brownie darts

I got shot by one today in my own kitchen. I don't know where they're lurking around here, but I've suspected their presence for a long time.
I was just making some tea, minding my own business....I switched off the heat, turned around to reach for the tea container and the next thing I know my thumb is stinging for no apparent reason, till I look at it and see this little black sliver-like thing protruding from the center of it. I was not touching anything, let alone any wood so there's no way I could have gotten a splinter. Seriously, where did that come from!
so you have it, the only answer: brownie darts.

broken reccord

I love to sing, and when I'm alone I will often sing on and on without even really thinking about it, so much that I wear myself out and start to find myself annoying. One of the most vexing things is that my brain seems to get stuck on just a few tunes. And it's not like it's one tune for a while and then another one, and so forth...it's the same tunes for years and years. I wouldn't know the statistics but it's a good bet when I open my mouth one of about three tunes will pop out: Think of Me, and Angel of Music from Phantom of the Opera, or Greensleves/What Child is this. Sometimes I think I would punch myself in the mouth if it were possible when one of those insists on blocking all other tunes from my mind. I'll stand there wanting to sing but not being able to make a peep unless it's one of those three, yet again. Or I'll suddenly find myself singing one of them for the 10th time that day and get the urge to just let out a blood curdling scream. I actually really like all those tunes, and I do enjoy singing them, just not over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over......

Life is Good

There are few things that make life beautifull like music.
I wish I could share all the songs I love with you, but of course what is beautifull to one isn’t always to another.
so go listen to your favorite song, and enjoy this glorious moment with me =)

you know you're reading too much manga...

noname-manga
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

"Customer Order: Name, No"
....when that looks like a real name.

....and then you draw a comic about your linguistically rewired brain malfucntions because you're having trouble thinking in prose. - I won't be starting my own web-comic, heh, but I captured the sequence pretty well. You'll have to view the pic in full size to actually read it*

Nah-may sounds like kind of a cute name don't you think?

*for those non-manga readers, if I know any, you have to read right to left, top to bottom - starting on the righthand page.

the grand scheme

"Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"

So we had this mandatory morning meeting from HELL. Some block-head decided the way to boost moral and spread Christmas cheer and enthusiasm was to drag everyone out of their beds before 7AM on a Saterday and make them play dumb games with a very pop-quizzish slant to them. However, God is good, even if it's not always to me. As I left the house I came upon a little worm writhing on the already dry pavement with a few ants crawling on him.
'Never fear! I shall save thee little bug!'
I scooped him up on a leaf and put him down in the midst of nice moist soil he could snuggle down into. Yes, God even cares about little worms...enough to boot me out of bed snarling and hissing. So maybe, when you(or I) need someone, He'll boot somebody else out of bed too. Somehow, as horrible as that morning was, it was all worth it, because one life was saved, even if it was only a worm's. When things aren't going your way, when all your world looks grey, maybe this moment isn't about you, maybe it's about someone else, maybe it's about a little worm frying in the sun. I guess He really was doing something for me though, I don't regret that day afterall. heh.

ok that was really sappy, but...*shrug*

Rachmoninov’s second piano concerto

The more I listen to it the more I like it.
I love the begining of the first movement after the initial piano when the strings join all heavy and dark and thick.
The seccond movement has one of the most tender sadly-sweet melodies I’ve ever heard. It’s so beautifull, during the begining part I have to pause and close my eyes and soak it in like a sponge* that has been in the desert. I can hardly help crying sometimes from the beauty of it.

If you get a chance listen to it and tell me what you think.

*I'm thinking ocean sponge, as in live animal sponge. But not as in Sponge Bob.

like talking with your mouth full at a nice restaraunt

reading certain books in public can be hazardous to your pride and social standing. ...well at least if you read like I do. I get very involved with the characters and react outloud. I make faces, giggle, squeal with delight, talk back, sometimes read aloud, and generaly interact with the book. Say...if one of the characters is being particularly stupid I will often roll my eyes and hit my forhead with the book, if something happens that I predicted I exclaim triumphantly, if something really happy happens I will bounce up and down and grin exstatically, etc. So....when walking or sitting in a public place this can draw some very unwanted attention. heh. like today. I had to put away my book as I walked home because I could tell I was gearing up towards making quite a scene on state street. You ask what book? I'm on the 8th volume of Hana-Kimi, a cute sappy romantic comedy manga.

Ulitmate Dorkdom

...the ongoing saga of the bloody cold.

