Date Night

Tuna Christmas was hilarious.

The theater was beautiful in an overdone, kitchy kind of way.

Stuffing my face with surprisingly tasty enchiladas at midnight in the even kitchier tourist hot spot that doesn't stop was excellent, though my stomach still doesn't really think so.

At some point I need to drag myself from the marshmallowy goodness of down and pillows that is the bed so we can meet up with somebody for a margarita.

After that I'll be trying to stay upright long enough to play Monopoly if you need me.

Missing snow and wind chills in the teens.

Missing in the avoiding rather than in the feeling of loss meaning of the word.

I'm going to water the plants and possibly fall asleep reading a book.

Tonight is A Tuna Christmas.

Eeek!

There is an interview with a psychotherapist in the latest issue of The Sun who believes that part of the reason our culture is so fucked is because we are obsessed with avoiding any negative emotion.

By blocking out or trying to get through as quickly as possible grief or anxiety or anger we become emotionally handicapped.

She also briefly mentions emotional ecology, the worldwide human context of emotion, and the problem of feeling sad for the world and not having an outlet for expressing it.

Today I feel sad for the world.

I'd like to have her over for dinner.

Just packed away the Christmas tree. Little ornaments wrapped up in their cardboard box until next year.

Sun came out. Heat's off, door open.

Cats are out on the patio fighting over the highest perch. The smaller one likely to win.

Going to eat some penne with salty cheese and sadly not-quite-hot red pepper flakes.

Watch bad daytime television.

Go work out.

What are you doing in the lull between the holidays?

Seasons Greetings

5 PM and the fire's already a roarin'.

<----- There's my cake. Cute, ain't it?*

Got a mountain of hunks of dark chocolate and a bottle of mmmm delicious gin.

There's an adorable man in the kitchen crankin' out dinner.

Cozy and hope you are too.

*No boxes or cans were harmed in the making of this baked good.

Hi.

Happy Christmas Eve.

Keep meaning to write here because lots of wonderful, everyday things have been taking place. But then something shiny pops up in my peripheral vision and get distracted.

Not going to school and sleeping and reading things because I want to and baking and bopping around the ATX are fab.

Baked an incredibly cute three-layer German chocolate belated birthday cake for my Love.

Finished Christmas shopping, walked some miles, ranted about tacky yard displays.

Went to help some folk move and watched in horror at pieces of furniture being moved precariously over mismatched socks and kamikaze toddler toys and down a flight of stairs.

Decorated our little Norfolk Island Pine and hung newly made-by-mom-in-law stockings on the mantle.

Made a brief past my bedtime party appearance.

Refereed numerous bouts of feline ultimate fighting between Jinx and Cat (who will henceforth be known as Skids for reasons you don't really wanna hear about) and ate my weight in homemade by somebody grandmama tamales.

Now it's Christmas Eve which means Beef Bourguignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, and a fire from chunks of wood collected not-so-surreptitiously from various suburbanite curbs before lawn trimming collection day.

It's a pretty great little time we're having and a really sweet life we're carving out for ourselves.

Hope your holiday is merry and bright.

School has been cancelled the last two days so I haven't had to work.

My final today is postponed until this afternoon.

I am stuck inside doing a whole lot of nothing. Wasting time online.

And I see that everyone else in my class is doin' the same thing 'cause their little "online now" signs are all lit up.

Did learn that the girl who lived down the hall from me in the dorms freshman year got married to the boy from somewhere in South America one of my friends was in love with. And started a message exchange with someone who I haven't talked to since I was in her wedding 5 years ago.

So see, it isn't completely non-productive.

I washed all the bedding and Cat is snuggled in a patchwork quilt and snoozing away.

I'm trying to sleep less than the twenty hours a day he does.

I'll let you know how it works out.

Ice storm no good.

Better clear up in a hurry.

I'm due in the ATX a few days from now.

Dear Mike Huckabee:

I knew how HIV was/wasn't transmitted in 1992 and I was in the fifth grade.

Just sayin'...

Mebbe come to Kansas and you and Sammy Brownback can talk campaign strategy.

"I hope your blog stalker doesn't really show up at our house."

"If he does I'll just shoot him."

"No, if he does I'll shoot him."

"I want to shoot him. Maybe it'll make me feel better. Plus it's my stalker."

"But it's my gun. You wanna shoot somebody in Texas, baby, you're gonna have to get your own gun."

A little bit north they are having white, fluffy snow.

I hate white fluffy snow.

Just not as much as the nasty, freezing drizzle that is going on here.

From the time winter sets in until the time it decides to head out my feet are cold, intermittently wet, and it makes me cranky.

Have 9 dollars in the bank, a box of cereal and some peanut butter in my pantry, and it's 50 degrees in my house.

As you can imagine it's super pleasant to be around me right now.

But, looking on the bright side, there is a song that idealizes baggy sweat pants filled up with big booty.

And part of the lyrics: " shorty was hot like a toaster."

I'ma try and be hot like a toaster until winter breaks, spring comes, and I move closer to the equator.

Later.

Cheer

My love is taking me to see Tuna Christmas in San Antonio.

So if you have been waiting to become my stalker, now is your chance.

Though you might want to try and show up a bit earlier so you can have madeleines* and Mexican hot chocolate for Christmas breakfast.

*Almost posted a link to a photo of some madeleines but none of them were as pretty as mine so thought it would be misleading.

Things to read/think about if you decide not to do anymore school work for the semester:

Crazy Cat People

Cars

Murderesses (with their own show!)

Winter break produce shopping

Jobs

Anything I'm missing?

Lighter Side

Am devoting six hours of my life to watching a SciFi Channel mini-series.

If anything calls for pigs in a blanket this is it.

Dreams lately have been disturbed.

Sometimes if can consciously think of something else right when wake up they break into little shards and dissipate out of memory.

Not today.

The bathroom in my house had grown into a long hallway and right inside the door had my hands around the throat of a young woman. Squeezing.

Could feel her windpipe collapsing under my fingers.

When woke up wanted to cry.

Stumbled into the bathroom, normal size now.

In the mirror my face is puffy, circles under eyes. One eye is red, both are bloodshot.

Look tired. Haunted.

I spend the rest of the day trying to get the dream out of my head.

Don't like it.

Let's take a nap.

Please?

Bird Killer

She's ferocious. And sneaky. Watch out, feathered friends...

Right now am eating the most disgustingly fabulous kind of lunch.

A big fat turkey frank wrapped up in a canned biscuit with a slice of pepper jack cheese and toast toasted in the oven until the cheese is bubbly.

Dipping it in a puddle of jalpeno mustard and Heinz 57.

Grosses you out, don't it?

I'm gonna work out and take a shower.

Then go kick it doing homework with my nursing school posse.

We're making research proposal presentation posters so bring your gluestick.

Just answered the phone at parent's house.

Thought the hello that I heard was the phone echoing back my hello.

It did sound like me.

Until my sister starting grumping about trying to find our mother.

We look alike, too.

It's cold, gray, and wet outside.

1994 is on the fritz and I feel lonely.

Who wants to come keep me company?