Lost: Sleep. Please return if found

I have been having trouble sleeping lately. Part of me hopes that it is just a result of stress, but the more rational part of me knows this is another bout of insomnia starting. I cringe to think of how long it will last this time around. Sometimes it is a few days or weeks, sometimes it is much much longer.

One of the hardest parts of insomnia is becoming accustomed to the exhaustion again. It is strange to think that I can be functional while not sleeping at night. Reason dictates that this is not actually possible. Reason I have discovered has very little to do with reality.

Every time I talk about being a functional insomniac I think in my head that it sounds like I am comparing myself to a functional alcoholic. In some ways I think that might be an accurate comparison. I mean it is an unfortunate and potentially dangerous condition on both sides of the coin. Also being exhausted can feel like being mildly drunk, so I think the analogy stand. Then again that could be the lack of sleep talking.

The first week or so is always the hardest. While my body can sort of kick into automatic and drag me through the day, my mind is not quite as willing and able. My reaction times are slower and trying to do any sort of advanced thinking is sort of out of the question. Using my memory is also an issue, I can hardly recall anything without a good amount of effort.

I know though that in a week or so, while I will be exhausted still, my brain will be compensating for the lack of sleep. Soon the only way you will know I am not sleeping is the ever growing dark circles under my eyes. I suppose this means I should go buy new concealer.

In the meantime I am going to sit and stare blankly into space or engage in activities that don't really require much thought on my behalf, like my daily work. So if I seem a little slow to respond, or say anything that doesn't particularly make sense, or seem a little short with you, remember it is not your fault. It is in fact the fault of that damned dirty lazy ass sandman for skipping me on his nightly route again. Bastard!

I will never fall in love again

What is it about romantic movies and love stories that is so incredibly likeable? Why is it that I can't just stop watching those really cheesy romantic comedies? Why do I let myself get all gushy when I watch (voluntarily) a Nicholas Sparks movie? Why the hell did I even watch it in the first place? I mean there has to be better things out there to watch and to read than stories that center around love.

Hell it is hard to find anything that doesn't have at least some element of a love story involved. It doesn't have to be based on a Nicholas Sparks book or star some doe eyed blonde opposite some young guy with unrealistic abs to be a romance. I mean even the Transporter movies have an element of romance in them, and really those movies are just about Jason Statham beating people up, which I would be totally cool with that being the extent of the movie. Yet there is that romantic element lingering in the back ground.

Why is that? Why can't we have a story that is just devoid of romance? I am sure the stories are out there, but they are pretty few and far between. From what I can tell, no one seems to care. That vaguest element of romance lingering in the background seems to be part of a good story.

I have to admit that even in my own writing, I love writing romances. I love having two characters fall in love. I love those awkward first kisses, and those clumsy conversations, and the growing realization of their feelings inside. I love everything about it. I can't say I have ever written anything that didn't have at least some sort of romantic storyline involved.

So I have been asking myself for a while now, what is it about romance that I love so much? I think I have come to the conclusion that I like it because I am never going to fall in love again. Barring some horrible incident in which I no longer have my husbeast, that whole falling in love thing is over for me. I fell in love. I have my love. I already won in that arena. I now get to enjoy that love forever and I am perfectly happy with that.

At the same time though, falling in love is a big deal. Most people search their entire lives for love. We spend our youth going from partner to partner looking for that perfect someone. Some of us are more lucky than others to find that person quickly, or even at all. Still the simple act of searching and finding love is exhilarating.

I will never have another first kiss. I have had my fair share of first kisses in my life; some of them were amazing, some of them were terrible. When I say terrible I mean really awful like kissing a dead fish or like kissing a slobbering mastiff. Still that first kiss, that moment before your lips meet, the anticipation, the desire, the uncertainty, all of it building up for that moment of contact, is so amazing and something that you can never recapture with the same person.

The husbeast was my last first kiss. In case you were wondering if he was one of the terrible ones. It was an amazing one that I will have to share at some point in another post. Still it was the last first kiss I will ever receive. While I am more than happy to give him all my kisses for the rest of time, there will always be that part of me that will miss that thrill of the new.