So this morning I get up and lug myself off to work in the cold morning air and about three blocks from my house my nose starts to bleed, actually gush would be the best word to describe the event. I stop to get some kleenex from my purse and as I look down my dress now has several red stripes, lucky it's sort of a redish purple already. Now, if any of you remember it, I was wearing that purple swirly patterned 'eowyn' style dress I made a while back, but because it was cold I had my sweatshirt on over it - bad fashion choice, but I was sick and cold and tierd, and to top it off I was also wearing a pastel rainbow colored scarf because it happened to be the one that was out, and it's the snuggliest one I have anyway, so yeah, I looked pretty dorky when I left the house, but now I've got blood down the front of me and a couple of dry kleenexes ain't gonna fix it. I've got bigger things to be worried about though, like how not to leave a bloody red trail down the pavement. So there I am walking down the street in the morning sun with a soggy red kleenx pressed to my nose, held high so that instead of running down my hand into my sleve it's running down my throat, and my other hand pinching the bridge of my nose to try and stem the flow....which...isn't....working. I walk all the way to work looking like a complete dork, muttering curses on my nose, and leave a lovely bloodstained fingerprint on the bell by the door. My nose is still bleeding. The manager comes and lets me in. I explain. It's still bleeding. She turns on the faucet so I can wash my hands and get a wet rag without leaving more evidence. ....And it's still bleeding. She takes care of the first delivery guy. And I sit on the stool holding my nose like some kid in the principle's office who got in a fight, only I don't look angry and pouty, I look dull and miserable, and wondering if I can 'call in sick' on account of a bloody nose.

nose...running...red

yup...I've got a cold. I've been calling it 'allergies' for a week now, but my denial tactic doesn't seem to have worked.
I think my subconcious must be trying the old bloodletting treatment because I can't even count how many times I've had a bloody nose today. I'm sick of blowing it, but if I don't my head feels like it's going to explode. I think I've been through two boxes of kleenex today. I think the sinus medicine dries out the nasal pasages a bit too well and that's why it's bleeding all the time, ...or I just blow too hard, heh. Anyway it seems I have two choices it can run clear or it can run red, either way it's still running, ugh. Good thing I like pretty red on white =) If I were my mom I'd be passed out.
It's actually kind of nice though when I'm just laying here feeling all limp and snuggly surrounded by my two fuzzy moss green blankets.
I just thought I'd share the joy with y'all =)

Fuzzy Dreams

I recently had a dream in which I found a little beetle sized bunny with pink irridescent wings scampering about in some clover. It was sooo cute! I took it home with me and fed it veggies and it grew up to be a normal sized bunny, all white and furry and cuddly - with pink shimmery wings.
Then I had another dream in which I was playing with a really fuzzy little animal that looked kind of like a cross between a penguine and a polar bear cub. It didn’t have a beak and it was fluffy but it was colored like a penguin and had flipper like wings. It was so cute how it waddled around on the snow drifts.
I guess I must have been feeling particularly snug and cuddly or something. =)
sigh, I like happy dreams.

Pathetic =)

IMing-cut
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

.....the window rattles, the house creaks, the computer fans whirr, keys go tatta-tap, somebody snickers.....
yes, that's right, we're IM-ing eachother. We were going to watch a movie, but then we ended up sitting there chatting online for about 3 hours I think. heh...geeks! =)

"profound" thought of the day

People often talk of the deceased as 'looking down on them' from heaven.
If that's all the afterlife is, then the closest thing to Heaven on Earth is TV.

neapolitan toes

I went through my closet this weekend and found a bunch of shoes that I never wear, so I decided I ought to try them out and see if I might actually ever want to wear them agian. Unfortunately I chose to try some out this morning and halfway to work I realised that they were a bad choice. When I finally got there and inspected my feet I dsicovered I now had neapolitan ice-feet. Cold, vanilla skin, chocolaty brown mud splotches (thanks to this weekend's rain) and bright strawberry blisters. yum =)

Never ask a Lady that

So I decided to finally go and get a library card, after having moved almost a year ago.
'How old are you?' the library clerk asks me.
The world stops. I stand there like a deer in the headlights. What am I supposed to say? My mind is a complete blank. I have no idea how old I am! I've never been good with math in my head so trying to figure it out from my birthday is going to take me half a century. The clock is ticking. The clerk is staring at me. I have to say something! Then as my mind is still groping around in the amnesiatic dark I hear my mouth spit out "21." Not untill several sentenses later, in the middle of a surprised "you don't look that old" speech does it occur to me 'wait a moment, what did I say? that's not how old I am! umm.... that would be, oh yeah, 24.' But what am I supposed to do? say "wait a minute, actually I'm 24, I don't know why I said 21, but I really do know how old I am, and yeah, that's how old I really am, really." If 21 was pushing it, how on earth could I be convinceing with 24? Feeling too stupid to try to correct myself I just took the card and made a run for it. Oh well.

