Thanksgiving and General Home Musings
Thanksgiving was great! We had thirteen people: Bill, Noelle, and Justin Shear (I scorn your proper semicolon use, Becky!); Bill, Katie, and Cooper Anderson; Mary Prevo and Jim and Lucas Munson; and Momdad, Jon, and I. We had seven pies. :) And we had our Mad Lib, and everything was awesome.
We're still eating leftover pie. Blueberry pie only gets better, and it makes the best breakfast I can imagine.
I've ripped quite a bit of music while I've been here, mostly Classical and Led Zeppelin. (I heard Beethoven's Sixth in the car, and it made me need a Classical fix, and Jon got a Zeppelin CD which was good, so I ripped it.) I also got a haircut (fluffy!) and did some writing. Notably, I established a calendar for my fantasy world to use. Hoorah! It solves a plot problem I'd been having while simultaneously making sense!
I had a creepy dream last night. It started out all right; Beethoven's Sixth was playing at some point, and I also had awesome cats. I went to Skiffy, and I decided that someone should carry Erika and Seanie up to their seats in the middle of the room - it might have been some special day, but it might have just been because they're kind of Skiffy royalty. So, I was already carrying Erika, but I said to the room that I thought one person should carry them both at the same time. They said it couldn't be done. Tom wasn't there, or something. I said that if one of my cats carried Seanie, it would count as me doing it, since they're my cats. I had a crowd of them, maybe six or seven, and they weren't that big; they were housecat-types, but maybe the size of bobcats. They couldn't talk, but they could understand English and respond. So I stood at the front of Skiffy in the manner of a circus ringmaster and asked if anyone thought one housecat could carry Seanie up to the middle of Skiffy on its own. Skiffy said no. I went to the cats for volunteers to try. Four volunteered. For the sake of simplicity for Skiffy, I called them Cats A, B, C, and D. People began to get excited and hyped and bet on which cat might be able to carry Seanie, but in the end, none of them could, because they were all freaking housecats, for crying out loud. :P
Anyway, then I was in my room looking at books. I found one of those shiny children's paperbacks, and I looked at it. It had the little taglines on the cover; they said,
"A winged demon . . . can I really find Bear a son like his mother's?" I thought that the second line made the book sound incestuous, as I vaguely remembered (in the dream - this BETTER not be a real children's book) that Bear was the protagonist's brother (just a name; they were Native Americans, I think). It wasn't meant like that, though. Anyway, then I got dragged into the book. I saw the winged demon, though I can't remember now what it looked like. It tried to get me to follow it, and I said "no", and it went away. The book's narration kicked on in my head, saying something like "The winged demon told people to follow it, but it led them to death." I felt proud of myself for refusing to go. Suddenly, I was in my kitchen, going through my cupboard. I found a pack of what I thought was oatmeal, and thought about heating it up to eat just because I was cold, but then realized it was actually Alphabits with chocolate - in fact, with M&Ms chopped up like the ice cream toppings I eat at school. I was just noting this when I realized that the house was silent, and I went cold suddenly: where was my family? The book's narration cut into my head again: "All people had to do to escape the winged demon was to say no to following it, but many thought they had no choice. Some even persuaded or tricked others into following." I suddenly saw my mom telling me and my brother that we had to come on and go someplace. Just then, in real life, I heard Mom say my name. I woke up. She was telling me that it was time to go to FACES, the food pantry where we volunteer.
You'd think this would be creepy, but it wasn't a lingering dream - in fact, the awfulness barely had time to register when I woke up, and it dissipated immediately, as if I'd turned off a TV. I do think, though, that the winged demon may have something to do with my idea of death, since I don't really believe it's mandatory. Don't know what Mom's bit meant, if anything; maybe it's just because she's a realist.
Anyway, FACES went well, though by the end we were down to canned corn, peaches, pears, and beef stew. Well, and there was bread someone had brought in, so we put that in the bags. The people who got those last bags were mostly late, so some of the people volunteering said they were lucky to get anything, but I can't help but give them the benefit of the doubt - maybe they had to get kids to a doctor's appointment, or couldn't get off work earlier, or had an emergency, or any of a number of things. Anyway, at least the stuff we had left was stuff people can use. Too often we come down to cans of spaghetti sauce.
Made cookies with Laura and Alice today! It was great fun. Also, Melissa visited. (She's the English woman who had traded houses temporarily with the Prevo-Munsons, and now lives in Richmond and teaches at UR.) Mom offered her tea, and she said,
"I just had tea - but I'd love another cup, actually." *Squee* Melissa exists to fill my stereotypical idea of what British people should be. The first time I met her, she was making tea.
Anyway, our cookies were good, and it was wonderful to see Alice and Laura. Laura told us about her Thanksgiving being sick, having to eat dinner in a separate room from her family (but looking in, getting special service, and not having to help with anything - she insists it was pretty cool), and Alice about the rescue squad she works with, which is bad and sometimes calls her cell phone after passing her empty driveway to say,
"You're not at home or at the squad. Where are you?" (My suggested answer: "I'm at the crackhouse, gambling my whores for heroin." Actually, today saw me suggest that Alice say a lot of odd things; my favorite, besides the aforementioned, is "Do you have any idea how hard it is, being a paradox?")