Which is where romances come in. With those cheesy romantic comedies and love stories, I can live vicariously through the character and have those first kisses all over again. I can read a love story in a book and fall in love with the characters. I can go on that journey over and over again, and never stop falling in love.

Romance stories appeal to that desire we have to fall in love. Whether we are still waiting to fall in love, or if we have our love securely at our side, we always have those stories to keep us going. We can have as many first kisses as we want. We can have that thrill and anxiety of saying I love you for the first time over and over again.

I have found my one true love. I will just fall in love through characters from now on, and I am totally alright with that. 

The post that wasn't

I haven't posted much this week because I have been torn on whether or not to write the post that is germinating in the back of my head. It is occupying my mind enough that every time I try and write something else, it inadvertently becomes that post. It is like this thought has taken my writing brain hostage, but I don't negotiate with terrorists, so the post still isn't going to get written. Unfortunately nothing else is being written in the mean time.

I know at this point you are asking why I don't just write this post since it is obviously something I want to write. Here is the thing; I don't want to write this post. I mean yes, I want to write it, but at the exact same time it is really not something I want to put out there in the universe. The post is probably going to come out far  more negative than I like things and is way more controversial that I am comfortable with here in this blog.

I talked it out with some friends over lunch the other day and they pretty much agreed with me that this post would do nothing but stir a pot that doesn't need stirring. The subject is sensitive and personal, and in the end it is one that would very easily be misconstrued. I would come off looking like a bit of a hater, and that is not the truth at all.

Even after our talk I find that it is still nagging at me. It turns out I am really kind of worked up over this thought. I tried writing the post out just to get it out of my system, but it turned into this sort of jumbled rant. It wasn't even coherent. I came off sounding a bit like a loon and very intolerant. Anyone who knows me can tell you I am incredibly tolerant, though I am a bit of a loon.

I have come to the conclusion that my instinct to not write this post is correct, even if the topic is going to linger and fester in my mind a lot longer. None of you will have to be subject to my rants or rash opinions. You can go on enjoying content as usual here in the land of minions. Of course first I have to rescue my brain from myself. 

Duck, duck, goose!

Superstitions are very interesting things. It is something you see in pretty much every culture in the world. Every society thinks that some particular action or event  will cause bad or good luck to occur. We see it everywhere from people not opening umbrellas indoors, avoiding walking under ladders, throwing spilled salt over their left shoulder, and avoiding black cats.

Not all superstitions are common though. There are some that are a bit obscure. One superstition that I always found to be less well known says that if a bird flies into your window that it is bad luck. I have always thought it was certainly bad luck for the birds, since most of the time when this happens they break their necks.

The first time I ever heard this one I was in 6th grade, so I was about 11. We were at my soon to be step fathers house for the weekend. My mom was watching his two young daughters while he was at work. His house was out in the hill country of central Texas and was surrounded by nothing but trees. In fact the house sat atop a large hill and the only road up was a barely paved goat path. The only other houses on the hill belonged to a couple of his brothers.

As we were watching TV that morning a bird slammed into the sliding glass doors in the living room. We were all pretty well startled by the event, but it was my mother who uttered the superstition aloud. At the time I didn't really think anything of it. Mom was always saying things like that.

Now a couple of hours later, as we were rushing my soon to be step sister to the hospital after a large metal crate had toppled onto her while we were playing and snapped her leg into several pieces, I sort of gave the superstition a second thought. We certainly were visited by bad luck on that day.

I am a superstitious person. Enough so that from that day on I get a little twitchy when birds start flying headlong into my windows. Mostly the only bad luck I have observed is that of the birds dying. Our dog loves it when they hit the window because it means a snack for her.

So yesterday morning I was sitting on my couch being all sickly. I was sitting there in the morning quiet when I heard the distinct sound of a goose honking. The noise was coming from the backyard and was getting louder. This is not too uncommon since we have a lot of birds living on the golf course. Normally though the large birds just fly over our house.

This time though as the sound got louder I realized I could see the goose through the back picture window, and it was not veering up at all. I think the bird only realized the problem a few feet from the window. The honking was cut short by the smacking sound of the goose flying right into the window.

Now like I said, the bird had realized its error in judgement before it hit the glass. These few moments of realization kept it from doing damage to my window or to itself. By the time I got up from the couch it had already flown off back towards the golf course.

