I have taken ill

I haven’t had an actual bug since ecoli last September when I felt like I was going to die, but I’m dramatic. This cold is what happens when I interact with other human beings. Ironically, I think I picked it up at the cabin this last weekend. I would blame the baby, but he is perfect – see pics of the fun at http://saradano.blogspot.com/

Also, I’m bleeding to death. Funny how it all happens at once. Why do we not talk about these things more? But, And! my cute little old parents gave me some of their extra stuff – an iron and a big old mixer. So if you want crisp shirts and fresh baked bread, come over (and show me how the hell to work these things). But not right now.

Gus

Damn, I guess I really do have another cat.

He got tore up from the floor up last night (see: chunk out of the side of his head), so I guess it’s a good thing that yesterday I got him a $4 rubbermaid box and a $3 towel to bleed on. I’m pretty sure he’s been scrapping for years. He’s missing his tail and probably some brains, and soon I hope he’ll be missing his balls so if you want to donate to the cause, just have yer mama give me more cash than usual.

Sassy (abandoned stray who strongly believes this is his house) bastard.

Fugly?

I think the winter desert is beautiful, but your mother doesn’t agree. Her view is not that great though. The foothills are a short distance from my apt, so I hike often, for my girlish figure could disappear quickly without the shoveling of shittons of snow.

The Pad for heaven’s sake

Dude, I am so rolling my eyes right now (you should be too) with the posting of apartment pictures (because I rent? I used to own a home. I’ve gotten myself in this position. In Boise. Idaho. I digress). I realize you people can’t come to Boise just to have a cocktail, so here you go. Maybe I’m just grumpy because Mercury is in retrograde? Or I don’t have a job/income?

It’s cat approved, however, they have to be coaxed out when company is here. Sharp Tillamook horomone-free cheese please (where the cows still live in their own poop and have ginormous painfully full utters anyway. I drove through the Tillamook area and my jaw dropped at the conditions, but here I am with a chunk of cheese in the fridge because I…can’t…stop…eating…it, and the guilt! The guilt! Is not enough apparently).

It’s a brick duplex built in the early 70’s adjacent to the “cool” neighborhood in Boise, if there is such a thing. Again, I live in the strawberry in the shit-patch. (See: Chi Chi’s butt in the catstand)

I scored an older maple table, and it’s sexy.

The kitchen is nice (I’ve heard two people comment about the cupboard space with awe in their voices, but whatever – I have four plates, a spoon, and a can of beans and the cupboards scare me with their left-over smells). There’s ants though! I haven’t baked a thing yet because of the ickyness involved.

There’s two small bedrooms, a washer/dryer hook-up (but hi laundrymats!), and a cute bathroom, fenced yard, storage, off-street parking behind the house, squirrels, birds, and a stray cat left by the previous occupants who’s really pushy and I named Gus. I will need to get him fixed, of course. Just because he ain’t having them doesn’t mean he’s not half the reason there’s like one cat out of a billion that’s saved. I mean, people are the real reason because they don’t listen to Bob Barker. Say what? The dude howls. I’m all, shut-up Gus, and then I feel bad because he was kicked out of the apt and just left there, all stray like, and then I’m all, I’m sorry I told you to shut-up, Gus. And he keeps on Yeowling.

Anyway.

Um woops.

Let me go ahead and permanently damage my reputation with an example of my air-headedness. A week ago I was startled and confused by all the on-line news hype surrounding the tomato crops in the central-ish south states. My logic self was truly deep in thought about 1) The winter season for growing tomatoes (I mean, I know they can ripen off the vine into the late fall, but it’s February for heaven’s sake), and 2) I didn’t know the south had such a big commodity in tomatoes (like maybe the weather’s similar to Italy – even though I know tomatoes originally came from the Americas?), and 3) Maybe this would raise the prices like when the oranges freeze in Florida, not that I’m partial to tomatoes because their acidity makes my peash irritated, like orange juice does, or dark chocolate. Or your mother.

So today, again, the tomatoes. The president is going to inspect the damage? Why all the fuss, I mean, I respect farmers really a lot for their keeping us alive and all but this has gone too far.

And then I realize it’s the tornadoes they are talking about.

Update 2008: Way too much time on my hands

Some of you (perhaps maybe both of my blog readers) may be wondering what my apt looks like. Well, it’s long, with lots of closet space, and very bright. For those that need a visual aid, behold:

 

It’s frightening and fascinating at the same time.

Mkay

I got the innernets today! And a babysitter for myself called “basic expanded cable.” Everything will be alright again.

Also, I’m bloated.

p.s. I moved into my own flat! Because I’m nineteen apparently. Finally.