Bee Season Open

Around our appartment complex there are a number of Trumpet/Lily type bushes (I’m not good with plant names). The bees love them. You walk down the little garden path and it sounds like you’re in a computer lab complete with buzzing florescent lights. The strange thing is, these bees seem to be dropping like flies. It’s quite treacherous for us bare-footers when the sidewalk is peppered with little booby-trapped corpses resting in peace with stinngers pointed up toward that big rose garden in the sky. Going down to check the mail has become reminiscent of Indianna Jones adventures, you have to watch your step and watch for things whizzing past your head at the same time. Is there some kind of Bee Pleague going around? Poisoned flowers? Homicidal stealth wasps protecting their territory from squatters? -Or how about this: the killer poisoned the bees and placed them on the sidewalk path expecting his target to step on them and then appear to have died from a severe allergic reaction to bees!

total randomness

Do you ever get a word or phrase stuck in your mind? well this morning I woke up with one repeating it'self to me over and over: scintillating rubber noodles. Over my chex this morning I thought to myself -yes, I've cracked.

reflection of the day

In general, once people get on a road, no matter how much it sucks, or how far out of the way it’s taking them, they rarely bother to take a different one.

yes I am feeling cynical.

Peachy =)

this is a divine moment. I think ambrosia must taste like bryers peach ice cream. mmmm.... yes this moment is beautifull.

Fads and Obsessions

A psychological observation and inquiry.

I have noticed that there are people who obsess and people who don’t. Another way of saying what I mean when I say obsess here is that some people are prone to fads. A fad being: "A fashion that is taken up with great enthusiasm for a brief period of time; a craze." (from dictionary.com) I’m not sure what all the not-obsessive types would be, though one would be the kind that just doesn’t get excited about anything, in fact doesn’t really do or think about anything they don’t have to, I know some people like this. Anyway, the Obsessors seem to make up a good deal of the population - how else could pop-culture survive? That is not to say that all pop-culture savvy people are obsessors, nor that obsessors don’t obsess over many other things that are not popular - there are thousands of little one-person fads going on out there.

The characteristics of the Obsessor or Fadd-ish person, as I think of that personality type, are these: 1a) they are constantly finding new things they really like, 1b) they do not continue to really like most of these things for more than a few months to a year on average. 2) they will go to great lengths to discover all they can about the topic they are currently obsessed about (this may include anything from reading a number of heafty books, to stalking, to fumbling into highly embarrasing situations in the attempts to gain some connection with their obsession) 3) they are driven to collect as much paraphanalia associated with their obsessed topic as possible, and usually display it all prominently in their room, attempting to cover every inch. 4) it is difficult to talk to them about anything else, in fact it is dificult to talk to them at all because usually they are busy talking to you and anyone else who will listen about whatever it is they are obsessed with - this is because they cannot get it off their mind for a moment -every new topic leads back to this one. 5) they have a tendancy to try to appear to be experts on their topic, even with people who could care less about it -which means they won’t gain any respect from that individual. It doesn’t matter, they want to feel like an expert anyway.

The two main charactersistics are that Obsessors get extreemly interested and excited about things (that’s the obsession part of course), but they do not stick with one thing for very long (that’s the fad part). It seems it is impossible for them to be interested in more than one thing at once, but their interest is very intense.
I think it would be interesting to do a study on how much people actually remember from their previous obsessions. I think they probably do retain much of it, but it ceases to be constantly on their minds. Their paraphanalia is relegated to the back of drawers, boxes on the highest shelf, the far corner under the bed, and their vast stores of trivia filed away under ‘nostalgia’ or ‘I can’t believe I was into that’ categories of the mind.