It was by far one of the strangest things I have ever seen. Still I could not help but to sit there thinking about the old superstition. I am left to wonder if the size of the bird makes any difference in the amount of bad luck you receive. If it does, and a sparrow snapped my 5 year old sisters leg, what kind of doom awaits me from a full grown goose flying into my window?

Husbeastly

I am sitting at work today being fairly well miserable. I am sick, and while I would be happier at home not sharing my germs, I don't really feel poorly enough to not be in the office. I just don't want to burn a sick day if I don't have to. To make matters worse I left my phone at the house this morning. So now I am miserably sick and I feel naked without my phone. Great way to end a crappy week.

I don't really want to leave this post all negative, but being sick doesn't lend itself to happy shiny thoughts. It mostly just leaves me coughing on my monitor. So since I can't come up with anything nice to say, I will leave you with some pictures of the husbeast.

Yes it is a bit of a cheat, but I am sick. Be happy with what you get.

http://www.pbase.com/mhartman/image/135859030

- Sometimes we get birds in the chimney. They have in the last year or so learned how to get out of the fireplace even when the doors are shut. Trust me, coming home to a bird flying around the house is disturbing. The husbeast has gotten good at catching them, though in this case he may have been the one who was caught.

Really he was more amused by being able to catch the bird than anything else. I was just happy he got it before the cats managed to get it. They were all very disappointed that the husbeast was in the end the greatest hunter in the house.

http://www.pbase.com/mhartman/image/119695456

- The husbeast may seem big and intimidating, but sometimes he is just a big softy. MuShu is very much his cat. From the first time he picked her up at the adoption station, she has had a thing about licking his nose. That is how we ended up knowing she was the one. It still turns him into a little kid when she does it. 

http://www.pbase.com/mhartman/image/140692223

 - Every year we go to a tour of the Ft. Worth zoo with our friend Dan. He used to be a zookeeper there and so he gives us a tour telling us about the animals and some amusing anecdotes about his time working with animals. After all it is better than losing a finger.

The tour always ends with the famous baby duck story. It is told in front of the bear exhibit which has this strange log feature. You can crawl in the log and look at the bears, and in theory they can crawl in the other side. It is small and cramped and there are giant metal grates and stuff between you and the bears.

If the husbeast doesn't fit, I fail to see how that big brown bear is going to squeeze into the tube either. 

Sick ramblings on lost things

My head is full of snot and Mucinex so I am not really certain I can make a coherent sort of post. It took me three tries to just write that sentence, so I am guessing that this will be a challenge to say the least. I like a challenge though, so onward!

Sunday afternoon we had a meeting at my house for the upcoming faire season. I am part of the character staff and we had to go over some exercises and make a few changes to the curriculum. My partner in costuming showed up a few hours early in hopes that we could get some costuming business taken care of, but I was busy trying to cook. We just talked instead, which is always nice.

As we were talking we somehow came across the topic of things we collect. I mentioned that I collect snowglobes, though I don't really ever tell anyone about that. The thing is when you collect something people want to give you that thing. If it is a very common object then it takes no time at all to be surrounded by the thing to the point it is no longer desirable. I don't want that to happen with my snowglobe collection.

Also there is the fact that I am very particular about the snowglobes I collect. I find some styles very appealing, but I find that there are far more that I absolutely hate. I am afraid that if I say, ohh I collect snowglobes, then I will not only get them from everyone, but I will get ones that I hate.

There is nothing worse than getting a present that someone is so excited you will love, and then you hate it. At that point you can smile and lie and say you love it, but then what? I mean do you throw it away? Do you regift it? Do you shove it in a closet and forget about it? Do you put it on display in the one spot in the house you will never have to see it? I suppose it all depends on who gave it to you.

I have employed all of these methods and not just on snowglobes. I never want to hurt the feelings of the gifter. They always mean well, and it is the thought that counts right? Well that is what my mother always told me so we will go with it.

