Static

Posted on | January 29, 2007 | 3 Comments

Cold weather makes me happy. Being electrocuted every time I touch a filing cabinet or close the car door – not so much fun! All of my jackets and shoes hold a static charge. What can I do to alleviate my misery? Should I just go naked ??
*joke!*
After a conversation with Cat, and with Mom, I settled into my evening. Clarity and acceptance crept into my mind. I can’t hold on to the betrayal, to keep it close like some freak-show child. It’s time to let things go. I think for the first time in months, I am going to perform a cleansing spell.  It’s needed. I talked about many things with Cat – getting D’s demo reel done, what we want to do for the holidays, the cleansing nature of moving. Mom and I tried to plan out the graduation trip. It seems that everyone is coming out for the weekend, rather than a full week. Disappointing, as I love my family and it’s so rare that my siblings and I can get our mother to hang out. Add Cat and Brains, and we have all the makings of a party. I will share my veggie enchiladas, bean dip (I keep meaning to post that recipe) and other Mexican goodness. It seems alternately far and close. Time is short for Orlando… but I will have my fun!

My deodorant seems to be failing me.
Shit.
I am getting annoyed by this deoderant issue. I’ve tried a million brands and can’t find anything that keeps my pits dry. And I’m not much of a sweater (as in one who sweats, rather than a peice of clothing) so I don’t know why this keeps happeneing.
Shit.

Did you know I hate roaches? We hates them, precious. They are tricksy, and fucking gross. And my lovely black exterminator has done a fantastic job of killing the bastards. I need to teach him to throw them away as well. Ugh.
We have annual shots due  for the fuzzies, both cats and Puck. It will make for a fun ride. We are bringing Pip as well. The vet needs to look at his ears. But, while we are gone, I am bombing the house. Those bastard roaches will die, and I will dance a little dance over their corpses, being careful not to actually step on one.
The thought…. oh god.
I’m nauseous.

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