New Stuff!

I went to Barnes & Noble today and found the most beautiful small leather journal that I absolutely LOVED... but I didn't get it cause I don't write that much on paper anymore unless I'm writing letters, and writing a letter in a journal is... um... stupid. I have a journal that is less than half full and I haven't been writing in it. Instead, I got an Anita Blake novel and a pack of Himalayan paper and envelopes. I just wrote a quick letter to RSM.
Maybe if I start writing more in my old journal, I can reward myself with a *new* journal!

Pile

This is the pile of squares that will, probably by morning cause I can't sleep, become a blanket.

Bordering

GAH... Must... finish border... on.....last... piece... before... putting together.....rest of.. blanket........argh!
It's just too tempting! I want to start piecing together the whole thing, finally! I want to see what it really looks like, rather than just placing the squares together on the floor! GAAAH!
After laying it all out on the floor again tonight (am I excited or what?), I decided on putting it together now, without the other row of squares. It'll be a lap blanket instead of a short blanket (I don't know how someone can sleep under some of those tiny things!) but it'll be a blanket!

I've moved into the guest room for the time being. I have to get my head screwed on straight(er) before I can start making decisions like... should I stay or should I go... dun nunna nunna nunna nun.

Looks like I've gravitated towards many short, stream-of-consciousness posts. Lovely.

Out

Well, I'm out of color for the granny squares, but I'm half done with the small ones, so the other half will be plain black. Anyone know how to soften yarn? The colored yarn is really soft, but the black is rather harsh to the touch. I don't want my blanket to have hard spots all over it.

For Butterfly Wife

AHAHAHAHAHAHA

Hole!

Yes, the squirrels in the attic have chewed a hole in the ceiling. A trap has been set, but I still hear them skittering around up there. I know there's more than one, but if the maintenance guy traps one, he'll take it to Animal Control to get tested for rabies. With so many children living here (and watching the damn things chew a hole over my head!) it's a good idea to take any opportunity to make sure rabies isn't a problem here.

Awww...

Aren't they just so cute when they're small??

This is turning into a crochet blog... is that ok? My therapist says the crochet is good for me. Maybe I'm moving away from needing the blog thing in my therapy. What'll I talk about now??

Counter Confusion

I just looked at my Bravenet hit counter and got a bit confused. What is a unique visitor if not a first-time visitor? How are the two different? *chin on fist* Hmmmm...

The blanket is almost half done, and I'm running out of yarn. Dangit, it was the yarn I got back home when we were visiting. I'll have to see if they'll mail me some. The Plymouth Yarn website doesn't list any of my three colors, so I'm a little worried I won't be able to get any more. It'll be a short blanket...
I'm going to scrapbook my crochet projects with scraps of the yarn left over so far. We'll see how that goes.

FIGHT NIGHT!

FIGHT NIGHT!!
FIGHT NIGHT!!!

We're about to go to Buffalo Wild Wings and watch UFC 74 and drink beer! WOOOHOOOO!

See tonight's fight card:
www.ufc.com

Can you tell I'm a big Randy fan?

New Glass

I usually don't post about politics or Iraq here, but I just loved reading this(http://badgersforward.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-glass.html) from Badgers Forward. For some reason my brand new iMac isn't letting me see the HTML text editor on Blogger, but there's the link. Badger 6 says it better than I ever could, so.. go read it!

Uh-Oh

I am even now trying to control my surroundings by picking a fight. I realized what I was doing and retired to the computer, but I'm afraid the damage has been done. It's been going too well for me to feel comfortable. I've waited long enough for the other shoe to drop, now the crazy part of me is determined to shake the damn shoe out of the tree.
Why can't I just enjoy the good times?

Sale!

I like crocheting so much, I now have too many potholders. I'm in the middle of a blanket that'll be finished before I thought it would, and I'm still unemployed. SO! ...who wants to buy a set of handmade, machine washable potholders? I'm making them with stripes too now. Or a scarf! I can make it with colors of your choice!

Here's one of the large granny squares for the blanket:



If you're patient, I can even make you a blanket too!

This week has been a good one in terms of what didn't happen. It sucked in terms of what did... nothing bad happened, we didn't get in any fights, I was able to control my anger a lot better... but I was constantly on edge (still am) waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the fight to explode. It didn't, and I'm more frazzled now at the end of the week than if it had. I'm not looking forward to the weekend.

The Hardest Letter... Sent

What do you write to the mother of your dead friend? I finally decided that, when I blogged about The Hardest Letter, I said it better than I could have any other way. Today I printed out that post and mailed it to her.
I'm going to go take a nap now.

