's stares of death. Is it just me or did that seem put on like a soap opera? And what the hell is with Dick Button's commentary? Does he talk out his ass all the time? WTF? And Bob Costas?!? Can anyone tell me what he was thinking when he made that comment about 'hitting something even better later tonight" to Sean White when they were discussing Sasha Cohen? Oh sweet merciful crap! I mean, I laffed my ass off, it was a TiVo moment, but seriously! How uncool!

I am totally looking forward to Beijing.

what did i read today?

not much.

Olympic coincidence

I don't think I spelled that right, but I think I may leave it as is, because this spellchecker is so bad, it never seems to know what I am trying to say and suggests totally different words. Or perhaps it is just that I am that bad at spelling. ..... But the damn thing doesn't even know 'moby'. Really! The instant hot water dispenser spigot on the sink broke the other day and we got it replaced, thank you home warranty! But now I know that the water is not filtered, and it gives me the heebee geebies.

I had all these ideas in my head that I was going to write about, and now it's all gone, poof, into the ether. It all seems so stupid and whinny and useless. And now the whining really begins. metawhining. Complaining about my lack of stoicism. Just do it, say the nike ads. How terrible is it when advertising has to tell you to get off your damn ass.

A day or so ago I had read about using dragons in magic, and making a small talisman to keep in your pocket. I thought about that a lot, and really liked it. The little boy was born in the year of the dragon, and the husband collects dragon figurines, and we all like that sort of thing very much. I thought, wow, what a neat thing, maybe I should look into that, invite a dragon into my life, maybe it would help motivate me, an internal source of strength that would still be external really, and I would more than likely respect it more than I do anything that comes from me.

well last night I had a dream, a painfully scary dream! I was attacked by a dragon that I couldn't exactly see, it was covered in smoke and steam, sort of like the cherubim from A Wind in the Door. Wings, feathers, bright hard eyes glittering. It plunged two hands into my back near my shoulderblades, it's fingers going deep into me. It hurt so much! I woke up from it and lay very still. I noticed that there was something very warm and with a rapid heartbeat laying on my right side. That's usually where the little boy comes in at night to cuddle, so I told myself, it's just him, it's just him. But it so wasn't. My shoulders ached so much I couldn't move, so I just lay there, terrified, seeing a dragon coiled in my bed. Green, maybe red? The eyes were yellow, but not mean. They seemed to find this all very amusing.

today my shoulders feel like I have been lifting weights, and I keep thinking about wings. I don't think this was a bad dream, really. Not like it felt when it was happening. Somehow it feels important. I so rarely remember my dreams anymore, it's so sad. This is the first dream in a long time that has made such an impact on me. I want so much to talk to someone about it, but I don't think I should. I think I'll look more into this dragon magic business tho.

alright, I am supposed to be looking for old fashioned maps of the sea, the kind that have 'here there be monsters' written on them so that we can make a map for our Pirates of the crimson coast game.

erm...

I got nuthin' a big fat nuthin.

I've got lots I should be doing to day, two extra kids, phone calls to make, appointments to schedule, work to make like I'm doing, laundry, dishes, bathrooms that refuse to clean themselves. How dare they!

Books:

Finding Serentiy in the Age of Anxiety. I feel embarrassed reading this. I wish I had a brown paper wrapper to put it in. Weather or not I learn from it has yet to be seen.

Moby Dick. It's going slowly with the great white whale. Very slowly.

A Well-Trained Mind: Oh, this book is fabulous! I still have daydreams of homeschooling even though I know it's nevah going to happen, but this also takes the role of schooling companion and supplement. I love the books that are recommended, and now I don't feel so weird that my five year old adores dickens and tolkien.

Collected piratey ghost stories by William Hope Hodgson: Not the real title, but I can't bring it to mind at the moment. He's the lovecraft of the sea, matey! arg!

A wrinkled time

I haven't ironed anything in a while. My usual habit was to do the wash on Monday, and iron on Tuesday evening and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Then Buffy was cancelled and it all fell apart. A year ago buffy was re-run everyday, twice a day, but at 10 and 11 am! So no chance of me seeing it then. But for a few short short months, the little boy went to preschool two mornings a week, for three hours. And Buffy and I were re-united. I ironed happily along as the scooby gang faced legions of undead baddies. So satisfying!

