lj in a persistent vegetative state
LJ
Yeah, I don't have time to resurrect lj. Or rather, as I'm teaching myself to say, "That's not a priority for me at this time."
The school project blog took up all my writing words. The muse--and some of you may recall that when I say muse I'm not speaking of an external entity, but only my own subconscious where the work and words originate--only give me around 800 words per day. If I use them on blog entries, they are just as gone as if I novelled. If I use them telling stories out loud? Gone. If I use them on school projects? Gone.
I am enjoying the school project blog, and I think it will serve me later, but for now it is a word-sink.
Entries from now on will probably be sporadic and of the Extreme Status Update variety.
Road Trip and a Purse
Zor and I took a road trip to the outlet store again and got a few more clothes. Well she got a few. I seem to have gone ape. I think it is an insecurity thing, from when I had four tee-shirts, two pairs of sweats and a jacket. I had no winter coat for years. I eventually bought one on payments from Fingerhut. I bought it extra ginormous so I could zip the baby up in it with me when we were waiting at bus stops. (She had her own coat, but the extra layer on her made me feel less like a failure for putting myself in a position where we had to sit at bus stops in the frigid cold.)
The clothing problem is new, but I also bought a purse. My purse problem is almost as old as I am. I am forever on the search for the perfect purse. I had one a few years ago, but the strap broke, and I don't like any of the current styles. Either the strap is too short (I don't want my purse in my armpit, thanks), the strap is too long, the bag is not the right size (it has to be not huge yet have room for a paperback book, a wallet, and an assortment of writing implements), or they don't have enough compartments (I hate having everything dumped in together so I have to dig for what I want). I really want it to be not black, and have no punk-rock metal studs or other garish ornaments, and I prefer that it not be a sack on a rope--I want my purse to hold its shape.
They used to make purses like this in the 80s and 90s, so ever since my last perfect purse bit the big one, I have been stalking yard sales and thrift stores. As a result I have bought a used purse it seems like every week for a while now, but none of them are quite right.
Anyhow, I bought a new-new purse. It's one of those what they now call cross-body thingies. I don't understand the need to change the name of these; they are obviously just shoulder bags with extended straps. What I like about this one is, the strap came in two parts and I buckled it together and onto the bag myself, so the length is precisely adjustable. It's the color Zor calls native-american--I finally figured out she is referring to buckskin, not skin color. It's a brown in the range I call Cobie-colored, a tawny kind of caramel or butterscotch. The metallic accents are small and gold. It will not go with any bookbag or laptop bag I own; for some reason those things always come in powerdude black and gray/silver, but I've decided I'm sick of powerdude black. If I could, I'd buy a laptop in Cobie colors. For one thing, I would spend less time lint-rollering pet hair off of it.
I'm not sure if the size is going to be perfect, but maybe the fact that I shelled out money for new will encourage me to give this purse a fair shake.
Now if I could find the perfect wallet.
Tomatoes
I'm thinking I'm not going to grow them anymore. Except for the first year we were here, I've either had hardly any yield (year 2, season of rain and blight) or planted the wrong kind (year 3, Cobie feasts on vine-fresh cherry tomatoes), or I planted the right kind and they came out the size of walnuts anyway (year 4). Maybe I should just go in halves with my dad on his plants and split the yield. It would give me an excuse to go visit them more often. I could put some peonies or something where the tomato bed is and just forget them.
Just something I'm thinking about.
Meanwhile I need to make the last grocery list of the pay period, i.e., the list where I write down everything I either forgot to buy or couldn't find at the first two stores and pick up the remaining items at the third store, which this week is Kroger. Let's go Krogering...
Have a good one.
Yeah, I don't have time to resurrect lj. Or rather, as I'm teaching myself to say, "That's not a priority for me at this time."
The school project blog took up all my writing words. The muse--and some of you may recall that when I say muse I'm not speaking of an external entity, but only my own subconscious where the work and words originate--only give me around 800 words per day. If I use them on blog entries, they are just as gone as if I novelled. If I use them telling stories out loud? Gone. If I use them on school projects? Gone.
I am enjoying the school project blog, and I think it will serve me later, but for now it is a word-sink.
Entries from now on will probably be sporadic and of the Extreme Status Update variety.
Road Trip and a Purse
Zor and I took a road trip to the outlet store again and got a few more clothes. Well she got a few. I seem to have gone ape. I think it is an insecurity thing, from when I had four tee-shirts, two pairs of sweats and a jacket. I had no winter coat for years. I eventually bought one on payments from Fingerhut. I bought it extra ginormous so I could zip the baby up in it with me when we were waiting at bus stops. (She had her own coat, but the extra layer on her made me feel less like a failure for putting myself in a position where we had to sit at bus stops in the frigid cold.)
The clothing problem is new, but I also bought a purse. My purse problem is almost as old as I am. I am forever on the search for the perfect purse. I had one a few years ago, but the strap broke, and I don't like any of the current styles. Either the strap is too short (I don't want my purse in my armpit, thanks), the strap is too long, the bag is not the right size (it has to be not huge yet have room for a paperback book, a wallet, and an assortment of writing implements), or they don't have enough compartments (I hate having everything dumped in together so I have to dig for what I want). I really want it to be not black, and have no punk-rock metal studs or other garish ornaments, and I prefer that it not be a sack on a rope--I want my purse to hold its shape.
They used to make purses like this in the 80s and 90s, so ever since my last perfect purse bit the big one, I have been stalking yard sales and thrift stores. As a result I have bought a used purse it seems like every week for a while now, but none of them are quite right.
Anyhow, I bought a new-new purse. It's one of those what they now call cross-body thingies. I don't understand the need to change the name of these; they are obviously just shoulder bags with extended straps. What I like about this one is, the strap came in two parts and I buckled it together and onto the bag myself, so the length is precisely adjustable. It's the color Zor calls native-american--I finally figured out she is referring to buckskin, not skin color. It's a brown in the range I call Cobie-colored, a tawny kind of caramel or butterscotch. The metallic accents are small and gold. It will not go with any bookbag or laptop bag I own; for some reason those things always come in powerdude black and gray/silver, but I've decided I'm sick of powerdude black. If I could, I'd buy a laptop in Cobie colors. For one thing, I would spend less time lint-rollering pet hair off of it.
I'm not sure if the size is going to be perfect, but maybe the fact that I shelled out money for new will encourage me to give this purse a fair shake.
Now if I could find the perfect wallet.
Tomatoes
I'm thinking I'm not going to grow them anymore. Except for the first year we were here, I've either had hardly any yield (year 2, season of rain and blight) or planted the wrong kind (year 3, Cobie feasts on vine-fresh cherry tomatoes), or I planted the right kind and they came out the size of walnuts anyway (year 4). Maybe I should just go in halves with my dad on his plants and split the yield. It would give me an excuse to go visit them more often. I could put some peonies or something where the tomato bed is and just forget them.
Just something I'm thinking about.
Meanwhile I need to make the last grocery list of the pay period, i.e., the list where I write down everything I either forgot to buy or couldn't find at the first two stores and pick up the remaining items at the third store, which this week is Kroger. Let's go Krogering...
Have a good one.