Cherokee

I have a Cherokee language CD and booklet so I can teach myself a little bit of the language. I've been trying to find someone who speaks it to tell me the proper pronunciation for my Cherokee name. I was named in a ceremony when I was very young, at a powwow open to the public. I remember getting separated from my parents (again... they knew I could take care of myself if I got lost) and wandering into a circle of elders around a fire. One asked me to sit beside him on the log. I don't remember much about the dance, but I was told it was a naming ceremony, because I was Cherokee and needed a name. I don't know how they knew I was part Charokee, being blond and blue-eyed, but they were tribal elders, after all. They danced, and asked my spirit guide to show itself, and for inspiration. The old man beside me looked into my eyes and said I had the heart of a wolf. Not a large wolf, not the alpha of the pack, but the small wolf that has to fight for its place in the pack, for food, for everything in its life, because it is small. He introduced me to the rest of the elders as Little Wolf.
Oo-sdee wah-hi-yah, according to my book. Wolf, wah-hi-yah, sounds right. I don't remember the rest. I wish I did.

The elder was right, though... I've had to fight my way through a lot in my life. Maybe not more than other people, but it started a lot earlier than most.

Crochet Update

The blue scarf is finished, and after visiting the yarn shop near my parents' house, I started a blanket of granny squares. They're not just for Granny any more!



This is the one I like.



This is the one DH likes, so to compromise, I'm using both patterns. I don't have enough green to stitch them together, so I think I'll make a border on all squares in white and then stitch them together. Hopefully that'll look ok.

Odd Lunch

One might find my lunch today a little strange. It's an omelette, which isn't that odd in itself or IHOP wouldn't have made it. It's a tossup of what's left in the fridge after our trip this past weekend, and includes: canned spiced salsa tomatoes, Thursday-fresh cut onion pieces stored with the tomatoes (they were opened last week and I put the leftovers in a Ziploc), diced garlic, onion powder, oregano, dill weed, mozzarella and cheddar cheeses, and spaghetti sauce on top.
So, how do you like your eggs?

As Homefront Six says,
Discuss.
Pau.

(PS HFS: Condolences on your (mechanical) loss. That sucks.)

Letter

Take the trash out, go to the mailbox. Power bill. Overdraft notice, the first in nearly two years. Damn. Something from the doctor. A letter. Wait, I know that chickenscratch...
It's from RSM.
I fly to my door, wake up the iMac with a mouse click, log in. Rip it open, but not too sloppy. The postmark indicates last Friday--fast enough mail for me. One small sheet of United States Army stationery waits inside. It's full of chickenscratch. His first words:
"I'm alive. I'm tired. I'm ready to go home."
This week starts the endless FTXs, field training exercises. Saturday was a PFT, the physical fitness test. I'm sure he did fine, that overachiever. He doesn't mention rifle marksmanship qualifications, but I bet he doesn't want to brag. It's short and to the point, but what with the little free time they have, I certainly understand. I'm just happy to have gotten a letter!
"It's just that with day after day at 100F, the body armor can be a bit... uncomfortable. And when I say 'a bit uncomfortable,' I mean it in the same way as when I say, 'King Kong is a bit fuzzy.'"
Ah, there's his wit. He's fine.

Weekend

DH and I are visiting my parents for a 3-day weekend in order to trade our cat for my brand new iMac. Unfortunately, I can't deal with the cat right now, but my mom offered to keep her until I'm on a more even keel and can coexist. Around me is not particularly safe for her at the moment. Here, she will have a large house to roam around in, a big ol' deck to sun on, two retired people to love on her and feed her, and two friendly male cats who'll leave her a wide berth if that's what she wants.
We visited with DH's "adoptive" parents today over a hearty lunch, swapping college stories with their son and passing around photos. They are wonderful people and I'm glad to have them as my adoptive in-laws. I showed everyone the two scrapbooks I made for my real in-laws and my parents, and got an ego boost when I was told I had talent for it. It's fun stuff, but expensive.
On a more serious note, my mother is having trouble with the breast cancer rearing its ugly head again. Yes, again. She had it for the first time when I was 3, and it's been popping back up every so often since. My buddy in Kosovo lost his mother to breast cancer when he was just a little older than I was, so I know just how lucky I am. She's on a new, somewhat experimental weekly shot that's making her lose her hair. I didn't really take her seriously when she told me on the phone that she was getting bad enough to wear a wig, but when we got here and she finally showed me her head without the wig, I was shocked. She's actually sick. She's so tough and plugging right along, acting normal, that no one knows she's remotely ill. The wig is such a good one that people commented on her new hairstyle and nothing more. If you weren't in the know, you'd never suspect she's anything but perfectly fine. Seeing her with such wispy, thin hair really brought it home for me that she's not.

