More Deeply Fascinating Snippets
Bet you were on the edge of your seats thinking, "Oh, I can't WAIT til Saskia reposts stuff from her Facebook!" Could your day get any better? NO WAY!
- Wilbur and Banzai got beef rib bones tonight. Wilbur ate his, then wanted to talk and talk and talk about it. I think he likes talking about treats as much as he likes eating them.
- I told Wilbur a secret about 10 minutes ago. I whispered, "When J's done working, he's going to take you and Banzai for a walk!" He looked up at me with his eyes wide and tail wagging. He looked over at J, then back at me. "*After* he's done and Mama is sleepy. But don't tell Banzai! It's a secret!" He gave a quiet pant and stayed still, except to move further back into the shadows of my office where Banzai couldn't see him from where he was standing. Usually, if Wilbur finds out a walk is imminent, he'll get excited and bounce off the walls. This time, he stayed quiet til J turned off the computer and got Banzai's leash. He's good at keeping a secret from Banzai.
- Midol and Dayquil. I'm partying like it's 1979.
- I'm enjoying the hell out of the "Wool" sci fi series by Hugh Howey. I got it as a free "rental" on Kindle for their one-month free trial period for premium services. It has female characters in key roles, and they're smart, strong, competent-to-excellent, leaders and engineers and computer techs who are focused on their jobs and communities. He doesn't use romantic intrigue as a primary plot propellant and he tells an interesting dystopian story where women are just people doing interesting things, no big deal. I wish Heinlein or even Niven or Ellison could have done that. It's nice to read a story, written by a man, where women aren't just girlfriends, waitresses, scored points, or fetishized for supposedly anomalous brains or skill. Go, Hugh Howey!
- I was just thinking of some of the strange, brilliant, fascinating and wonderful people I've known in my life, that I'm fortunate to be able to be close to, and the ways they've shaped me. Who have you known that you tell barely-believable stories about, that you feel lucky to have known and loved?
- I'm trying to rest up so I won't be sick during the SLC trip this weekend, but lying in bed is boring me stupid and isn't going to make the Bleeding O' the Crotch or the Clogging O' the Sinuses end any sooner. Nor would hitting people repeatedly.
- Banzai's getting his daily bark frenzy on. Mailman must be out there. Wilbur doesn't even go check to see wussup when Banzai's hollering his fool head off about the bad man who touches our mailbox.
- There needs to be a posolé delivery truck like there's ice cream trucks. They could have ceviche, too, for really hot days. I'd go out there, chase after it for a block while waving my special red posolé bucket, and give the cranky posolé abuel@ some money to count while I limp back home with a full bucket and a little baggie with shredded cabbage and radish slices. Yeah. And some motherfuckin chilled horchata in a paper cup.
- Que es mas malo? Paying $8.50 for a single bowl of posolé or making a big pot of it that I won't be able to finish eating by Friday?
- In other news, I got a bunch of cake candles for a client I have today. Gonna stick them in needle hubs and go all crazy with fire and needles and wax and probably blood. Should get messy. I also picked up a couple of packages of flash cotton that I'll need to process this week to take to SLC for my fire play class. I do not have the attention span to mess with that stuff very often. The kid that sold it to me said he recently found out by surprise that the longer you let it dry, the bigger the flash is. Good to know.
- "Always be kind and polite and have the materials to build a bomb." Tom, Being Human
- Wilbur and Banzai got beef rib bones tonight. Wilbur ate his, then wanted to talk and talk and talk about it. I think he likes talking about treats as much as he likes eating them.
- I told Wilbur a secret about 10 minutes ago. I whispered, "When J's done working, he's going to take you and Banzai for a walk!" He looked up at me with his eyes wide and tail wagging. He looked over at J, then back at me. "*After* he's done and Mama is sleepy. But don't tell Banzai! It's a secret!" He gave a quiet pant and stayed still, except to move further back into the shadows of my office where Banzai couldn't see him from where he was standing. Usually, if Wilbur finds out a walk is imminent, he'll get excited and bounce off the walls. This time, he stayed quiet til J turned off the computer and got Banzai's leash. He's good at keeping a secret from Banzai.
- Midol and Dayquil. I'm partying like it's 1979.
- I'm enjoying the hell out of the "Wool" sci fi series by Hugh Howey. I got it as a free "rental" on Kindle for their one-month free trial period for premium services. It has female characters in key roles, and they're smart, strong, competent-to-excellent, leaders and engineers and computer techs who are focused on their jobs and communities. He doesn't use romantic intrigue as a primary plot propellant and he tells an interesting dystopian story where women are just people doing interesting things, no big deal. I wish Heinlein or even Niven or Ellison could have done that. It's nice to read a story, written by a man, where women aren't just girlfriends, waitresses, scored points, or fetishized for supposedly anomalous brains or skill. Go, Hugh Howey!
- I was just thinking of some of the strange, brilliant, fascinating and wonderful people I've known in my life, that I'm fortunate to be able to be close to, and the ways they've shaped me. Who have you known that you tell barely-believable stories about, that you feel lucky to have known and loved?
- I'm trying to rest up so I won't be sick during the SLC trip this weekend, but lying in bed is boring me stupid and isn't going to make the Bleeding O' the Crotch or the Clogging O' the Sinuses end any sooner. Nor would hitting people repeatedly.
- Banzai's getting his daily bark frenzy on. Mailman must be out there. Wilbur doesn't even go check to see wussup when Banzai's hollering his fool head off about the bad man who touches our mailbox.
- There needs to be a posolé delivery truck like there's ice cream trucks. They could have ceviche, too, for really hot days. I'd go out there, chase after it for a block while waving my special red posolé bucket, and give the cranky posolé abuel@ some money to count while I limp back home with a full bucket and a little baggie with shredded cabbage and radish slices. Yeah. And some motherfuckin chilled horchata in a paper cup.
- Que es mas malo? Paying $8.50 for a single bowl of posolé or making a big pot of it that I won't be able to finish eating by Friday?
- In other news, I got a bunch of cake candles for a client I have today. Gonna stick them in needle hubs and go all crazy with fire and needles and wax and probably blood. Should get messy. I also picked up a couple of packages of flash cotton that I'll need to process this week to take to SLC for my fire play class. I do not have the attention span to mess with that stuff very often. The kid that sold it to me said he recently found out by surprise that the longer you let it dry, the bigger the flash is. Good to know.
- "Always be kind and polite and have the materials to build a bomb." Tom, Being Human