Now it seems to me that in general people who stay very interested in one thing their whole life do not tend to obsess quite as much - we see charicatures of such people frequently enough; people whose whole life is centered around one thing, who don’t posess anything not related to it, who don’t talk about anything else, but I don’t think I’ve ever met one. Another difference seems to be that obsessors tend to focus on something more specific, while people who keep a deep interest over their lifetime tend to be interested in a broader subject, and will at various times be focused in on certain details of that topic, but without treating each with a greater enthusiasm than they show for the subject as a whole. An example could be perhaps one person who is really ‘into’ golf their whole life, and a person who is really ‘into’ Tiger Woods. The seccond person probably has interest in other golfing things only because of their connection with Tiger Woods, while the first person may be fairly interested in Tiger Woods because of his significance in the broader subject of golf. The first will watch many players, and will probably play golf himself because he enjoys it, while the seccond will only watch Tiger Woods play, and may try to learn how because he wants to be like Tiger Woods. The first might own one poster of Tiger Woods, perhaps, while the seccond will probably own several, and a key chain, and a calendar, and a hat,... and clippings of all the news or magazine articles about him.

I have never quite been able to understand the ‘serial obsessor’ types. For myself, whenever I discover something new I like it doesn’t overthrow my other likes. I also tend to learn and accumulate more slowly. As far as I can tell, the topics I like to talk about are pretty much always the same, and usually if I can’t stop talking about something it’s more likely to be a thought which is either troubling or which has suddenly hit me, rather than a thing or person, and doesn’t last more than a few days. I may often say similar things, or be reminded of the same things often, but they are of a wide variety, that is, unconnected to eachother.

I think part of what causes the fads of these obsessive people is that they are naturally intense and passionate, but are searching for a focus for these atributes, or rather, searching for themselves. Naturally everyone searches for himelf in some capacity, and in doing so will try out different interests, but these trials or phases are just more apparent in obsessive people because of their intense persuit.

The interesting thing to me is that with each new idea or topic they will passionately profess it is ‘SO true’ ‘SO right’ ‘SO wonderfull’ whatever it is, it is the only thing worthwhile. But how can they not notice that whatever is so right keeps changing, and therefore how can they be sure this time it is so right, since, after all, they have proven themselves wrong so often before, sometimes coming to despise their former tastes. Do they live so totally in the moment that they do not remember when they felt the same way about something else? That they cannot foresee this current feeling giving itself up for something different? How can one cope with this? How can one loose or reject or forget ones deepest passions? those things which give one individual identity and define one’s soul and approach to life? I am not meaning to sound criticle here so much as ask an honnest question, for I cannot immagine it myself. If I should ever stop liking fantasy, dragons, fairies, longing for Scottland, loosing myself if Beethoven’s music, wearing long skirts and loving to dress up in renaissance clothes, prefering long hair..... then I should feel as though I had ceased to be myself. These are so much a part of me, these are things which I feel intensely about, which I persue and love and preach, and surround myself with. How could I loose intrest in any of them without loosing part of myself? I am convinced I could not. But perhaps for some people this is not so. Perhaps they do not have a sense of losing themselves, or perhaps in spite of their intensity their obsessions never are as much a part of them as mine are to me? I do not know, though I should like to be able to understand. I may be entirely mis-percieving and mis-judging things in regards to such people. In any case, there are my observations. If you have any differing insights I would love to hear them.

Christmas in July

Well it's not quite July yet, but anyway, a couple days ago I made Gingerbread cookies to satisfy my craving, and today I am sporting a bright shiney rudolf nose, my souvenire from a nice day at the beach. I even got myself a gift: a pretty new bookshelf. yay! my room looks so much nicer. Yes, I am full of happiness and warm fuzzies.

Twister

ThePurpleDress-Katie
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

I have been playing twister with myself on top of a large piece of purpple velvet. It manages to be both slippery and sticky at once - at exactly the opposite moments I wish it to be either. Trying to straighten one end while holding down the other is an interesting yoga-ish feat. But now I have a new dress yay! -that's Katie (a new friend) doesn't she look pretty in it =)

Boo Hoo Hoo!

squirrel jumps suddenly onto limb
startled owl flys off indignantly

Death Wish?

Yesterday at work I was slitting a box and the knife got caught and then suddenly ripped free of the tape and flew at my wrist. For a moment I was waiting for a red waterfall to run forth. . .or at least trickle. . .but only a couple of drops came at which point I reflected that it really might have been more lucky if it had been more than a nick - lying down somewhere and regaining my strength from blood loss sounded like a pretty good alternative to facing the mountain of boxes I was supposed to, unrealistically, be able to finnish. And then I started reflecting on my dissappointment that it didn’t bleed, and realised that I’m always disappointed when things don’t bleed. Not that I actually have a death wish, but blood is so pretty, particularly against my white skin. yeah so, maybe I ought to be disturbed at myself.

