Log in

No account? Create an account
Thursday Shorts - It seemed like a good idea at the time... [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

Thursday Shorts [Mar. 15th, 2012|11:11 pm]
Like on top of everything else, I needed work to decide to block access to LJ today (apparently half the staff is streaming some basketball thing, so they upped the security level. Thanks, sports fanatics.)

Small things that make me happy: Boxwood top wine corks! My friends are clearly better at pursuing my obsessions better than I am, thank you Geva! Plus, Fetch sends me a text that says “found two praying mantis egg cases in the garden and thought of you.” Because associating me with cannibalistic predatory insects where the female is twice the size of the male and usually snacks on him after sex….well, that’s how my good friends demonstrate how much they understand and love me.

Dear cats: I put those clothes in the drawer for a reason. I’m pretty sure the reason was NOT so that you could fish them out one by one and drag them across the floor, leaving them in random, assorted heaps, so that you could then play “Defend the Drawer” with each other.

When did Grand Marnier become the new Jaegermeister? I feel like just yesterday it was either Tequila or Jaeger shots…and then I got put in the pod, came out and it’s Grand Marnier. Grand Marnier? Can you GET any more old lady? (Okay, sherry. There’s always sherry. Or Madeira. Shudder. ) If that’s where you’re going to go, at least upscale to Cointreau. Grand Marnier is for cooking. Pouring over food and setting it alight. Although, admittedly, if I had to do a shot to save our lives and had to pick between the two, I’d go for the Grand Marnier. But then you’d OWE me. Bigtime.

Dear cats: What’s with the 2am vomit alarm? I don’t remember setting that one. Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you could hurka gurka splat downstairs? On the vinyl flooring where it’s easy to clean up? Or even on the bedroom carpet. But MOTHER OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, quit puking on my BED. While I’m IN IT.

There’s been a lot of whining about the time change. I will allow that perhaps it’s Facebook’s Fault. Facebook: Your WHINE consolidator. But seriously, you know it’s coming. Prepare for it. Set your alarm five minutes earlier each day, on that weekend, take the change 30 minutes on Saturday, 30 minutes on Sunday. Ease into it, if you need to. Or, you could just work yourself into exhaustion, wake up at ridiculous hours in a vain attempt to get everything done, pass out at 9pm, because at a certain point the candle runs out of wick, and whatever, you have no clue what time it is anyway, so there’s no real shock. In any case – if the prize is an extra hour of daylight to putter in the yard, garden or sipping wine and reading a book on the deck, having to leave the house while it’s still dark for a couple of extra weeks is NO problem.

Which does mean, of course, that this is weeding season. And I just can’t DO it with gloves on. (Weeding. Stop that.) You need all the tactile you can get to sense that moment when the wild onion starts to give loose and now you know which direction in which to yank it. So, instead, I have to wear gloves to put hose on, and apologies to anyone whose bare skin I touch over the next couple of months. Yes, I KNOW, it’s like being caressed by a shark.

Dear cats: If you’d pause just a moment and THINK about it, you’d realize that the sound from the window is muffled and there’s no actual breeze or scent wafting in from the open window. Which means it’s CLOSED. Or, you can keep jumping up and smacking into the glass; hell, I’m easily amused.

Having caught up with what’s been disc-released for True Blood and Walking Dead, I’ve started Boardwalk Empire. Four episodes in and I’m struggling a wee bit. Oh, it’s good, but not nearly as compelling as the last two. Although I’ll be the first to admit, human beings behaving like monsters is not nearly as interesting to me as actual monsters. So no monsters and….the clothes are ugly, it’s all so sepia-y and depressing, there sure isn’t any eye candy. Good actors, but….meh. I thought, okay, you adored Deadwood – aah, some pretty men, horses and leather. Rome, pretty, pretty, pretty, in a sweaty kind of way. And Carnevale – ugly clothes, sepia tones….but there was enough weirdness to keep me hooked. Gangsters just don’t do it for me. I’ll keep going, because I am enjoying it, just not to the same degree as others in this class. Okay, I may also be carrying a higher degree than usual of “you should be doing something for Virginia Faire or doing housework or anything but wasting an hour watching television” guilt. And my brain is having no part of “can’t I sit down for an hour to eat dinner and chill?” Sometimes it sucks to be a New England WASP. We don’t need our parents, or relatives, or clergy to make us feel guilty…it’s in our GENES.

[User Picture]From: fountaingirl
2012-03-16 03:26 am (UTC)
Your cats amuse me. I likely find the barf thing funnier than you do.

You should check out BBC Sherlock, it is really good, and also Downton Abbey.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: terribleturnip
2012-03-16 03:51 pm (UTC)
Oh, do not even get me started on my crush on Benedict Cumberbatch. (Although I suspect that if his name were "Mike Smith" I wouldn't have fallen so hard) and Yes, Downton, although I liked season one better than two...but I'd watch it just for Maggie Smith.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: sestree
2012-03-16 08:12 am (UTC)
Grand Marinier - dump in Blue Moon or Southhampton Doublewhite or I've heard it's good in shocktop.

I like it in my blue moon though :)
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: im_geva
2012-03-16 01:03 pm (UTC)

You are welcome!

(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: russell_moore
2012-03-16 03:35 pm (UTC)
Grand Marnier is for cooking. Pouring over food and setting it alight.

it is a simply perfect dessert liqueur

a fresh made waffle, a nice big glop of good vanilla ice cream, and a generous pour of Grand Manier ... so good it'll make your toes tingle
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: chellebelle74
2012-03-16 03:51 pm (UTC)
Oh I am so with you on the cat barf in bed thing. It's how my boy woke me up on Tuesday, just slightly before 5 am. Not only was he in the bed with us, he was also curled up on *me* so without my adrenaline induced "ACK!!" and frantic shooing, I would have started the day covered in cat puke. It was like Monday v2.0 squashed into 60 seconds.

And those March Madness fanatics.... Yeah, they get under my skin. Last year about this time I was working at a Federal facility and I'd been told my contract was up at the end of the month and I had permission to job hunt on the clock as long as my work got done. But it was really hard to job hunt with all the people streaming March Madness clogging up the intarwebs. Really, people?? I'm trying to find a new job so I can still pay my mortgage and buy groceries, at most you're trying to see if you won an illegal bet (and you're supposed to be working anyway). Stop streaming that #$%^&!!! And this was with repeated facility wide warnings from IT that anyone caught streaming the games would be reprimanded.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: ferlonda
2012-03-18 08:04 am (UTC)
Frank the Cat used to load up on crunchies downstairs in the kitchen, then gallop upstairs, hurtle down the hall and LEAP onto our bed so he could hurk on us- just out of arms reach so we couldn't push him to the floor. He also once spewed in a particularly amusing manner. He was sleeping with my sister (she used to be a housemate) and he heard dadgaderie getting up to make coffee (this was the morning) and Frank scurried to the bedroom door and peeked out very carefully to watch the stairs. My sister hear dadgaderie meander to the stairs and start down as usual- then curse and stumble and curse again and then come down the stairs normally but still cursing. Turned out Frank the Cat had hurked up a LOT of crunchies, neatly over three stairs and in three different spots so that there was practically no chance anyone using the stairs would miss stepping in hurk. Dadgaderie, however, is a clever man even when he's half asleep. My sister said she could practically see Frank the Cat snap his fingers in disappointment at the epic FAIL of his trap.

Golly... I miss that cat...
(Reply) (Thread)