Anyways, I was telling her about my collection and pointed out one of my favorite pieces. Years ago I bought a snowglobe from the Disney store, right about the time that most of their physical locations were closing. It was really expensive even on sale, but I bought it as a birthday present to myself. The piece was a Winnie the Pooh globe. It was a large life preserver ring with S.S. Pooh written on the side, and then inside of it was water and a little dock and a big tree over the dock. There was a classic style Pooh, Eyeore, and Tigger on the dock, and then in a little ship in the water was piglet. The globe itself was only over Piglet and his ship.

I love Winnie the Pooh, especially the classic look, and I love snowglobes. This was sort of an obvious choice. I brought it home and placed it on the counter by our back picture window. The piece is really heavy and had rubber stoppers on the bottom so it was really difficult to slide around. I figured it would be safe there even from the cats who love to shove things off of the counters.

I probably shouldn't have said all of this to my friend. I shouldn't have said it was one of my favorite pieces. I shouldn't have said I didn't worry about the cats knocking it off because it was too heavy for them to just idly bump into and send to its doom. Murphy's law or some such nonsense you know?

Monday I came home and the cats had done just what I said they couldn't do. After five years of that snowglobe sitting in one spot unmoved, the cats shoved it off the counter and onto the floor. It apparently hit tree first, because the tree shattered into a million tiny pieces. Tigger was also broken off and into several pieces. There is no salvaging it.

To say I was angry is an understatement. I chased the cats around screaming at them in a rather irrational manner. I contemplated throwing the lot of them into the cold garage as punishment. I contemplated just throwing them all out of the house and being done with them. I instead cleaned up the mess and consoled myself with pizza.

Now that a few days have passed since the death of my snowglobe I have realized a few things. First, I am really attached to my stuff. Not all of my stuff, but certainly a good amount of my stuff. I think that this is probably not a good thing. It is only stuff. It can be replaced most of the time, and if it can't then it can't. I enjoyed it while I had it, but it isn't like I can't find something else I enjoy.

The other thing I have realized is that my friends and family are wonderful. The first response to seeing my distress at the loss of a prized possession, all they could do was try and replace it as quickly as they could.  They didn't care that the item hasn't been made in years, and is hard to find now, and possibly pretty expensive. All they cared about was making me happy again.

I win.

New and scary

Doing something new is probably one of the most terrifying things in the world. On one hand it can lead to a highly fulfilling experience that you will be forever grateful for. On the other hand it can be disastrous with soul crushing consequences. Alright 'soul crushing' might be a tad extreme, but it illustrates the point.

I am not exactly known for trying new things. I like things that are old and comfortable and known. I am not sure anyone would call me a risk taker. I don't think anyone would ever call me adventurous either. As much as I would like to think I am brave and bold, I am really not.

Only today I am being brave and doing something that I have talked about for quite some time now but never thought I would get up the nerve to do. Today I decided to try my hand at stage combat at faire this year. Yes that is right, I am going to pick up a weapon and fight in the lanes. In theory.

Why is this so scary you might be asking. I mean aside from the obvious point of the fact that I will be swinging a weapon at another human and they will be swinging back, what is there to be afraid of? Ohh wait that is totally what I should be afraid of.

Sure people do this sort of thing all the time. Sure we practice lots of safety for it. Sure there is lots of practice so that we don't kill ourselves or hurt each other. Sure there will still be injuries but that is a risk you have to be willing to take when fighting.

My concern is that I am not exactly the best candidate to fight. I have like no depth perception what so ever. Honestly I have trouble telling how far things are away from me. So if I swing a sword at someone, I am pretty much just guessing that I am the correct distance from my target. I am also just guessing that when they swing at me, that the sword is actually swinging where I think it is.

I also am not in the best of shape. I am better than I have been, but still nothing close to athletic. Even if you don't look at the chunkiness of me, or my general lack of stamina, you haven't even scratched the surface of my physical limitations. I have a herniated disc in my back for starters. This causes all sorts of fun and interesting movement limitations. I also have two bad knees. With these two ailments alone I have issues with bending, squating, and turning quickly.

If you are thinking to yourself that maybe fighting really isn't the best idea for me, you are much saner than I am. You are also thinking the same thing I have been thinking for pretty much my entire time at faire. I mean the idea of fighting seemed nice, but really it didn't sound like it would be in anybodies best interests to arm me.

So why the hell am I doing this? Well because it sounds fun.