Pictures!

I promised pictures, now here are the pictures:


The scarf I've just started.


The potholders I made because I didn't have any potholders.


The blanket for my buddy in Kosovo.


The scarf for my best friend's girlfriend. Finished this one first. It's chenille.

Cards

I wrote two cards for unnamed, unknown soldiers today. It was weird... I like knowing who I'm writing to, so that I have something to write about. I bombarded RSM with letters the past two weeks, so I'm letting him have a rest for a few days. I've actually run out of stuff to write to him about, to be honest. I don't want to burden him with my own problems. I know he'd just get frustrated, not being able to help in any way. I feel bad about my last letter, though. I unloaded a bit, and when I'd realized just what I'd put in the letter, it had already been picked up out of my mailbox. Damn.
So we'll see about those cards and how RSM's doing later. Last night I finished another potholder in a different color. I'm going to see about making an oven mitt next. Pictures will come after this weekend, when I get my new computer. DH's doesn't have a webcam, and we don't have a digital camera or a scanner. Stuck.

UPDATE: The blanket is now a lapcoat... it keeps me warm while I work on it. DH loves to keep it so damn cold in the house. Slowly but surely, it's getting there. I know I don't have enough yarn, though. This skein is almost done, and I only have one more after that.

Quads!

Wow...
There are now 4 people in the world with the same DNA. Identical quadruplets have been born in Canada. How will their lives go? "Hi, I'm Kate, but you may have met my sisters, Ruby, Helen, or Kelly. Which one? I don't know."
Wow...
I was conceived as identical twins, but early on, my twin quietly reabsorbed, miscarried, something. I guess we were in separate amniotic sacs, since I lived. I used to go around with the feeling that if I just turned around fast enough, I'd see someone, or like I was missing someone. Took me years to realize that not everyone else feels like that.

Card-Carrying Psycho, Part 3

Well, I got a lot out in session today. Of course, that only means that I have 500 times more to think about now. I let out a lot of stuff I've been tamping down, trying to deny or change before I had to admit it was in my head. Now I have to deal with all that crap.
My appetite seems to have gone down a bit, so that's good. I'm not eating nearly as often as I was last week. I hope the new trend stays. I need to lose some weight so I can wear the two pairs of shorts I own... too hot for pants.
I ended up having to drag the cat out of the culvert to bring her back home. This weekend, one way or another, she's going to my parents' house. I just can't deal with her here.
Crocheting is coming right along: I finished a potholder today and a pot handle cover yesterday, having trouble with the Christmas stocking at the heel, and still plugging away at the blanket. I also started writing card for Soldier's Angels Germany... BW got me into it.

Oh glorious cool day! It's only 95 degrees here.

Environment

Well, this explains a lot. It sounds like the researcher watched me as a kid.

Furthermore, an Invalidating Environment is characterised by a tendency to place a high value on self-control and self-reliance. Possible difficulties in these areas are not acknowledged and it is implied that problem solving should be easy given proper motivation. Any failure on the part of the child to perform to the expected standard is therefore ascribed to lack of motivation or some other negative characteristic of her character.

My father was the one who insisted on the "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" ideology, and often told me that I was stupid or some other equally damaging name when I couldn't figure out the answer to a problem. I was just a kid, for Pete's sake! I didn't have all the worldly knowledge required for many of those problems, and sometimes, I was too scared to venture a guess for fear of being punished again. "[...]nor will she learn to trust her own responses to events." No crap.

On the other end of the spectrum, I just read a post from a friend about perception. It makes reality. A person's perception makes a thing or event good or bad, or neutral. I like to make things neutral. I don't want bad in my life, of course, but I don't want to label as "good" most of the things I deal with. I think that may be a bad course, because "neutral" can easily turn "bad" but it seems to be much harder for it to turn "good". Neutral doesn't seem to want to stay neutral.

Thanks, Mom...

This was in my email inbox this morning:

" Summer "
a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

SHIT!
It's Hot !

