Ghost writing to fill your friends page
And Carmen thinks she hasn't updated in forever...
I plead temporary (read: permanent) addiction to computer games as my excuse. Besides, anything terribly interesting that happens gets posted by Lee, since, well, living together. Such as the recent addition to our household of the conehead kind.
Well, It's not so much an addition to the household so much as an extension of the klutziest cat I've ever had. (Well, lived with, since he's Lee's cat...) Roscoe has gotten much more sedate with the addition of the satellite around his neck. Poor dude keeps scratching at it, which means he's not allowed to run around with it off for fear of tearing open his stitches. He's currently sleeping under my covers and making sleepy noises every time I go over and poke my hand under to make sure he hasn't suffocated or something.
Speaking of scratching and stitches, giving Roscoe his ear medication in the morning was something of a hassle yesterday. Five drops seems simple enough, until you take into account that the radar dish doesn't hinder head movements too much, which means there's nothing to grab onto to hold his head still. Combine his thrashing with awkward positions, and I accidentally hit his stitches and he decided he had enough of that and thrashed a panic attack that left my pants torn. Huzzah. Which meant I had to break out the emergency pants (read: tragic pale blue pants accidentally washed with bright red, never-been-washed shirt leaving said pants pink in certain (read: all) lights, complete with bloodstain looking spots from previous run-ins with strange liquids that had formerly just looked like dirt stains (which they were). They also have funny yellow speckles on one thigh. No idea where those came from.), since that evening was supposed to be laundry day for pants (as was all out of clean work pants). (The laundry plan didn't work out anyway, as Tuesday was the rescheduled date for dinner with aunt and grandfather, since previous date was washed out after got sick of waiting in rush hour traffic for life flight to clear out. Three hundred feet in an hour does not a happy driver make, so E. and I called off and went to IHOP instead. Very cold there.)
E. has gotten a Nintendo DS, along with a spiffy little game by the name of Puzzle Quest. It's basically the RPG version of Bejeweled, and am seriously contemplating buying a DS solely to play this game. (Along with Brain Age, which looks like fun, because I'm fond of smart-making games.)
Have gotten onto a strange reading fix of late- I'm currently bouncing between Jane Austen (because I am somehow a sucker for romances written in the nineteenth century, when everyone was genteel and never really touched, much less had sex) and Anne McCaffrey's older sci-fi novels. (Back when she was interesting and not writing a bajillion sequels. (And zomg, my internet spellchecker is trying to tell me that's written bazillion. Is bazillion seriously a number, or is it just a word used so freaking often it's made it into the slang dictionary?))
Am currently sulking about it all, since these books can only be found on the internet and in used book stores, and there's only two within decent driving distance (since the one on Beal closed, the liars- they're in the phone book, but I drive past there everyday and there's some crafty store there now) and I can only find one store and while they did have some McCaffrey, I've fixated on the Brainship books and the only one I've found is The City Who Fought. I used to own The Ship Who Sang, but I haven't seen it since E. was in middle school. (She probably loaned it to someone, the bitch.))
Furthering the off-track loaning comment, I've somehow become a lending library. I'm not certain whether to be proud (Whee, I'm a library! Bestest thing ever!) or annoyed (Mine! Rar!). So if anybody's in want of something, drop me a line and an updated mailing address. (I'm sure I have everybody's, but I also never delete old emails with addresses, which means I've got four different addresses for Stephen alone, one of which is in Florida and we all know when last he lived here.)
Along those lines, I'm transitioning over to a new email address (csc.elfhawk (at) gmail.com) since my yahoo address is again being bombarded by spam. (I kind of miss the 'enhance your dick' spams, since they were funny. Now I'm winning lotteries, vacation trips, and shopping sprees, if only I fill out this simple form...) So update thine address books. I will sooner or later get around to sending an email as well.
I need to get my scanner hooked back up. It's been sitting in the living room for over a month, and I've been having way too much fun with pens to not inflict it upon you. (Lee is awestruck by my trees. More struck than awe, to be true, but hey, any attention is good, right?)