When I was in high school and even in college I got to do stage combat as part of my theater training. I think the first stage combat workshop I attended was when I was 12. After that first stage slap I was pretty well convinced that this was the coolest thing since sliced bread. It was hard but it was so much fun. I learned hand to hand combat, sword fighting, and staff fighting. I was never the best at it, but I was always having the time of my life.

It has probably been twelve years since I last did any stage combat. I have sustained multiple injuries since then and completely fallen out of shape. I might have been capable of this back then, but now I am really not so sure.

What I am sure of though is that this is something I really want to try. I am sure that I have plenty of very talented people to teach me how to do this safely around my limitations. I am sure that I have some fight partners who will make me look spectacular no matter what.

New things are scary. This new thing might not have that 'soul crushing' potential, but it does have potential to do a much more lasting physical damage. Even with the risks and the fear and uncertainty that comes with this decision, I am happy I have made it.

I am really looking forward to this. World beware, they are giving me a weapon.

Show me how

I like to think of myself as a very smart person. I am no genius or anything but I know a lot of things about a lot of things. Typically I can carry on a conversation and sound articulate and educated. I freely admit there are some topics I know nothing about. It is always easy to tell when these subjects come up because I will smile a bit more than usual and get a glassy look in my eye as I try and develop a strategy to escape the conversation in a polite fashion.

I actually very much enjoy learning. I liked being in school for the most part. We will just gloss over the whole not finishing college thing. Honestly that had nothing to do with my like of learning. That had to do with, well with things that are not relevant to this post. Moving along...

I like to learn. When I come across something that interests me, I want to know more about. I want to know how things work and what they mean. I want to be informed. I like being in the know. Whether it is history, or the arts, or technology, or math, ok not math, but you get the point. I want to know things.

There is one small problem with this desire; I don't learn well from reading. I mean I can read things and retain information, but learning not so much. Especially if you are talking about learning a skill of some sort I just can't read it and figure it out. Handing me a manual is going to earn you nothing but me being frustrated.

Everyone  learns differently, and I just happen to learn by watching. If you show me something a couple of times, and then watch me as I do it once or twice, I am good to go. I actually learn incredibly quickly if you just show it to me. I have had trainers before that were incredibly impressed with the speed at which I learned things and also the proficiency I demonstrated. 

Of course had they handed me a book and expected me to learn the material I probably would have lost every job I have ever had. I would read it all until I was so frustrated I wanted to throw the book. I would show up and look like a complete idiot because I hadn't been able to figure things out.

This also is not limited to technical skills. If you tell me to read a history book to learn about a topic, I most likely won't retain the information. If it is fiction I have no trouble reciting back to you completely banal details. Educational and it just slips my mind.

In these cases I learn much better from a lecture. In school I always excelled at classes that were more lecture than anything else. I often searched out classes where the books were more of a supplement study guide and less of what the class was about. Any class where I was told "Oh you can just read the book and ignore the lectures" I was dubious of. I especially hated classes where they would lecture on a small portion of the subject and then test you over the things you read and were never discussed. 

I have been having some issues with my iPod which has brought me to the realization that I just need to figure out how to make my expensive phone work as an mp3 player instead of shelling out money for a new iPod. No sense in buying something new if I have something that, in theory, works already.

The issue is my phone is an Android and it isn't exactly simple to get my music onto it. I tried to figure it out when I first got the phone, but that failed miserably. Lots of well meaning friends sent me link after link of written instructions on how to do what I wanted. I thanked them and promptly went back to using my iPod deciding it was less frustrating that way.

What I want is someone to just come do it for me. I don't want to figure it out on my own, because that just isn't going to happen. Now if they want to sit down and show me how to do it and walk me through the steps I am all for that. If you can show me what to do, I can learn it no problem at all. That is just the way I learn.

So until I can convince the husbeast or some kind friend to just make the music be on my phone I will most likely just suffer through the iPod's crazy behavior. I would hope someone would eventually actually teach me how to use my phone, but I am not really holding my breath.

I could always go to YouTube and try and find a how to video since I am told there is a YouTube video for everything. Of course my inability to make YouTube work for me (along with my total lack of Google-foo) is a post for another time.