Second Time Around

Airforcewife's post at SpouseBuzz is a great one! I recently saw a scene quite like that on my own post. Yesterday I even met my neighbor two doors down by letting her borrow my jumper cables and sharing stories of perfectly good cars that have phantom problems that disable them from time to time--her Mustang, my old Firebird. (I miss that car.)
Now for the point of the post...
I was going to blog about that yesterday (jumping Mary's car) but I managed to land myself in the hospital for the second time this month, both for suicidal ideation. This time I didn't even see a medical doctor, never mind the psychiatrist. Apparently the computer "kicked [me] out of the system", according to a nurse. For both visits, by the time I get entered into the system, have blood and urine stolen from me, go through 20 (hundred) questions and actually see anyone, I've cooled down and am not suicidal in the least anymore, but damn cold and ready to go home and warm up if nothing else. Perhaps it's their strategy. Hopefully I won't be back at all, as this is stressing both me and DH to a breaking point. I land in the ER because I can't stay home, feel trapped, want to die, don't know what to do, etc, and then I don't get any help until I decide to go back home anyway. Scratch that option off the list.
So now I have to figure out what to do when I feel trapped and can't be around DH for his own safety. He has at least a little bit of the same problem I do, and finally promised to get an appointment for that, so if we agree on something while we're both rational and loving, he's more apt to forget or decide not to keep to the agreement when we're fighting.

Role Reversal

DH and I aren't the typical couple. You may have figured that out from earlier posts, but this time I mean gender roles. He's the one who wants to talk about feelings and such, and I don't usually like to get into that touchy-feely stuff. For instance, if I suddenly feel like a romp in the sack, he has to know why. I think it's because he wants to make sure I don't feel pressured, but damn! I married the man! Of course I want to! Most of my brain is screaming, "Just be happy and go with it, man!" but a teeny part is cooing, "Aww, he cares."

We went to Victoria's Secret yesterday and discovered the reason my bras suck. I grew not only a bra size, but a cup size as well! Dammit... all my boobie traps are outdated. I feel like I'm carrying around a pair of computers on my chest, always needing new softwear. We spent way too much at that store, in both time and money.
But it was fun!

Still

Still hot.
Still unemployed.
Still bored.

Nature vs. Nurture

In my research of the disorder I might (probably) have, as in, I identify with all 9 traits from the DSM, I found this. It basically says that the disorder comes from nature and nurture, and doesn't develop without one or the other. It helps knowing (maybe) where it comes from and how it developed, but I still need to know what kind of therapy will work on me. I'm a special case.

Linehan hypothesises that the disorder is a consequence of an emotionally vulnerable individual growing up within a particular set of environmental circumstances which she refers to as the 'Invalidating Environment'.

An 'emotionally vulnerable' person in this sense is someone whose autonomic nervous system reacts excessively to relatively low levels of stress and takes longer than normal to return to baseline once the stress is removed. It is proposed that this is the consequence of a biological diathesis.

Biology, eh? I guess that, what with DH's natural laid-backedness, and my freak-outedness, maybe we'll have a normal kid.
We had another fight today at lunchtime. I think DH has some issues that need a counselor, and perhaps the same disorder I do... or maybe he unconsciously mimics my screwupedness. It'll be interesting (and hard) trying to get him in to see someone, anyone. He's too afraid of what it'll look like on his military record.

On another note, it's over 100 degrees again. I'm glad the mail came early when it was a mere 98, at 1030 in the morning. Sigh.
*cranks up AC*

Saving Grace

Sean at Doc In The Box has just announced something that completely breaks my heart. It also scares the shit outta me, as I see in myself some of the warning signs and odd things his wife has been doing lately. Also, my DH is telling me, begging me, that we're going to be ok, he wants to work on this, he wants me to stay... I've been much worse off than I let on here. I've been so deeply depressed that DH asked me today if I even had anything invested in our marriage.
Sean, if it's any consolation, your posts have given me a swift kick in the rear, the fear of real failure, whatever you want to call it. I'm not going to give up on my marriage. I have an illness. It is not me. I will not let it take over my life and ruin it. I can get through this. DH has seen me at my worst, my darkest, my meanest, and he still wants to be with me.
I'm not going to let that slip through my fingers.
I'm sorry, Sean, but thank you. Thank you for helping me save my marriage.

