The Edge

Had no power for several hours last night, due to the thunderstorms that moved through our area. Still, I feel lucky that the power came back on around the time we decided to head to bed. And we had no wind or rain damage. It could have been so, so much worse than something that amounted to a minor inconvenience.

It's funny, though, how the house seems incredibly quiet when the power goes out. It's almost like the building is a living thing ... then the power cuts off and living stops. I never notice it, but there is a sort of constant background hum through the house when there is power. And that is replaced by a complete and utter stillness when the electricity goes off. Weird, although not in a creepy or unpleasant way. It's also funny how much having electricity is second nature to me. It's something I don't even think about -- to the point where I'll flip on the light when I walk into a room, even when I know the power is out. Silly of me, and it always makes me laugh a bit. I do know, though, that I was not cut out to be a pioneer. I would miss my modern-day conveniences too much. Yeah. I'm soft.

It seems like most of the electronic equipment is OK. Our power blinked around a bit before finally cutting off last night, and I was worried about the computers and TV. I managed to get the TV off in between flickers. And the computers are hooked up to really good-quality surge protector/battery backup units. So I shut my Big Mac down once the power was out completely. Sadly, it seems our backup HD wasn't properly hooked into the battery, and it might be fried. I suppose it's much better to lose the backup of all my files than the files themselves. Even so, it makes me nervous. Gives me the urge to run around, backing stuff up like mad or something. I worry most about my photos. I take a lot of pictures, and I'm totally digital, camera-wise. If I lose those pictures, they are just gone. There's no way to recreate them. Most of the other stuff I have saved on either of my HDs could be remade, if I had to.

I have blue ink all over my hand. I can't figure out where that came from. Weird.

And I guess that's it. Really no point to this journal entry. I just kind of felt like typing, and writing is still ... well, not happening for me.

Did another Home Depot run today, in between rainstorms. Then headed to a charming independent bookstore. It is a recent discovery and seems destined to become a favorite haunt. And now am enjoying lunch. Nothing earth shattering. Just Applebees. Still, it's lovely to be out of the house. I would feel much better about a lovely day out if I didn't know the truth: that I am avoiding putting all my stuff back into the office.

There's nothing worse than being in the middle of a project and running out of part of the supplies needed to finish. Exactly what happened to me today when I was working on the second batch of Christmas cards. I got about halfway through and ran out of those little pop-up dot thingies -- you know, the ones you use to stick things together and give them a sort of 3D look? (Yes, I do realize that sentence is rather ... well, shall we say "unwieldy"? It's so much kinder than pretty much anything else we could say about it.)

Good news is that I managed to run out to Michael's and get what I needed. So I finished the cards up. I still need to do the envelopes, but I got about half of those done tonight. Hopefully, the envelopes won't take as long. It feels odd being this far ahead of the game. It's such an unusual thing for me. Although I probably shouldn't think about it all that much ... And I definitely shouldn't congratulate myself on my extreme awesomeness. That's just asking for trouble. o_o

Started my second round of meds. And am struggling with bouts of dizziness. I hate that. It's such a weird feeling. But weird in a bad way. Not a good way.

Made stew tonight. It was a new recipe, but it turned out pretty much OK. Well, I thought it was good. I don't think hubby liked it. He's decided he's either got allergies or is sick, so he felt the dinner was "too heavy". (That sound you heard was me rolling my eyes at the memory, by the way. You know, just in case you were wondering. Because, like, how the FRAK am I supposed to know he's going to decide he's sick by the time he comes home? He was fine when he left this morning. Bleh.) Men. Whatever. >.O

The little rubber footie thing just came off my keyboard. Now the keyboard is wobbly. Well, crap. -.-

I managed to get outside and go walking with Fae today. Weather was gorgeous, and Fae wasn't even that nervous. She made it through pretty much the whole walk with her tail held up high in that "happy dog" way. And only glanced nervously behind us a few times. Definite improvement for the pin-head.

And I got some vanilla chai tea at the grocery store this morning. Very, very yummy with honey.

Sometimes, it's the small things that make life good.

Today was cleaning day -- in preparation for the Parental Arrival tomorrow AM. (eep! o_o) Started around 10 AM, after a quick breakfast (and a couple of taped episodes of Divine Design -- you know, for inspiration). And I just finished at around 3:30. No lunch. No breaks. Nothing. Just clean, clean, clean until it's done. Because I'm one of those people who won't finish if I let myself stop. This is how much I hate cleaning. Love having a clean house, but hate getting it to that state on my own.

