looks like i'm going to be prescreening for the film fest

w00t

we sure stood and talked for a while. then i did yard work and washed a coupla windows and the back of the sliding glass door. it's the last compost pickup this week, bert tells me.

i didn't clean up all spic-and-span for this visit. thought i'd let her see more or less what i live like, with less laundry about and a clearer kitchen counter than is often the case. we walked the fences and talked about them and strategies there and the various bramble. she also had a great suggestion for where i move the cats' food---i'd been having a hard time coming up with a good solution there.

the woman i already know is gonna inspect me for another dog rescue group in a coupla days.

and then i may just hunker down for the winter and think dog again in the spring. maybe. or just up & come home with one. but the crate, maybe that, at least, oughta go back to the store this week.

i'm not giving good blog tonight. i know. sorry. have barely eaten---i'll blame that. and then go eat something.

and straighten up a little. A dog rescue woman is coming by to perform a "home visit." This despite my increasing hunch that I'll put off any dog adoption for the near future. Unless, as Tracy suggests is the way it will happen, the dog comes to me.

I do have a loose interpretation of how the dog could come to me. As in it wouldn't have to traipse up to the stoop and ring my doorbell.

Which is good, cuz I don't have a doorbell.

Bowling last night. The full team, all at once---first time this season, I believe---and McG's new gf, and her friend. One league member had a seizure half way through the proceedings.

Man, I just turned down an invite for brunch. Cuz even though this home visit will probably not end up being relevant to my future pet situation, I really need to use it as an excuse to get dressed, and straighten up, and work on the disaster the kitchen has become, and cut up the rest of my branches, and maybe trim the hedge stickee-uppies & do a storm window or two. It's supposed to be mild out there, though, in here, my feet are sure cold.

Oh, and probably gather up & take the bigger-ticket doggie items back to the stores, since my thirty days will be up soon.

Okay here we go Lisa. Let's do it.

 






 

[the title, not preserved, had made reference to the Leonids]

I doubt I'll go out & look up before bed, and I'm even less likely to rise & go out at 4. But I watched tonight's "Big Bang Theory," in which characters are camping out to watch them---nice nerd timing, the episode---and other characters are at the ER, where one refers to a patient ahead in triage as claiming to be having a heart attack but not being too impaired to be playing Doodle Jump on his iPhone. At which point I took the product placement bait & paid 99 cents for the app, only the second I've bought (the first

Driving home without him now.

can you believe the oughts are almost over? wasn't all that long ago i was guessing what we'd be calling them. now it will soon be "twenty ten." it follows that we'll go through the teens that way, and any of us left in the 2020s will likely keep that way of counting them going.

my bags are packed, i'm ready to go. mostly. and entirely not.

happy friday the 13th ya'll.

 
A beautiful Sunday. When? That time of year, dear ones.






I did virtually nothing on the imaginary list today. Instead: some sitting around, recovering from a late night of karaoke after bowling (easily the funnest karaoke I've been to, and some of the best bowling too), and then lots of yard.

Small run-in with neighbor, growing out of my persistent failure to (a) take her ostensibly helpful suggestion; (b) be swayed by her multiple rhetorical points to explain its advantages as I continued to say "No" oh so politely; or (c) accept her offers of help in doing the work she suggested, as I, yes, continued to say "No," eventually a few shades less politely. The encounter later involved my blowing off her bringing city literature over and pointing at the part she was reading to me as she did so, numerous other bits of tedium I spare you here, and my refraining from telling her of the suggestion for living whose wisdom is more often contemplated in its figurative meaning---the one about taking care of your own side of the street.


So, speaking of loving that well that thou must leave 'ere long, my moments with the kitties, Frito & Fredo Fess, have had an in-the-moment pleasure these past many days, as I anticipate messing up our good thing. They've been a little skittish at times, still lingering I think from my two trips away this fall, and the recent vet visits. They've also been more physically affectionate, as they get when the weather turns chillier. And they've been more like each other's buds. Just the way they are in a room together. Coming to get hello pets and bellyrubs from me at the same time, a little more lying around with parts of them touching each other, etc. homovegetarian's Kitty Wells died after a sudden illness yesterday. I still call Humph "Junior Wells" sometimes, as he came along shortly after Wells did.