They really are trying to kill me at work though. This week is Inventory which means we can't have any books left in boxes when they come to do that - they all have to be out so they can count them, and they all have to be registered in our system so they can get a good comparrison of their count to our reccords. HOWEVER some numbskull higher up in the company decided now would be the perfect week to ship us all the 'summer reading' which means at least twice the normal ammount of boxes coming in each day. Agh! To top this off the trash compactor key is lost so now the back room has also become garbage storage. Egad!

The Best of Fabrics, The Worst of Fabrics

I love sheer flowy fabric, it is so much fun! -to wear that is. Sewing it is another story entirely - then I think it's straight from hell. It stretches in odd directions and will not lay evenly on the floor when cutting it. It slides off your lap or the table when you're trying to sew or pin it. It unravels faster than the road-runner (I was watching Wile E. Coyote cartoons while cutting it out). Individual strings get pulled and gather it all up where you don't want it too, and once that happens there's no smoothing it out again, it will always look puckered there. It pretty much does exactly the opposite of whatever it is you are trying to do to it. It's absolute madness trying to tackle it, but if you perservere you end up with something very lovely....well sometimes. Sometimes you just end up with a ravely snagged mass of mutilated fabric. I am happy to say that this time I did come out triumphant, for the most part anyway.

Remind me to write Shelob a note

Shelob sent us a snack today at work (or it could have been the Wraith*) - how thoughtfull.
Among the boxes there was one, about hobbit-coffin sized, all mummified in a thick case of grungy stringy seran-wrap that looked for all the world like a mass of spiderwebs. Kinda creepy.

* from Stargate Atlantis - the futuristic vampire race evolved from bugs

blogging

I have another blog now at myspace.com (you can search display name: aelthwyn) where I am sort of doing a random question a day thing. So if you feel like reading/answering random questions go check it out.

Hey la, hey la, my Laptop's Back!

Elation! Jubilance! Delight!
It finally arrived! -Of course the first thing I did was hug the box =)
It feels like forever since I have been able to sit with it on my lap. It works! no more psychedelic lines! no more freezing up at the slightest bump!
I'm sooo glad they didn't erase any of my files so I don't have to mess with putting everything back on. It's just as if it was never gone - only better because now it works. They also seem to have replaced the track pad, which I'm glad about because it did sometimes have problems. yay! I am so happy!

contemplations: time & existance

Well I'm not sure how much of this will make sense to someone else - that is I don't have great confidence in my ability to confer these thoughts through words, but I decided I'd just sort of throw them out there anyway.

Can you immagine nothing - really truely nothing? I can immagine empty space, but that is still something, it is space, it is some plain or realm of existance, even if it is not much. But can you immagine no existance? It defys comprehension. The concept of nothing is something. But actually nothing? No light. No dark. No substance of any kind. No thought. No time. How could there ever have been a time of nothingness? A ‘time’ before time began? It cannot even be called a time, if there was truely nothing. The best one can do is refer to a beginning. You can’t say ‘before’ the beginning, if there was no time.
If there was nothing, there must still be nothing. Nothing can never lead to something. It cannot be that there was nothing and then suddenly there was something. Nothing is nothing is nothing. Or else there is Something. We can perhaps immagine nothing in our realm of existance, but for there to be/have been no existance whatsoever not in any realm/plain/dimension/etc. -- impossible. Just try and wrap your mind around it. (at least it doesn't work for me).
If something exists now, there must always have been something. What was it? Is matter eternal? Is spirit? Something must be eternal, you cannot get around it.

You cannot even really say something began without a time when it wasn’t, which means that soemthing else - time- must at least be in existance for something to begin - therefore you cannot have something start out of nothingness. Truely nothingness is completely irrelevant and unconnected with somethingness. If there was something and there was no time before that something, then there could not have been a time when that something was not, and therefore that something must be eternal, it could not have begun.