I also hate how fleeting that state of "perfect clean" is. I finish the last bit of dusting or whatever and step back and think to myself: "Wow, this place is freaking clean. I did that, and it looks GOOD." And I feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, as well as this overall feeling of well-being ... of just how much I love my house and it loves me. For that moment in time, it's almost like the house wraps me in its arms to give me a big, squishy hug. Of course, about a nano-second later, the kiddo runs through the room carrying some sort of food item ... followed by the pin-headed dog, who, invariably, will have muddy paws ... or the hubby comes home and just dumps all his crap in the doorway ... or whatever. Any one of a hundred things that go on daily in this house. And the "clean" is done. The spell is broken. The house-hug is over. I think we still love each other, the house and I, but we go back to our normal ways -- living quietly side-by-side and feeling content with what we have.

Invariably, I think about Cinderella as I clean. Because ... well, cleaning makes me feel rather "Cinderella-ish". But without the fun songs, pretty dress, or cute mice. I keep waiting for Fae to turn into a coachman -- you know, like in the movie. But she never does. Really, I suppose that's just as well. I don't know what I would do with a coachman. I don't have a coach, although I suppose he could ride on top of the Volvo. If he managed to hang on tightly enough. Being a guy, though, I'm positive he would leave his shoes in the doorway, dirty dishes on the coffee table, and his things scattered throughout the house. So, no coachman for me. Better if Fae turns into a maid or something -- someone who could actually help me achieve and keep "perfect clean". Or, even better ... She could be a genie-dog. In disguise and living among humans. And then, when I discover this, she could grant me three wishes, at least one of which I could spend on regularly achieving and maintaining "perfect clean" in my house. I keep rubbing her head, but, so far ... no wishes. Ah well.

So my dear friend Kitt sent this adorable Squall figure to me. I know nothing about Final Fantasy (any version), but I have decided that I love Squall. Not just "love", but LUV. Because of the big hunkin' sword. And the jewelry. And the boots. But most of all, because he SO looks like Aya. And, to prove it, here he is next to my much-beloved Aya plushie.

Aya: Dude, you really don't want to be in the Bish Closet. It's ... not a fun place. And I'm not sharing my Cheetos.
Squall: I'm not worried. I can handle it. I've got a big hunkin' sword, after all. And a lion belt buckle.
Aya: You know she only likes you because you look like me.
Squall: Do not.
Aya: Do so. Same glare. Same godly hair. Same sword-guy attitude. Leather clothes. It's freaking obvious.
Squall: Dude, you're a plushie. Your head is freaking HUGE.
Aya: So?
Squall: I don't have time for this. I'm bustin' outta this place.
Aya: Whatever. But you're not taking the Cheetos.

Random List of Stuff I Like (a lot):

paper
large industrial machines
men's cufflinks
bunnies
horses
roses / growing rosebushes
stainless steel
black granite
the color blue
the first day when the weather truly feels like "fall"
fall tree colors, but especially the fire red and bright orange ones
windchimes
christmas
taking the time to wrap presents beautifully
fine ribbon
"bones" (the show)
...

I'm sure there's more, but I'm more than a bit brain dead at the moment. I have no idea why I even wanted to make a list. My brain just said: "Hey! Let's make a list!" And I thought: "No way. How lame!" And yet, here I am. Typing away. It's still pretty lame, but oh well. ( Read more... )

Well, mostly nonsense. Let's be honest here. Did you ever expect to find anything but that here in my LJ? Exactly. ^.~

Mom-unit left early this morning. Well, her flight left at 9:50, but it's at least an hour's drive from our house to BWI, which meant we were all up at what felt like 0:dark-thirty. But, it was good. There wasn't too much traffic; we made good time to the airport, and the security line was pretty light. Mom made it through in about ten minutes, which has to be a new record. She made it home safely, too. She's already called me twice. *sigh* I think she's a little lonely.

( Read more... )

Heh. For some reason, I'm flashing back to those horrid days of elementary, junior high, and high school when we were forced to keep journals as class projects. It's weird how much I hated doing that. Hated, hated, hated, hated it. You would think I'd be in seventh heaven, considering how much I love to write. Even then, writing was -- well, it was my passion. My secret passion then. Not-so-secret now, I guess. My school journals, though, never reflected that. I was the kid in class who, if seen through the pages of my school journal, was a steady, unwavering shade of beige. Boring. Boring, boring, boring. We were supposed to put our thoughts and concerns about life. Supposed to be open with our feelings, yadda, yadda, yadda. Yeah, right. Even in elementary school, I knew someone would be reading them. It was a school project, after all, which meant teachers would look at them. How could I put my deepest thoughts down ... or write the stories that lingered in my soul ... or, well, anything ... knowing this? I couldn't. Plain and simple.