These days the ironing is haphazard. For some reason I can't get the iron to behave in the way I thought it was supposed to behave. It goes to sleep and I can't wake it up except by unplugging it and re-starting it. it makes me annoyed that my iron acts like my computer, but that's what you get. I bought it. I gotta live with it. But it is so completely better than the old one which was cruddy and dirty all the time because it needed distilled water and I never gave it any. couldn't be bothered. Then I got white crud all over the clothes. Now what do I iron? All the husbands' clothes. And some of the little boy's clothes. I also like to have the napkins ironed too. They get so wrinkly that it's difficult to fold them and put them down for the silverware. But i can put regular old water in it, and i love that. i love my iron.

What i really can't stand is when people take two words that begin with alike sounds, say like 'college' and 'kids' and then change one of them so that they both start with the same letter. I was at an educational site and found a link for 'kids kollege'

now why in the world should i click on that? they can't even spell!

Olympics project day three:

This is the Uterus. Tried to give it a 'tweedy' looky, but instead it's just kind of twerpy. Ah well, the uterus is a state of mind, an unknowable mystery, a, uh...a, well, here's a cute quote:

For you created my innermost being,
You knit me together in my mother's womb,
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made
Your works are wonderful
I know that full well
My frame was not hidden from you
When I was made in that secret place.

from Psalm 139, found on the site of the Knitty.com's Womb project designer.

Maybe if i had used this pattern, mine would not be so twerpy, but every gal's guts are different.

Olympics project day two:

Here's the Pentathalon shirt! So cute!

Olympics day one:

Here is a shirt featuring a character of a swallow, one of the Beijing 2008 characters. And, hello, best characters ever! Sooooooo much better than that ziggy or zappy or zippy whatever lightning thingy from atlanta. What was up with that?!? This is for the Fencing, of course.

Crafty olympics

So, I am sad about mr. skeleton being dismissed, and I should be sad about ms. kwan kuan? i can't spell and i won't check, so there. What a bummer. I saw the chinese skating team who's fella had ripped his achilles tendon, but then the gal makes the mistake. aw well. Since i never got my shit together to make an olympic project i am doing it pentathalon style, a different project each day. I have made two tshirts for the little boy with the mascots of beijing 2008's fencing and pentathalon logos. Made sense, since the little boy is taking fencing. So very man in black! Today is day three, and i am almost done with a small knitted uterus. Someone i know recently gave birth and gave up her uterus (a surprise) in the same day. I am wondering if this knitted one would be a quirky pick-me-up, or hideously offensive. I don't know her that well. I like her, and i've worked for her, but i don't know her as well as i'd like. Tomorrow i'd like to get the face-hugger alien hat underway, or maybe a pair of dragon mittens in a new adjusted pattern. The one from Stitch and Bitch nation just didn't turn out as well as i thought it would.

blah blah blah ginger

I got nuthin'.

Had to rip back the husband socks and re-do the heel. I love the heel, i just love it. It's the best thing ever to knit. I think if i ever tried to do a toe-up sock i'd never get through to finishing a leg, i'd have nothing but little ankle socks. I look forward to that heel and toe like no-one's business. If I have to put it down to do something else, it's painfull.

What's in a name?

Ok, so Steeley Dan, The band. What an awesome name to be wasted on a completely borring band. Or am I missing something? I mean, they are really really boring. Not what you'd expect if someone told you, hey, c'mere, look: this band is named after a dildo in a william s. burroughs story. You'd expect something totally unusual, or exceddingly disturbing, or both maybe. And more. But no, nothing really. Maybe it's good music, I can't tell. I heard it so much when i was a kid that i've lost the ability to hear it objectively. It comes on the radio and i may even smile and feel like i'm on some neverending car ride through vermont on our way to get some necco wafers at our favourite hot truck lookig at all the various cows on the trip. lots of cows. so many flippin' cows. oh god the cows.

jeeze

here i am again, the very next day, and almost morning still. I got nuthin'. I'm so busting full of not wanting to take this job. It's going to be easy! the worst part is the boredom of infancy, the not being able to do anything or go anywhere, but even that is not true. I took the little boy everywhere, i think i went out and about more when he was an infant than i do now. Now he has a will. He has opinions. Some days he puts his foot down and does not want to leave the house. Since there is nothing ever that we *have* to do, except for the ocassional check-up, but that's only once a year....well, sometimes we go to the grocery store the next day. We stay home and read stories. fold laundry, re-plan the week's menu, talk about all manner of very important things, like, did Bobba Fett have a little jetpack when he was a kid? Did he and his father fly around together? Was the weather on Kaimino ever nice enough? Do you think that the Ents and the Ewoks ever get together and have tea? Reepacheep could go to.