We are so stuck in time it is very difficult, if not impossible, for us to comprehend anything outside that framework - that state of existance. But if you take away that attribute of progression, or of viewing a thing bit by bit in sequence, you have the whole thing, the real entire thing. You are your past present and future - that is the complete you. But you can only experience yourself bit by bit- moment by moment. You do not know all of yourself yet, because you have not yet seen and expeirenced your future. But if you could immagine taking time out of the equasion you would have just your whole self all at once in every seccond of your life - the full sum of you. Now immagine all of history without time. You have existance, the fullness of existance, with no beginning, with no end; just the whole full thing, complete. Without time something is something, and nothing is nothing. There is no switch between the two, no change from one to another - no beginning or end. Something either is, or isn’t.

living on the edge?

So apparently wearing skirts is dangerous, or so I've been told. It has been firmly suggested to me that my skirts are a 'safety issue' and I ought to wear pants to work. At said job I open and close and lock and unlock the back door, carry boxes across a distance of about 8 feet, unpack boxes, scan books, and sort books onto various carts, and, oh yes, I take out the trash. I would like to take this moment to point out a bit of logic which seems to be frequently overlooked by so-called practically minded people: For thousands of years men and women worked - hunted, built, cooked, farmed, fought, rode, climbed, ran; lived in skirts before the invention of trousers. Therefore it is really quite silly for people to believe that it is so impossible and dangerous (or so very impractical) to perform such tasks in skirts nowadays. Being most adamently myself I have, of course, continued to wear my long skirts to work. Perhaps I am flirting with disaster...but I highly doubt it.

lost & forlorne

My computer currently has two functions: writing surface and place-mat. It went psycho on me a few days ago - lots of random multi-colored psychedelic lines flashing across the screen and then completely non-responsive. Its a very odd sensation. Like having half one's brain gone. I wander aimlessly, unable to think what to do. I sit and stare at it and try to hold back the tears. Somehow, just having it there, even if I'm not doing something with it, makes things feel more complete, more together. I think the thing I miss most though is iTunes. I really don't know how to cope without my music. It is a refuge, a reminder of bright and beautifull things. It helps me relax, or gives me energy. I turn it on in the morning so I don't just fall back to sleep as soon as the alarm goes off. I tend to measure time in song-tracks. Having no sense of time myself, I can remember how long different songs are and thereby measure how much time I've spent, like in the shower; and I know which song on my 'morning music' playlist is the signal that I need to be getting out of here. I don't really have any other thing to play my music on right now, since my speakers are broken so I can't just plug my iPod in (and earphones often bugg me, and aren't practical for doing things like getting dressed with), and I have gotten so addicted to playlists it's hard for me to just listen to one CD all the way through. sigh.... I am also forced now to handwrite my thoughts and ideas and lists etc. but somehow I find it hard to think with a pen in hand anymore. In front of the screen my thoughts just flow right into the keys, but with a pen and my terrible handwriting (and these damned pens that don't work- I seem to have gotten a whole boxfull of duds, they look like they have ink, but it doesn't come out) my thoughs just sort of stop, and feel all choppy.
At least I can use Tracy's old computer, though it makes this annoying buzzing noise when it's on so I can't stand it for very long, and it doesn't have any of my stuff on it. Luckilly though, my computer's problem is supposed to be a defect covered by Apple, so I can send it in for free to have that fixed - that is a definate plus - but in the meantime I hope I can manage to pull myself together enough. Yes I suppose it is pretty pathetic that I feel this pathetic without it. sigh....

run run run, as fast as you can!

I made gingerbread men today, yum =) (well, actually I made circles instead of men) I love gingerbread sooo much! The dough is great too. I think maybe it's the molasses I really like, I don't know, but I find few sweets more satisfying. Aside from chocolate and custard I think gingerbread is the only other sweet I actually crave regularly.
Something I've discovered I like to do is make up dough and then just keep it in the fridge and make a few fresh cookies at a time in the toaster over, which takes less time than the regular one, rather than making them all up at once.
Unfortuneately I discovered that grape juice tastes wierd with molasses, so I can't have my favorite drink with my favorite cookie, but then milk always tastes best with cookies anyway. =)

yes, I am happy =)

absence makes the heart grow fonder

The love theme from the Dark Crystal is playing now and I am stirred with intense longing for space mountain. O Disneyland! will I ever enjoy you again?
the sad tender notes speak of doomed love, sigh...

. . . ?

why is my stove made by 'Fridgidaire'
and my fridge made by 'Hotpoint'?

