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I am never having children.
Jul. 21st, 2003 08:40 pmMy G-d. It's worse than running a costume shop. At least with a shop, you get lunch. With Kahlua, I only get a break when she's conked out, and usually only then when I crate her. At which point, of course, she sits and looks at me with infinite canine indignation, counting the minutes until she can get at the cats again.
Interesting weekend, to err on the side of mildness. I discovered a multitude of things.
The word "boyfriend" takes a very, very long time to get used to.
When one's significant other chooses to mix spicy marinades with his hands, make VERY sure he washes said hands EXTREMELY WELL before switching to other activities. EXTREMELY well.
Going to parties where I doubt I'll know anyone is, on occasion, good for the soul.
It is even better when you discover new friends at these parties.
It is better yet when you discover old friends you've not seen in a long while.
There is, indeed, a measure of peace in facing situations you'd avoided a long while, and realising they're not worth your energy to stress over any more.
If you think you might be disturbing the neighbours, you probably are.
Nothing moves a casual political conversation on the front stoop along faster than, "Look at the size of that roach!"
Puppies do not have off-switches, but a sudden spell in the crate is sometimes a good jury-rig.
Apparently, John Yee at Reading Terminal Market sells sushi-quality fish. I will be happy to eat more of his fish and live longer.
Next party, I'm wearing pink. Or yellow. Or green. Or polka dots. Black is really the old black.
Fabric scraps, shoelaces, benches, and pins really must taste very good. So must costume books. Much like a good london broil, the rarer and more expensive, the yummier.
A day is hard-pressed to be bad when it begins with a very tasty breakfast in bed.
If you think a fabric might not be a good idea for a corset, guess what? Your clients will tell you you're right after you've worked your posterior off to make it just right. If those clients remain your friends after said debacle, replace the corset and thank them copiously.
Liberal application of libations may make certain people say salacious things, but it also puts them to sleep fairly quickly. Alas.
It is never a good idea to make fun-- however gently-- of someone to whom you have given a key to your place of dwelling. Unless you can reliably verify said person does not have access to small arms, power tools, or emotionally unbalanced ferrets.
I believe this probably says a lot about the state of my life recently, as well. About the only thing I HAVEN'T done lately is go back to archery, for which I am VERY sorry. I was just saying to Kyle I need to go back-- as does he, he hasn't even collected the expensive arrows for which he paid months ago. And I'm dying to see The Blond with a bow and arrow in his hands again-- it was a fairly sexy sight, to give credit where it's due.
But I hear steel bones calling me, the gentle susurration of their white-enameled ribs rubbing languidly against one another. And since I've tripped the puppy's off-switch, now is, essentially, the time.
Avaunt!
Interesting weekend, to err on the side of mildness. I discovered a multitude of things.
The word "boyfriend" takes a very, very long time to get used to.
When one's significant other chooses to mix spicy marinades with his hands, make VERY sure he washes said hands EXTREMELY WELL before switching to other activities. EXTREMELY well.
Going to parties where I doubt I'll know anyone is, on occasion, good for the soul.
It is even better when you discover new friends at these parties.
It is better yet when you discover old friends you've not seen in a long while.
There is, indeed, a measure of peace in facing situations you'd avoided a long while, and realising they're not worth your energy to stress over any more.
If you think you might be disturbing the neighbours, you probably are.
Nothing moves a casual political conversation on the front stoop along faster than, "Look at the size of that roach!"
Puppies do not have off-switches, but a sudden spell in the crate is sometimes a good jury-rig.
Apparently, John Yee at Reading Terminal Market sells sushi-quality fish. I will be happy to eat more of his fish and live longer.
Next party, I'm wearing pink. Or yellow. Or green. Or polka dots. Black is really the old black.
Fabric scraps, shoelaces, benches, and pins really must taste very good. So must costume books. Much like a good london broil, the rarer and more expensive, the yummier.
A day is hard-pressed to be bad when it begins with a very tasty breakfast in bed.
If you think a fabric might not be a good idea for a corset, guess what? Your clients will tell you you're right after you've worked your posterior off to make it just right. If those clients remain your friends after said debacle, replace the corset and thank them copiously.
Liberal application of libations may make certain people say salacious things, but it also puts them to sleep fairly quickly. Alas.
It is never a good idea to make fun-- however gently-- of someone to whom you have given a key to your place of dwelling. Unless you can reliably verify said person does not have access to small arms, power tools, or emotionally unbalanced ferrets.
I believe this probably says a lot about the state of my life recently, as well. About the only thing I HAVEN'T done lately is go back to archery, for which I am VERY sorry. I was just saying to Kyle I need to go back-- as does he, he hasn't even collected the expensive arrows for which he paid months ago. And I'm dying to see The Blond with a bow and arrow in his hands again-- it was a fairly sexy sight, to give credit where it's due.
But I hear steel bones calling me, the gentle susurration of their white-enameled ribs rubbing languidly against one another. And since I've tripped the puppy's off-switch, now is, essentially, the time.
Avaunt!