Maybe there are just some things that can not be taught.

Non resolution

It is resolution season and everywhere you look there are people spouting off about how this year they will be <fill in the blank with resolution no one will actually keep>. I mean people have the best intentions to keep their resolutions and actually make positive changes in their lives, but how many people actually manage to do what they resolve to do. It is a lovely idea that has really bad follow through.

The one resolution that always seems to be screamed the loudest is the one for eating right and getting fit in the new year. Something about January first and coming off the carb and sugar fest of the holidays makes everyone diet and fitness crazy. Everyone says they are going to work out and lose weight. It is a thing.

Going to the gym at this time of year is just insane. My normally busy gym is now packed with people who will come religiously for about a month and then not resurface again until next January. Not that I really have room to talk, I haven't been to the gym since like August. Still I know that if I were to go tonight after work I would stand and wait to use any of the machines.

All in all I find it annoying. There is nothing that makes me want to sit on my couch and eat an entire pizza and pint of ice cream by myself more than being swamped with people talking about losing weight and being healthy. Something about it kicks in my spite and makes me just want to be contrary.

Ohh you are all going paleo for a good cleanse? Here watch me eat some pizza. Ohh you are giving up processed foods and eat whole? Here watch me eat a twinki. Ohh you are running twice a day plus an hour at the gym? I am going to go watch an entire season of Big Bang Theory in one night.

It took me a very long time to get on the being healthy wagon. I spent literally years being told I had to lose weight, I had to eat better, I had to work out. Of course these opinions were coming from friends and family and sometimes random strangers. Not that they weren't concerned for me and had good intentions, but it really didn't make me want to do any of those things despite knowing they were right.

I didn't start at New Years. I didn't make any resolutions. I just did it. One day I woke up and decided it was time. I gave up sodas. I started tracking my food. I started working out at the gym and at home. I started taking the stairs. I started eating more fruit and less chips. I stopped keeping junk food and snacks in the house. I started slowly making the right changes in my life for the best reason; because I wanted to.

It has also been a struggle not to focus on the numbers. I don't want to judge my progress on the number on the scale or the size of my jeans. That isn't what this is all about. I mean don't get me wrong, I do a little dance when the scale goes down or I realize I need one size lower in jeans. I am only human, and very much a woman, and my ego loves these things. The point of this though is to be healthy and feel better. The smaller jeans size is the bonus to the journey.

So I applaud people for attempting to use the New Year as a kick start to a healthier lifestyle and I truly hope that they can manage to meet their goals. I just hope that their goals and resolutions are set on a desire to do it for themselves and not because it is the thing everyone else is pushing right now. Don't drink the kool-aid because everyone else is, drink it because you want to.

Dangerous love

I swear that my animals are trying to kill me. They are such wonderful sweet loving things most of the time. After the last few weeks I am beginning to think all that cute and fluffy is nothing but a disguise to their evil plans to do me in. Not the husbeast mind you, just me.

I mentioned that my oldest cat, Pig, was very sick just before and during Christmas. The old man was a head full of snot and a big ball of patheticness. I mean seriously he has the pathetic thing down. He is my baby though, even being the oldest of our pets. The longer you have them the closer you are. I can't tell you how badly I worried over him until he was completely better.

While the worry was bad for me that wasn't the part where I thought he was trying to kill me. He has been very cuddly and loving since he became sick, and even now that he is feeling better. The cat wants to be on me at all times. I love all the cuddling, except maybe when it results in me almost choking.

Last night he managed to situate himself on the blankets in just such a way that when I rolled over they caught around my neck. I was just awake enough to realize I was tangled in the blankets, though it took me a moment to figure out why I couldn't get them off of me so I could breath. Also when I tried to shove him off the bed with my elbow so I could free myself he did that thing where he turns into a ball of solid lead.

Of course the old man isn't the only one who has it in for me. The dog is trying really hard to hobble me. She may seem all sweet and like she is the biggest omega ever, but she is not. Do not be fooled by those big brown eyes and wiggly tail.

We always give the dog the bone from the Christmas roast. That is her present. She loves it. She will sit for hours and gnaw on that bone. Days. Weeks even. Well if you have had a dog  that you fed bones to you know that after a week or so anything that is left is nothing more than razor sharp shards of bone. I mean seriously how is the dogs mouth not shredded?