Thank you, Universe, for the weekend, and for me being pretty much over the cold in time for it. And thank you, Mysterious Powers That Be, for the hunks of happiness today. So good to feel such a thing, whatever it is.

Now I'll close with paperkingdoms's questions. If you'd like me to ask you five questions to answer in your blog, comment to that effect & I'll gladly pony up. My replies ( here. )

 
One of the more enjoyable ruminations.



also-rans
Walter
Fletcher
Guilford
Topeka
Malcolm
Kirby
Puckett
Puck
Robin-Goodfellow
Fella
Raoul
Burl
Curtis
Pace (the "peace" way)
Edmund
Edgar
Miró
Larry
Smitty
Fortinbras
Elrod


high placers
Wally
Nicky
Harvey
Preston
Duncan
JoJo


the short list

( behind the cut, for a little drumroll quality )


I'll be letting more people/characters and words wash over me this week, too, no doubt. Suggestions welcome.


- + o + -

Now outside, into one of the last, if not the very last, gorgeous, temperate, wonderful autumn days.

"Hi Lisa,

Your Google Maps problem report has been reviewed, and you were right! We'll update the map within a month and email you when you can see the change."

:)

Hey, I got into Ignite Ann Arbor 2, on stand-by. Psyched.

The business school has tremendously swanky digs. This may be the best auditorium seat I've ever sat in.

I see going to grab that link that the talks will be streamed. Tune in if it's Friday eve as you're reading, and you'd like to hear some 5-minute talks with 20 slides that automatically advance every 15 minutes seconds. Tonight's program ( behind the jump. )

We're opening with an audience-wide single-elimination rock-paper-scissors tournament. I lasted 3 rounds.

"Two is the magic number in literature. Three is the magic number is religion, and eleven is the magic number in football." -- Bob Day

Bob Day was our cowboy writing teacher back in Chestertown. He very probably hadn't read Barbara Walker, or maybe he'd have said something about 13, too.

We have a Friday the 13th coming up in a week. How will you be celebrating the Goddess's lucky day and lucky number?

I'm slowly coming to, and I'm slowing coming to the day. Either way it works.

If I get the pup, of course, the luxurious laziness will be gone for a long time. But I do without it most days of my life, and I ain't married to it.

Last night I went to the queer chorus's fundraiser Halloween dance party at the Zal Gaz Grotto. Getting inside that building, after driving by it hundreds of times, I found it disappointingly ordinary, compared to what I was imagining in the little lodge hall (exposed stone, altar-type spaces/constructions, ritual sacrifice equipment, etc.). But it was a decent place to throw a party, with a bar in a second room. A couple of jovial pirates were making it a party wherever they went. They even got a smile, eventually, out of the house bartender. And the one regular Grotto guy at the bar, an older fellow, sat calmly all night through various displays of queerness and conversational references to sexual practices outside the vanilla.

Many in the crowd had gone all-out with the costumes, doing the subculture proud, I'd say. It's our holiday, you know. Us and kids. I went as Less Than Top Chef. The one item I bought for the outfit was the haphazard hair net. Alas, finer details of the artfully placed stains on my chef's jacket were lost in the low lighting.

It's quite possible, I acknowledge, that one costume may have been designed at least partially as a nose-thumbing toward yours truly. Sounds paranoid, no? Well the theory did have to be suggested to me, though I'd immediately seen the connection to a less-than-glorious dating moment in my sorta recent past. But whatcha gonna do. I cop to the insensitivity of my faux pas, and have copped to it to her.

In general at the gathering, as far as I saw, the lesbian drama was sprinkled lightly, seasoning the event with an authentic taste true to the cuisine but not overwhelming to the palate, thereby not ruining the overall balance of flavors on the plate. Then afterwards bigfinedaddy and I hung out at the IHOP until we were both barely able to keep our eyes open.