Valentines

It's stupid. I mean what people make of it, that is. (I'm not one of those bitter valentines haters because I'm jealous of other people's happiness or anything) It just seems to me that people, or at least girls, place too much stock in this one day, this holiday. Girls get all depressed if they don't have a boyfriend for Valentines, and those that have one expect so much on this day and get upset if it's not the great romantic thing they've been immagining. Guys, it seems feel bound to spend money and do things, almost more out of fear of offending than actually wanting to do all that on that particular day. It seems so contrived to me (of course it isn't all like that, lots of people are gennuine, and it's more of a good excuse to do something they would have wanted to anyway). But you certainly shouldn't need to be told by the calendar to give someone you love gifts, and what if you just really don't feel like going out to diner or whatever that day? I mean, honnestly, how can one day be an indication of ones entire love-life? Why should my not giving you a card on this day mean more than all the times I tell you I love you and give you gifts and do little things you like throughout the year? It really seems pretty stupid to me. So it's a day to celebrate love, there's nothing wrong with that, but it's not the day itself which should be significant.
It's strange, even though I really value traditions and like holidays, somehow I also really view them as just another day. What is being celebrated is more important than the day on which you do that, in fact, if it's important enough to have a holiday, it's probably important enough to remember more than once a year. Why shouldn't getting together with family be as special in August as it is at Christmas? Why shouldn't we think about what we're thankfull for every day rather than just at Thanksgiving? Can every day be a holiday?

cullinary arts

I discovered the secret magical power of the toaster-oven. If you give it a piece of bread and then leave it to its own devices, when you come back it will have magically turned the pice of bread into a toast-shaped piece of charcoal with which you can then draw pictures on the kitchen counter =)

The toaster-oven is also very good for creating special effects like dense fog and smoke-veiled pub atmosphere - and its coils glow menacingly red in the dark while it makes a brooding sort of growl.

Pineapple Peach Pommegranit

I finally have Fruits Basket!
I really love this series. It is so cute, and sweet, and in parts sad, but the sadness doesn’t overwhelm the happiness. I think part of why I like it so much is that it says things that I’ve always thought, which are close to my heart. The heroine, Tohru, is always looking for the good things; she simply enjoys life, focusing more on the blessings and beautifull things rather than letting her troubles keep her from enjoying the good there is to be had. She believes that everyone has good qualities, and she cares so genuinely about everyone she meets. What she wants most is to understand others, and help them to see the good things about themselves and the world around them. She’s always encouraging and helping others.
I’m not as selfless as Tohru, but understanding others and accepting them for who they are has always been one of the most important things to me. Like Tohru, I grew up with a mom who loved me so much, and who encouraged me to just be myself. I want to give others that kind of wonderfull freedom she gave me, to be myself without fear of her ever not loving me because of something I did or said. You can’t love a person just because they act nice or they like the same things as you do, real love earnestly wants the best for someone, cares about them even when it doesn’t make sense, when you don’t understand, or even when they hurt you. Ex: when Kyo says things that hurt Tohru, instead of being mad at him she wants to know why he is really angry and wants the things that trouble him to be resolved. Whenever I sense that someone is hurting, or doesn’t like themself I long to comfort and encourage them. Like Tohru I am so honored when people trust me enough to let me get to know who they really are, it always makes me so happy.
I love the themes of hope and enjoying life in this story. I have always been an optimist. I always try to ‘home in’ on what is happy and beautifull. It really makes me mad when people try to say that life is nothing but pain, that ‘reality’ is depressing or boring or hopeless. Happiness and Beauty and Goodness are not merely illusions, they are real, just as real as any pain, and the more you focus on those things rather than on the sad things, the more they will be a real part of your life. Perhaps the thing that irks me, no actually outrages me, most is when people try to kill hope. They are just defeating themselves before they’ve even given themeselves a chance at happiness, and they have no right to try to kill what hope there is in others just because they can’t see it because they’ve closed their eyes.
So anyway... that’s why Fruit’s Basket is dear to me (aside from just loving all the characters). I’m glad to know someone else has the chance to say those things to a lot of other people too.

The year of the Digital Camera

Yes that's right, there is a new member of the chinese zodiac, the digital camera! Can't you just see it now, 'I wish we could get a picture of this.' 'quick give me a hug' Poof! well that would be one way of never having to be in the picture. Although it could be really bad if they got tired and transformed on the street and then got stolen and stuffed in someone's bag, 'cause once they re-transformed.... (this only makes sense if you've seen Fruits Basket)
Anyway, about half the people I know recieved one for Christmas this year - I forsee many more photoshoots and colorfull blog posts this year.