So, basically, I started each entry with: "Today, I ... blah, blah, blah *insert boring shit here*" And I always felt like a failure. (Although my not-so-public journals were anything but beige.) Ah well. I guess I've gotten somewhat better at knowing others might read what I write. It still scares the bejeezus out of me, but I force myself to work through that, at least. Even so, I still censor my thoughts, feelings, and opinions. Some things are private. And they should stay that way.

My daughter, who is five, decided to start a journal today. I guess that's what has me thinking back on all my years of journaling failure. (And, I suppose blogging failure now, since I'm on the WWW. LOLz) She asked me how to make a journal, so I gave her one of my cheaper Moleskine notebooks. I explained how to put the date at the top. Then, I told her to write about what she had done during the day. She's in the other room, working on it now. Hopefully, it'll be a fun project that she can continue for the summer to improve her writing skills. Then again, she is just as likely to use up an entire notebook's worth of space scribbling and drawing for one entry. She's five -- what can I expect? At least she's willing to give it a try. Here's hoping she doesn't feel like a journaling failure, too.

In other news, we had the doctor's visit today. They tested for H1N1 and other kinds of flu and for Strep. All good news, as the tests were negative. No ear infection, and her congestion wasn't really in her chest or lungs, even though it sounded that way when she coughed. So, it looks like a run-of-the-mill virus. Good news that it's not more serious. Bad news that there's nothing much to do but tough it out. I hate that. Poor little critter. =(

The doctor's visit was a nightmare. They had to flush out her ears to see whether or not there was an infection. That didn't go well. It's not a painful procedure, but my daughter hated the sound and feeling of the water going into her ears. So she screamed the whole time. Then, off to the lab for the nasal and throat swabs. More screaming. At this point, she was basically just on the edge. I could feel a huge temper tantrum coming on because she doesn't feel good, she was upset over all the poking and prodding, and she just wanted to get the heck outta Dodge. Can't say I blame her. She pulled it together, though. Brave trooper.

After the whole doctor's office thing, I let her pick anything she wanted for lunch. (She picked Mickey D's ... what can I say? For a 5-year-old, that's big stuff. LOLz) We got lunch, went home to eat and watch a bit of TV. Then we headed to Borders. I treated her to a new movie, a stuffed animal, and a book. I figured she deserved it after that ordeal.

On the way out of Borders, she told me it had been a really great day. Then she paused for a moment before adding, "Except for that whole doctor thing."

*gakked from lucidscreamer*

What are five stories you wish you could write, but can't?

1. Midroc II. I have the idea for this one, mostly, down in my head. I have great ideas for snippets of the story here and there. But, for some reason, I can't seem to get any of it to gel. Even more frustrating because I already had an inkling for Midroc III -- which seemed oh-so-much-more-interesting than the book I need to be writing. *headdesk*

2. "Bad to Worse". It's this massive (seriously ... massive!!) WK multi-chapter fic that I've basically had "in progress" since before my daughter was born. For those of you keeping score, that's five freaking years. >.O At this point, I fear this one may be a lost cause because my writing style has changed so much over that amount of time. I'm not even sure I could edit it into anything cohesive in the event I managed to finish it. Blah.

3. More Orphen fic. I love this show. Seriously love it. As much as Weiss. And yet, I can't seem to find any story ideas for it. WhywhywhywhyWHY????? *flails*

4. Kill the Buddha. It's this Saiyuki fic idea I had. At the time, it seemed like a great idea (and still does, actually!), but I can't seem to find where the story begins. I've tried it, like, ten or eleven times -- and no luck. Maybe one day. I still have the idea notes and snippets I've written for it, so I don't suppose it's a total loss.

5. Original short stories / Original fic. Maybe this is combining two things into one, but I have several original story ideas -- either for short stories or, potentially, something longer -- that I can't seem to get off the ground right now. Maybe they need to percolate a bit more. Even so, it's frustrating.

And Other Stuff:

I have company coming for dinner in about an hour and a half, and I'm not done with the house cleanup I need to accomplish. It's not like my house is a sty. It's straight and fairly clutter-free. (At least, as clutter-free as it can be, considering the habits of my kiddo and my hubby.) But there's touch-up stuff to do: Put last minute things away. Clean the bathrooms (3 of the 4). Dust the kiddo's room. Clean the kitchen. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

On the plus side, I did manage to shop for pie ingredients this AM. I have made the pie, and it's sitting in the fridge. I cleaned the kitchen, the cat box, and freshened 2 of the 3 bathrooms. I've put away most of the clutter and dust-swept the second floor, where the kids will spend most of their time playing. Ditto with the third floor -- but I pretty much just got into the corners and such to grab up the dust bunnies lurking there. So it's not like I haven't gotten stuff done. But I can't seem to motivate myself to clean that last bathroom. Instead, here I sit, typing an LJ entry.

Go me. For the win. SRSLY.

O_o