Now I leave you with some former Zal Galz for your Sunday (or whenever) pleasure:

As I parked at the vet's just now, with both felines in the car, I turned off the engine & looked up to see, reflected in the door in front of me, the car we sat in, with flames coming up from under the hood. 6-, 8-inch flames, plain as day, FIRE. After the briefest of internal-cognition doubletakes (maybe partly cuz I didn't hear or otherwise sense it) & then an "Oh my god" I'm pretty sure was aloud, I thought ever so fleetingly of a fire extinguisher & then something roughly like "Oh shit I've got to get two other living creatures out fast too," and I leapt from the car as I very rarely leap.

Running around to the other side I looked back at the hood and saw no fire. I looked again. No fire. But then fire in image in door. But no fire under hood. But fire in image--- oh -- oh--- the image. It's an image. It's a reflection? There's maybe a Halloween decoration with fire? No, it's a fire in the gas fireplace of the waiting room, lined up just "right" at the location of the crack between the hood and the passenger side of the windshield. It is not a fire even in the reflection; it's behind the reflection.

Now *that* was scary.

I wasn't petrified. I just moved to deal best I could, knowing through-and-through, with my whole body, that the odds of a most undesirable outcome were great. But brothers and sisters, that was a scare. I'm still adjusting to the reality that that danger was a phantom.

I spent a little of yesterday cruising petfinder. Blame Bessie & Lacey & Ronnie & Ralph & Jordy. Was talking to Bert last night about introducing a puppy, vs. a grown dog, to cats. Was also saying how I feel I'd have to make the lifestyle change decision all over again, even though that's not what went wrong last time I nearly became a dog girl.

There are some aspects of the current household arrangement that are definitely just lovely as they are, and would be disrupted by a pup, most verily. And I totally don't need to be told, by however many "getting a puppy?" sites, what a committment it is. Yet I couldn't help it, I went so far as to write to ask about the dog below, and his sister (I like the idea of a girl dog, and she's adorable too), who are up for adoption, and am more sad than relieved that I haven't heard back yet, that he (or she) may not be an option.



Yeah, he's missing an ear.

Funny I'm thinking about it when I'm barely back from my automobilic travels. Haven't even caught up on the email.

But also funny---and so uncomfortable, for me---how hard it is to envision, assess, the realistic desirability of such a move. When I know I'm overwhelmed by the swamping of considerations, why isn't that enough? What is the next step in easily pondering choices, however big? Why is it so hard to know what I want, and would knowing why make any difference?

I'm at a rest stop on the Ohio Turnpike, which I picked up at Strongsville. The zig-zagging will save me a few smackers---tolls have gone up. It's 10 bucks now from Toledo to the PA border.

Earlier today I was at another stretch of the Ohio River north of Wheeling. Third time I've gone moseying down along there. Follansbee had its appeal, but I'm glad I didn't croak there. Had a scary moment of numbness on one side of my face while on WVa Rte 2 in that town. Pulled over and tried to breathe while figuring out whether it was anything, reassuring myself that the semi-symmetrical (if mirthless) smile I had no trouble grimacing was a good sign.


This trip has featured countless Halloween displays and decorations, most of them at residences. Time was, back in the postcard heyday, Halloween wasn't all that, holiday-wise-speaking. That's why postcards relating to All Hallows' Eve are so valuable; they're scarce. It's been fun seeing what people have done with their houses, porches, yards. Has me thinking I might acquire one new Halloween thing every year, starting perhaps with a really big inflatable plastic jack o'lantern.

Here's one Halloween house I took a picture of. It's in one of my old neighborhoods in Baltimore:

I'm propped up on motel pillows watching Cash Cab. Any of you watch Cash Cab? I like Cash Cab. Except for when Ben, in the moment before the "You're in the Cash Cab" reveal, sometimes does his mumbly impression of a Middle Eastern or Indian accent, for the set-up to the little ha ha, faked 'em out. (Okay I don't hate when he does Italian New York guy or Brooklyn or Jersey boxer type voice.) But there's something queer about Ben's overall demeanor that I enjoy observing. Queer different. Queer "a little off." And then there are the folks who get in the cab.