Meme

I just realized that yesterday, I posted my 50th entry! So, to celebrate, I'll steal a meme from Nicole:

Three Things That Scare Me
1. That I'll turn out like my father
2. DH's possible death in a war zone (or anywhere else for that matter...)
3. Feeling trapped

Three People Who Make Me Laugh
1. DH
2. Guardian
3. Dane Cook

Three Things I Love
1. Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream
2. Good movies and TV series
3. Animals

Three Things I Hate
1. Idiocy, moronic behavior, and people who won't help themselves
2. Hot water from the cold tap
3. Cockroaches

Three Things I Don't Understand
1. Myself
2. Quantum physics
3. Politics

Three Things On My Desk
1. My crocheting
2. Gatorade
3. DH's picture of me (it's actually his desk)

Three Things I'm Doing Right Now
1. getting ready to take the muscle car to the shop (again)
2. putting on lip gloss (holy crap)
3. breathing

Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Travel extensively
2. See the Northern Lights
3. Earn a private pilot's license, go hang gliding, build my own ultralight...

Three Things I Can Do
1. Play the piano (and tuba and trombone, and sing pretty well too)
2. Touch my nose with my tongue (and roll the sucker, too)
3. Drive people absolutely bonkers

Three Things I Can't Do
1. Jump out of a perfectly good aircraft
2. Fix my damn computer
3. Give blood

Three Things I Think You Should Listen To

1. Emerald Rose

2. Your mother
3. Your heart

Three Things You Should Never Listen To
1. Politicians
2. Men who are trying to get you into bed (especially if you're a straight guy yourself)
3. Door-to-door salesmen

Three Things I'd Like To Learn
1. Turkish (so I can talk to my mother-in-law in her native tongue)
2. Knitting (I already know crochet)
3. Computer programming

Three Favorite Foods
1. Pasta
2. Chocolate
3. RSM's chicken francese

Three Shows I Watched As A Kid
1. Jeopardy!
2. NOVA
3. Britcoms, particularly Are You Being Served? and The Vicar of Dibley

HAWWWWT

Driving home at 1430 from my appointment today, I passed a bank with one of those scrolling light-marqees that tells the time and temperature. I had to look at my clock to make sure it wasn't telling the time:

106.

In the words of Army Wife, HAWWWWWT.

A Good One

I've seen this video before, but it always makes me cry... and so proud.

Cleaning Frenzy

I went on a cleaning frenzy this afternoon. This is how I know:

• There are no more Clorox Wipes.
• I emptied the (bagless) vacuum canister twice.
• My hands are itching because both the clothes and dish washers are busy, and I can't put in new loads yet.
• The cat is sitting in her clean litter box, purring. She likes to sit in her litter box. I don't know why. She is also, as of today, sufficiently afraid of the vacuum.
• The couch is an icky beige color, as opposed to an icky grey color.
• I didn't notice it was raining outside until it stopped.
• I checked the mail twice.
• I'm very aware that I forgot deodorant this morning.

Now I shall take a bit of Butterfly Wife's advice and sit on my icky beige couch and crochet... just for the moment. I won't worry about what will happen when DH gets home; I'll just crochet away and wait for him to get here. Can't do anything about the future yet, not until it's the present.
Relax, Green. It's just a shopping list. You can go back to the store if you forget something.
Relax, Green. Yes, it just rained, and you just mopped, but it's going to get dirty again anyway.
Relax, Green.

Lunch, Debriefed

Well, it didn't quite go as planned. I called the all-knowing Mom, and she informed me that the part I didn't remember was that Gramma put an egg in the mashed potatoes to help keep the patty together.
We're out of eggs.
So I tried bread crumbs. Maybe that would help keep the suckers from crumbling in the pan. It helped a little bit, but they still just ended up being globs of potato with tomatoes in them, seasoned with garlic and onion and crisped with olive oil.
Lunch was still good.

Lunch

Yesterday for a late lunch, I made omelets. I'm rather proud of myself, as I've never made them before. I'm not a big fan of eggs anymore; had too many scrambled as a kid. I think I may have found a style of eggs that I really like! We only had some leftover diced tomatoes (canned, boo) that I opened last week for taco night--the sole onion I'd been waiting to use on something (anything!) turned out to be rotten on the inside. Oh well, there was plenty of cheese to make up for it. I can never get enough cheese on anything to satisfy DH. He always wants more cheese!

I'm borrowing one of my grandmother's use-it-all methods for lunch today. Last night, I made a menu worthy of RSM himself: his own chicken francese, homemade mashed potatoes (not the boxed kind), and orange-ginger carrots, served with Gallo Family's white zinfandel (hey, we're newly married, give us a break). We have leftover carrots and potatoes. So! Today I will use the leftover potatoes and the tiny bit of aforementioned tomatoes, a little milk, and garlic and onion powder with some olive oil and a frying pan, and see what happens.