Hmm, my lj-ing has caused me to miss hot tubbing. Perhaps tomorrow night.
We're still eating leftover pie. Blueberry pie only gets better, and it makes the best breakfast I can imagine.
I've ripped quite a bit of music while I've been here, mostly Classical and Led Zeppelin. (I heard Beethoven's Sixth in the car, and it made me need a Classical fix, and Jon got a Zeppelin CD which was good, so I ripped it.) I also got a haircut (fluffy!) and did some writing. Notably, I established a calendar for my fantasy world to use. Hoorah! It solves a plot problem I'd been having while simultaneously making sense!
I had a creepy dream last night. It started out all right; Beethoven's Sixth was playing at some point, and I also had awesome cats. I went to Skiffy, and I decided that someone should carry Erika and Seanie up to their seats in the middle of the room - it might have been some special day, but it might have just been because they're kind of Skiffy royalty. So, I was already carrying Erika, but I said to the room that I thought one person should carry them both at the same time. They said it couldn't be done. Tom wasn't there, or something. I said that if one of my cats carried Seanie, it would count as me doing it, since they're my cats. I had a crowd of them, maybe six or seven, and they weren't that big; they were housecat-types, but maybe the size of bobcats. They couldn't talk, but they could understand English and respond. So I stood at the front of Skiffy in the manner of a circus ringmaster and asked if anyone thought one housecat could carry Seanie up to the middle of Skiffy on its own. Skiffy said no. I went to the cats for volunteers to try. Four volunteered. For the sake of simplicity for Skiffy, I called them Cats A, B, C, and D. People began to get excited and hyped and bet on which cat might be able to carry Seanie, but in the end, none of them could, because they were all freaking housecats, for crying out loud. :P
Anyway, then I was in my room looking at books. I found one of those shiny children's paperbacks, and I looked at it. It had the little taglines on the cover; they said,
"A winged demon . . . can I really find Bear a son like his mother's?" I thought that the second line made the book sound incestuous, as I vaguely remembered (in the dream - this BETTER not be a real children's book) that Bear was the protagonist's brother (just a name; they were Native Americans, I think). It wasn't meant like that, though. Anyway, then I got dragged into the book. I saw the winged demon, though I can't remember now what it looked like. It tried to get me to follow it, and I said "no", and it went away. The book's narration kicked on in my head, saying something like "The winged demon told people to follow it, but it led them to death." I felt proud of myself for refusing to go. Suddenly, I was in my kitchen, going through my cupboard. I found a pack of what I thought was oatmeal, and thought about heating it up to eat just because I was cold, but then realized it was actually Alphabits with chocolate - in fact, with M&Ms chopped up like the ice cream toppings I eat at school. I was just noting this when I realized that the house was silent, and I went cold suddenly: where was my family? The book's narration cut into my head again: "All people had to do to escape the winged demon was to say no to following it, but many thought they had no choice. Some even persuaded or tricked others into following." I suddenly saw my mom telling me and my brother that we had to come on and go someplace. Just then, in real life, I heard Mom say my name. I woke up. She was telling me that it was time to go to FACES, the food pantry where we volunteer.
You'd think this would be creepy, but it wasn't a lingering dream - in fact, the awfulness barely had time to register when I woke up, and it dissipated immediately, as if I'd turned off a TV. I do think, though, that the winged demon may have something to do with my idea of death, since I don't really believe it's mandatory. Don't know what Mom's bit meant, if anything; maybe it's just because she's a realist.
Anyway, FACES went well, though by the end we were down to canned corn, peaches, pears, and beef stew. Well, and there was bread someone had brought in, so we put that in the bags. The people who got those last bags were mostly late, so some of the people volunteering said they were lucky to get anything, but I can't help but give them the benefit of the doubt - maybe they had to get kids to a doctor's appointment, or couldn't get off work earlier, or had an emergency, or any of a number of things. Anyway, at least the stuff we had left was stuff people can use. Too often we come down to cans of spaghetti sauce.
Made cookies with Laura and Alice today! It was great fun. Also, Melissa visited. (She's the English woman who had traded houses temporarily with the Prevo-Munsons, and now lives in Richmond and teaches at UR.) Mom offered her tea, and she said,
"I just had tea - but I'd love another cup, actually." *Squee* Melissa exists to fill my stereotypical idea of what British people should be. The first time I met her, she was making tea.
Anyway, our cookies were good, and it was wonderful to see Alice and Laura. Laura told us about her Thanksgiving being sick, having to eat dinner in a separate room from her family (but looking in, getting special service, and not having to help with anything - she insists it was pretty cool), and Alice about the rescue squad she works with, which is bad and sometimes calls her cell phone after passing her empty driveway to say,
"You're not at home or at the squad. Where are you?" (My suggested answer: "I'm at the crackhouse, gambling my whores for heroin." Actually, today saw me suggest that Alice say a lot of odd things; my favorite, besides the aforementioned, is "Do you have any idea how hard it is, being a paradox?")
Hmm, my lj-ing has caused me to miss hot tubbing. Perhaps tomorrow night.