During the commercials I've flipped channels and been reminded that the weather looks great for the last leg of my drive, once I finally get showered & going. It'll be raining at the end, but I'll have some 65 Farenheit and sunny before that.

I have time to take little roads and routes I've not rolled over dozens of times, and stop a bit when I want. That's cuz yesterday I didn't drive all the way home but lollygagged and pissed around, playing with Jordy the Jack Russell, visiting more than one antique mall & a farm market, and stopping to nap whenever I got fadey.

Should I have bought this?



I almost bought that.

Ooh, Cash Cab After Dark! Even better.

didn't come home after work (and work) to do trip prep stuff. went to a screening of film fest entries instead. a small triumph of playing it by ear, in a space in which i can get a little one-track-mind (while also, often, stagnant).

trubba not, the boss lady sez.

i got me a bedspread like kohkae & gf's. and it's no longer manufactured. it arrived today.

it's luxuriously soft.

laundry tomorrow, and various other to-dos, and a few hours at the office.

i'm not dreading being back on the road at all.

My phone (device) (I predict we won't call them phones a *whole* lot longer) likes to help me with apostophes & punctuation, as well as spelling. This is all very well and good, though its automatic "it's"es are going to slip by me now & then, I just know. But it also, unlike the rest of the world after HTML, seems to know the convention (I still like) of 2 spaces after an end stop. Thus if I go ahead & emoticon, and then hit two spaces, it puts a period in for me after the last emoti-character. It's tedious to clean it up. So I'm giving in. If I text you, prepare for my emoti-faces to have drooled a drop, or have a beauty mark on their chins.

I'd wager an upgrade for customizing auto-type options is low on Steve & Co.'s list.

Neighbor cat is almost done eating must-be-separate supper. I'm done with work, both day job & freelance, for today, too. Even ran an errand in there, which is good, cuz I have a handful of those to get to before my 2nd road trip of this fall. So in a minute I'll wheel my trash can back up my drive, go in & feed my kitties, and & have supper myself.

The leisurely evening at home is short, on nights like these. Makes it really hard to get to bed at a good time for getting rest. And I get up early again for these kitties tomorrow morn.

It's important to sleep. There are flu germs about.

Life lately has been living and letting live.

Okay, Lacey--- you full? Okay.

coming back from a long break today, i parked in the MR parking lot, next to squirrelykat, whose car, i saw, has a new antenna ball: a snowman sort of ping-pong ball, with a scarf wrapped around it. even though it looked new, and i didn't remember seeing it before, my first thought was "that's cute, jewels, but winter's almost over... he's gonna get hot in that scarf."

lost in time, lost in space.

 
My black maple, in a previous autumn:



I'm enjoying coming home to the driveway of big bright leaves.

I've got my dawgs & peanuts. Might break out a Throwback Pepsi from my stash.

Here we go---first pitch.

Noticed today that my house has disappeared from Google Maps. Was relieved to get home & find it's still here.

Two up, two down, and here's Magglio, with his short hair. I'm glad he's been hitting, but I liked the hair.

He gave it a ride, but it was a long fly out.

Now our kid pitcher is coming out. The "baby-faced right hander," Rick Porcello.

i first noticed it in the hospital when i was a teenager.


i am not content being miserable.  i think this is a true statement.  i am touching base with it in my mind, off and on, since i heard the idea of the opposite mentioned tonight.  as a concept, not particularly about me.


road trip coming up.  the forces of planning and control vs. spontaneity and chance battle it out in me.  there's gonna be some of the former, just cuz there's gonna.  there's almost gotta.  somehow i keep getting the itch to go whole-hog with it though.  an instinct tells me it's bogus, but the pull is strong.

one thing i'm considering is coming back the way i went.  this'd be a first, for sure.  i had a loop through the mountains in colorado in mind as my nod toward not just going there and back.  but it can be so slow, a few hundred miles under those circumstances.  and it'd be adding some extra hundreds of miles. that's $$.

oh for the days i could pretend the $$ didn't matter so much.

oh for the days i was unaware of my self-sabotage.

well, not oh for either, really.  not oh for them.  oh for some ahead more free of fretting.  oh for relax & enjoy.