Holy Crap

Remember my new friend? Dee also asked me if I'd be interested in a road trip up the coastline during the last half of the week. It sounded fun at the time, so I said sure. It just occurred to me that her toddler daughter would be going with us... since her husband is going to the field for that time. Am I ready for a 7-hour road trip with a toddler? I'm not good with kids. What with my mental state at present, can I handle it?
Lots to think about, and it makes me feel like shit. Since when do I have to worry about a child's safety around me?

Randomizer, Version 1.5

Today's letter to blogdaddy RSM begins as such: "Don't worry, I've already blogged about this..." I just thought that was funny.

I have taken up crochet. Again. I was taught both crochet and knitting by my grandmother when I was wee little, then promptly forgot when the visit ended. During the summer between freshman and sophomore years of college, I was reintroduced by a lovely woman at the local Episcopal church when I showed up for the Wednesday knitting group. No one had an extra set of knitting needles, but she had her crochet projects with her too, and she took the time to get me started on another square for the afghan she was making for a family in Afghanistan (the irony was not lost on me). Now I'm hard at work on a blanket for a friend in Kosovo. He probably won't get it until he's home for Christmas, but it's still cold Stateside in the winter. He may or may not go to Iraq shortly after the new year, so we'll see. If not, he's planning on going back to school. I'm proud of him for that; he's too smart not to graduate.

My new meds are making me eat like a horse. My appetite is voracious and insatiable. DH and I stuffed ourselves to the point of pain with buffalo wings tonight, and my brain still says "EEEAT...EEEEAT..." like a freaking zombie. Good thing is, I can still feel my belly screaming in overstuffed pain, so that deters me from finding a snack. I'm still hungry, though. Dammit.

I'm backed up on the books I need (want) to read. I have a stack on the bookshelf, in the order in which I wish to read them, and it's higher than it's ever been before. I'm reading two at the same time right now (it's easy for me, I don't get the storylines or characters mixed up) and one of them is a Heinlein. He's always been a challenge for me to read, not because of the storyline or the language (both of which I enjoy immensely), but the fact that he details EVERYTHING that happens, throws in the characters' thought processes, talks about many "what ifs" in the storyline... There's just a lot to read to get the plot out of it. I really liked and appreciated Heinlein's style when I read "Stranger In A Strange Land" (why can I not underline??) because the reader had to have as much of the characters' thought processes as possible to grok. In an action book such as "The Cat Who Could Walk Through Walls", however, it slows me down. Maybe it's just me and my mindset at the moment, but I feel like I'm slogging through this book. Next in line is "The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress", along with some Tami Hoag, Sandra Brown, Mary Higgins Clark, and Orson Scott Card, who wrote one of my all-time favorites (if I ever had to make a list) "Ender's Game". I can't wait.

DH has been constantly downloading stuff for his new XBox. I'm glad it has some things I'd like too, like episodes of NCIS and Invader Zim. He's been playing Uno nonstop for hours.
Dammit, I just messed up and I don't know how. He can see that I'm busy on the laptop, but he just put the other controller down beside me and announced, "I want you to play with me." That threw me off kilter, as I'm busy blogging here, and I said, "Well can you ask me instead of making it sound like an order?" Looks like I just started a fight. Again.
I'm done for the night.

New Friend

I made a new friend last night. DH and I went to the house of one of his buddies from work, thinking it'd be another big house party where everyone gets drunk. I wasn't looking forward to it much at all, until we got there and discovered we were the only ones invited. We had a fun evening of sitting around the table talking, drinking beer (except me), and tossing slugs at each other. Well, ok, it was just Dee tossing the giant slugs from their driveway at her husband. He hates the things. Both men are afraid/grossed-out by bugs and snakes and other creepy crawlies.
Dee and her husband are having their religious wedding ceremony this month, and I offered to help where I can with her dress alterations. I know I can at least take the sleeves off; Mom showed me how when I was little. We've already made plans to go out for sushi on Wednesday. I'm excited; I haven't gone looking for good sushi since I moved here. I know if I get bad sushi, I might not want to try any more for a good long time, and I like sushi, just like my blogdaddy. Dee says this place is good, so we'll see.

Grrr... Yay

I'm on DH's laptop tonight. It's an older than dirt, slow, boxy, hot Compaq Presario that randomly turns itself off. It's what I've got to use while DH is watching tv or playing Xbox downstairs. My mom called me today from the Apple store. She asked if I'd rather have a MacBook or an iMac.
WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I'm not overly excited, am I?