I plead temporary (read: permanent) addiction to computer games as my excuse. Besides, anything terribly interesting that happens gets posted by Lee, since, well, living together. Such as the recent addition to our household of the conehead kind.
Well, It's not so much an addition to the household so much as an extension of the klutziest cat I've ever had. (Well, lived with, since he's Lee's cat...) Roscoe has gotten much more sedate with the addition of the satellite around his neck. Poor dude keeps scratching at it, which means he's not allowed to run around with it off for fear of tearing open his stitches. He's currently sleeping under my covers and making sleepy noises every time I go over and poke my hand under to make sure he hasn't suffocated or something.
Speaking of scratching and stitches, giving Roscoe his ear medication in the morning was something of a hassle yesterday. Five drops seems simple enough, until you take into account that the radar dish doesn't hinder head movements too much, which means there's nothing to grab onto to hold his head still. Combine his thrashing with awkward positions, and I accidentally hit his stitches and he decided he had enough of that and thrashed a panic attack that left my pants torn. Huzzah. Which meant I had to break out the emergency pants (read: tragic pale blue pants accidentally washed with bright red, never-been-washed shirt leaving said pants pink in certain (read: all) lights, complete with bloodstain looking spots from previous run-ins with strange liquids that had formerly just looked like dirt stains (which they were). They also have funny yellow speckles on one thigh. No idea where those came from.), since that evening was supposed to be laundry day for pants (as was all out of clean work pants). (The laundry plan didn't work out anyway, as Tuesday was the rescheduled date for dinner with aunt and grandfather, since previous date was washed out after got sick of waiting in rush hour traffic for life flight to clear out. Three hundred feet in an hour does not a happy driver make, so E. and I called off and went to IHOP instead. Very cold there.)
E. has gotten a Nintendo DS, along with a spiffy little game by the name of Puzzle Quest. It's basically the RPG version of Bejeweled, and am seriously contemplating buying a DS solely to play this game. (Along with Brain Age, which looks like fun, because I'm fond of smart-making games.)
Have gotten onto a strange reading fix of late- I'm currently bouncing between Jane Austen (because I am somehow a sucker for romances written in the nineteenth century, when everyone was genteel and never really touched, much less had sex) and Anne McCaffrey's older sci-fi novels. (Back when she was interesting and not writing a bajillion sequels. (And zomg, my internet spellchecker is trying to tell me that's written bazillion. Is bazillion seriously a number, or is it just a word used so freaking often it's made it into the slang dictionary?))
Am currently sulking about it all, since these books can only be found on the internet and in used book stores, and there's only two within decent driving distance (since the one on Beal closed, the liars- they're in the phone book, but I drive past there everyday and there's some crafty store there now) and I can only find one store and while they did have some McCaffrey, I've fixated on the Brainship books and the only one I've found is The City Who Fought. I used to own The Ship Who Sang, but I haven't seen it since E. was in middle school. (She probably loaned it to someone, the bitch.))
Furthering the off-track loaning comment, I've somehow become a lending library. I'm not certain whether to be proud (Whee, I'm a library! Bestest thing ever!) or annoyed (Mine! Rar!). So if anybody's in want of something, drop me a line and an updated mailing address. (I'm sure I have everybody's, but I also never delete old emails with addresses, which means I've got four different addresses for Stephen alone, one of which is in Florida and we all know when last he lived here.)
Along those lines, I'm transitioning over to a new email address (csc.elfhawk (at) gmail.com) since my yahoo address is again being bombarded by spam. (I kind of miss the 'enhance your dick' spams, since they were funny. Now I'm winning lotteries, vacation trips, and shopping sprees, if only I fill out this simple form...) So update thine address books. I will sooner or later get around to sending an email as well.
I need to get my scanner hooked back up. It's been sitting in the living room for over a month, and I've been having way too much fun with pens to not inflict it upon you. (Lee is awestruck by my trees. More struck than awe, to be true, but hey, any attention is good, right?)