I should point out now that we have white carpets in our house. White bone shards mixed with white carpeting leads to nothing good. Especially since we never wear shoes inside the house. Ever. Yea you can see where this is going.

The first time I stepped on it I only barely caught it. I was carrying a cat to the bedroom and I noted out loud to the husbeast to be careful of the bone shard. I dropped the cat off and went back to retrieve the next cat. This required me to walk right past where I had just pointed out the bone. I made sure not to step on it when I went to get the cat, coming back I was not so lucky.

I managed to cut the hell out of my foot as I stepped on the bone full force. Actually I didn't break the skin since it her the thick calloused part of my heel just there it meets the arch. There was however clearly a cut under the skin. It was long, ugly and bleeding. Oh and did I mention it hurt like hell?

I keep throwing the pieces away when I find them, but then she brings more out from wherever she has hidden them. The husbeast is good and picks them up and moves them out of the middle of the floor for me. The dog is good and moves them back immediately for me to step on.

Not to be left out though is the kitten. I swear she is trying to scare me to death. For years now we have had a hole in the shower wall in our guest bathroom. We had plumbing issues and have just never gotten around to closing the wall up and retiling the shower. Some day we will.

Until that day comes we have a gaping hole in the wall. A hole that is big enough for the cats to get into. Most specifically the kitten. The other two are quite a bit bigger not to mention older and disinclined to crawl into walls. I know that she can't actually get anywhere in the wall because of the way the studs are at that point, but I have this paranoid fear she will figure out how to do it and then get stuck causing us to have to rip down drywall to save the kitten.

As if that paranoid fear isn't bad enough (matched with the fear of not being able to find her and thinking she escaped) there is the placement of this wall. The wall on one side is the shower, on the other side it is the living room wall right where my spot on the couch is. It will scare the crap out of you when suddenly something is moving inside the wall behind your head.

No one ever said owning a pet wasn't an adventure. I just wish mine were not so keen on making it quite such an interesting, and sometimes painful, ride. 

New Year hopes

It is that time of year for the obligatory holiday recap/year end review/setting of new year goals and resolutions. At least it would be that kind of post if I was in any way inclined to write such a thing, which I am not. Sorry minions, I am breaking with the trend.

Honestly I am too tired just now to think clearly on what all has happened and is about to. My holiday season only ended yesterday with a whirlwind second Christmas and rush home for jam packed two day New Years celebrations. After two weeks of four and five day weekends I don't even have any idea what day it is half the time.

Work is all backwards. I don't know if I am coming or going or what work I should be doing. Add in the fact that co-workers keeping being out sick things are even more whacky. It will be February before things around here are up to date and running smoothly again.

Faire is already well underway for me. I have been doing meetings and planning for almost two months now. We are hitting the point during the planning stage where a lot of stuff has to get done sooner rather than later. I have hit the point where I have to make some decisions for my own performance this year, and honestly I sort of just want to not think about it at all.

I am in the middle of a long bout of not giving a damn about anything. I find that most days I am just proud of myself for getting out of bed and going to work. If I can manage a grocery run after work instead of going home and watching TV it is a good day. I am not depressed or anything like that. It is more like my laziness and apathy have taken hold of my life. I keep saying that this will change, but it turns out I have strong procrastination skills.

All in all I am glad it is January. I am glad that pretty much the only things I have to worry about for the next six months are my job and faire. While those things are huge and time consuming, they are manageable when that is all I have to focus on.

I hope that you my minions had a pleasant holiday season. I hope you were not too overwhelmed by the crazy that can occur in these joy and activity filled months. I hope you got some good swag, had some laughter and joy, ate some tasty treats, avoided too much drama, got in a little relaxation, and basically survived the holidays mostly intact.

I also hope that your new year is full of more good things than bad things. I hope you dream big and live as much as possible. I hope you remember to breath and to smile and to laugh at yourself. I hope you pick yourself up when you fall and dust yourself off and jump back in. I hope you love. I hope you feel more peace than strife. I hope you sleep well. I hope you experience more gain and joy than loss and sorrow. I hope you can stay strong.

I hope.