September 9, 2004

Glory, glory hallelujah, I feel good today!  Absolutely the only fly in my ointment is that I swallowed the little foil circle that holds my Remifemin in the package.  You pop out your pill, through the foil, leaving the little foil tap hanging onto the package and the pill in your hand.  This time, the little foil dot got froggy and came off with the pill, which I tossed into my mouth and washed down without realizing there was cargo.  >:<  So now the little evil thing is stuck in the back of my throat and won't let go.  It's like it's grabbing a flower stem, hanging off the edge of the cliff, refusing to accept its fate (or cough up).  I should have flashy poops some day soon.

I swear, there is heroin in Remifemin.  I forgot to take it over the weekend (I'm so terrible with pills) and felt like dog mess for Tuesday and Wednesday.  After taking it for two days, I'm back on top of the world.  It's freaky, other worldly, bizarre how good I feel.  I woke up this morning with a sense of today being a very special day and even if nothing in particular happens, it was special because of how good I feel.

Not so yesterday! I took the bicycle out for the first time, scaling the mile to the post office to pick up some packages that were too big for my box (according to the mail ladies... I mean really, how do they know what will fit in my box, although the sentiment is appreciated, the trip to the post office is not).  As it turned out, I got two of my birthday presents, one from Joe and Sandra and one from me.  The one from me was a good collection of essential oils for making aromatherapy oil blends and incenses. They come in little plastic cones that hold about a half teaspoon (I ordered doubles of the collection of 33) and Eric is going to drill out a round tree slice with 66 of the right size holes to slip the little vials into.  :)  Also, I got a fantastic set of little pig candle holders from Joe and Sandra, Goddess bless'em.  Georgia had already hooked me up with faboo gifts.  I got a black pig lighter that shoots the flame out of its nostrils (2 flames!).  I also got a bitching red pig votive holder (ceramic) with a tiny unicorn horn on him.  He's most diabolical looking (making him all the more desirable).  Also, she sent a set of weenie dog salt and pepper shakers and the salt and pepper dispense from their butts.  She knows me so well.  Eric got me an aquarium and with the $50 gift card from another friend, I was able to fill up its insides with lots of little geegaws from Walmart.  Eric brought home the fish last night and they are all doing well, settling nicely into their new home.  The kids are mesmerized by them and have named them all (there are about 17).  Everything from Cheeto (a bright orange sword tail), Surfer Dan and Flounder (who is a male guppy and looks nothing like Flounder) to Chester, the plecostomus.  The tank turned out really pretty.  I'd take pictures of all this stuff, but my camera is flaking.






















FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKK!

 Anyway, back to the bike ride.  I can tell you that "it's just like riding a bike" is a bunch of crap unless we're describing a situation where you almost die and look like an idiot.  I have not ridden in bicycle since 1981, which is what, 23 years? I figured (given the literary reference) I'd hop on and take off.  It's a simple 5 speed bike.  I hopped on and practically wrecked right away.  I was careful to get a bike that wasn't too tall and that I could easily mount without having to jump and teeter.  Soon, I was sailing down the little hill that our house is on, barely in control and not in a "wheeeee!" way.  By the time I came to the next hill, I was panting like mad.  Needless to say, I almost had a stroke, heart attack and/or other cardiac/neurological event(s).  I didn't think I was going to make it home.  I swear, this place is like Magic Mountain.  What's magic about Magic Mountain is that it's a geographical oddity.  No matter where you go, it's uphill.  Sure, there were some cruising places, but dag, yo.  I was huffing and puffing and dying.  On the way home, because the boxes were giant and were in a huge, cotton Santa bag I brought, they were beating against me and the bike tire and that didn't help matters either.  By the time I got home a miserable 25 minutes later (the post office is a mile from our house), I gave the bike to Delena and told her I didn't want to see it forever or another 80 pounds, whichever comes first.  I don't want to ever ride it anywhere unless I can be guaranteed the entire trip will be downhill (wheeeee!).

Spike TV has done the unthinkable and removed all Star Trek The Next Generation and Star Trek Deep Space Nine episodes from its viewing schedule.  What are they thinking?  Spike TV was BUILT on Star Trek, WWF and James Bond movies.  Fascist bastards.  Now I have a giant, gaping hole in my TV schedule from 10-12 (noon).  I have been filling it with music, mostly because I'm too bitter to look for something else.  I'm sick of Adoption Stories on Discovery Health.  The people all seem pretentious and rich and far from my world. 

During my two hour musical extravaganza, I have determined that no one rocks like Alice Cooper.  If you don't believe it, plug into a little "Wake Me Gently," "Is It My Body" and "No More Mr Nice Guy."  "Beth" by Kiss and "Fire" by Bruce Springsteen are also recent playees.  "Maybe Your Baby's Got the Blues" by the Judds, "Tips of My Fingers" by Steve Warner, "Every Light in the House Is On" by Trace Atkins and "Long Black Veil" by Lefty Frizzell made the cut today. 

Holy shit.

Further detective work reveals that Deep Space Nine (the only one I was really into) returns on Monday.  Life is good.  See?  I knew it was a good day.  Tra La.

Nine PM on Sundays, "The Dead Zone" is going to air on USA.  Reruns, no doubt, but reruns of "The Dead Zone" are better than first runs of most shows.  I don't watch much prime time at all.  Dead Zone and Scrubs is about it.  I got tired of Judging Amy (I was Judging Amy a little too much and she was getting on my nerves, even though I still adore Maxine). 

I've been busy with book reviews lately.  I've done 28 in the past week (29 if you count the one I had to do twice because I dumped the file) and have 42 more books and 12 more Tarot decks to go.  I hope to be done in the next 2 weeks.  The Big Rock Laundry Mountain still waits to be folded while the nob of dirty laundry grows steadily.  Maybe I can skip this cycle completely and just use from the mountain until they are all gone.  Like Ferris, "How can I be expected to fold clothes on a day like this?"  Well, sort of.

It must be the coming new moon getting to me.

Wow!  Where did the day go!  It's 1pm and Nathan will be home from school in 10 minutes!  It seems like I just kissed him goodbye. 

Guess I should clean and get back to book reviews!!

I leave you with stuff that would otherwise be vulgar:

Love,
Katrina