It's all very important. lists are made. I love lists. here is a link to a list of female androids.
ain't the internet great?!?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gynoid

A freind just called with news that she had found an amazing pair of Chuck Taylors with a dragon breathing fire on them! How much would the little boy love them? So flippin' much, i tell you! gawd, ok, it's time to do more launddry.

oh yeah...

everybody stop being so fucking evil to one another. Stop blowing shit up that doesn't belong to you. Stop taking things and people that don't belong to you. Just cut it out. And for the love of mike, put down that filthy thing, where did you get it? how many times do i have to tell you? Good lord you people are making my head flippin' explode, you know that? Alright, i've had it, i'm turning this world around and you can march straight to your room, mister! get that puss off your face, don't you think i can't see that face your making at me! I can hear your eyeballs rolling, hamas! Al quieda! you put that girl right back where you got her from! Dictators of the world, stop being so bossy! I know your dad! In the name of all that's holy george, you cut that out right now before i tan your hide boy! Oh, i'll give you something to cry about alright. Can't you clean this place up? where were you raised, in a barn? by wolves? i'm talking to you, extreemist military regime! And don't think just because you claim to be a democracy i don't see what you're hiding behind your back! For crying out loud! How many times do you damn kids have to be told, no nukes! radiation bad! give me that, i am taking this away and putting it up where you will never see it again! If you keep kicking tibet under the table you will be sent to bed without dinner, china! I don't care what Mao said! If Mao jumped off a bridge would you? All of you are grounded untill further notice.

That Damn Show II

It is lurking on the TiVo, I can't bring myself to watch it. So the kid cooked some dude's head. So what, who cares? I don't. Stupid show. Ok, i do want to watch it, but goddamn, it is painfull. I just can't muster the strength.

The little boy got a pair of Dewey the Dragon mittens this afternoon, thanks to his having very small hands, and being ever so easy to knit. He and i listened to the audio book of The Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiller and watched the mittens come along. Then we stitched them together, and blocked em, and viiii-ola! mittens. He wore them today and made them speak in very squeaky voices to the bus driver and the cafe gals. It was not mitten weather, and he kept taking them off. I don't blame him. They are made from very nice soft wool, which he picked out at the last yarnatorium I discovered, just up the road in Orinda. They have no website, otherwise i'd post it.

As usual, last night at nearly one am i was filled with ideas of what to write, and now i am getting very nearly to the point where i will just be coppying out lyrics to songs or spelling numerals up to one hundred or something equally ridiculous and space consuming. just to say that i wrote today. Hardly counts.

The husband wants a picture of the boy and myself for his desk at work, and i find the idea undoable. I'd never accept such a situation if our roles were reversed. I'm broken, so classically, stupidly, broken. So stereotypical. Fat housewife neurosis 101. Don't take my picture i look fat/ugly/poxy/derranged. Does my butt look fat/huge/meteoric/planetary in these jeans? What should i cook you for dinner? Oh, no, i don't want to go out, ever....ever again. that's for people who aren't moms. I can't appear in public without the boy, how will people know what i am? Oh, please go to the party without me, it's no point paying for a babysitter when i don't own clothing without bizzare stains on it any longer, or shoes that have any bit of a 'not homeless person' look to them. I only cut my hair in the bathroom sink, and it looks it! Even if it is pink. Very pink these days, that last red i did washed out so quickly, and it was not the fuscia the box lied to me! lied! I swear i'm going to wind up one of those women who only names themselves after their kids....XXXXX's mom, will be my only description. I used to find it horrible, repugnent! Now it just is what it is. I sing the music my kid likes, which are sea shanties, so really, that's quite cool. I dress like my kid, in thsirts and cargo pants and chuck taylors. I always dressed that way before, so i don't know why i have this sudden depression about it. somehow it just doesn't seem like that's how i am supposed to be. But i can't give myself over to total 'mom jeans' from JC Penny either. Gawd. what senseless fretting.

That's quite enough bitching for one day.

I'll most deffinately delete this in the morning.