Sabatical

I've decided to put this blog on sleep mode for a while. I have various reasons:

1. I'm taking a summer math class which is using up the vast majority of my time and is, unfortunately, completely necessary if I wanna transfer in the spring (which I do).
2. I need to concentrate on finishing up my remaining classes and transferring, and being all studious severely cuts into my time for anything fun or interesting, meaning...
   
3. I haven't done much in the way of knittin' or craftin' lately, and I feel it's a waste to post nothing but silly rants and game reviews and other such fillers.

Not sure when this place will be active again, but I hope that when it is, y'all will come back to read my rambles. :)
Take care and have a happy summer!

Arrrr!

Recently discovered that Sid Meier has put out an updated version of his classic Pirates! computer games: Sid Meier's Pirates! Living the Life. So of course it had to be bought.
Now I am addicted to this game. Finals are looming, and all I want to do is sit at this computer and pretend to be a pirate.
I remember playing Pirates! Gold back in the day (although it was my brother's game; I didn't get much play time) and it was grand. This version has been kicked up, graphics-wise, and seems easier to navigate. The music is swashbuckling, and the action is quick and fun.
One of the biggest drawbacks, however, is the repetitive cutscenes. They're almost exactly the same, over and over and over again. Same with the dancing and, sadly, the sword fighting - they get to be a chore pretty quickly.
Another complaint is that it's a bit on the childish side - corny and cartoony. That's okay, but wouldn't it be nice to play a grittier, adult-oriented (don't think dirty) game? The actual life of your pirate is not too realistic in this game - I mean, c'mon, pirates had to deal with guns, swords, cannons, soldiers of angry nations, disease, and bad hygiene. Life may have been swashbuckling but I'd wager it wasn't very pretty. And this game doesn't even show BLOOD.

Bottomline: full of piratey goodness and pretty damn fun at first, but sure to get boring quicker than it should.

Xmas in May

How does this pattern grab ya? The snowman is almost cute, but Santa looks like he's waiting for you to turn your back so he can suck your soul out through your left nostril. Just the thought of this thing lurking in the dark living room would chase away dreams of dancing sugarplums and invoke visions of fire and brimstone.

More creepy cuteness can be found here.

Nothing to post

Meh, I got nothing. But here's some randomness (hopefully entertaining).

Go look at this. Yup, it's a beerbot. How much beer must one swill to earn a beerbot? A lot.

Dare to battle me? Beware, I have two of the best super powers EVER.

Nemo is a Giant Dragon that has a Swirly Hypnotic Gaze, can Leap Great Distances, and is Wreathed with Flames. Strength: 7 Agility: 10 Intelligence: 9 To see if your Giant Battle Monster can defeat Nemo, enter your name and choose an attack: fights Nemo using StrengthAgilityIntelligence

A Stupid Story.

I had an incident a couple months ago when I had to get up (too) early on a Saturday to go to work. I'm not very alert before, say, noon, but as I headed out my bedroom, I heard someone walking on the roof, and saw a big man-sized shadow through my blinds. I figured that my dad was fiddling around with the gutters or something, and left for work.

It took me until an hour after arriving at work to realized that dad had been asleep in his bed when I left the house.

This meant:
a) Someone had been on the roof. Right outside my window.
or,
b) I had finally lost my mind completely and irrevocably.

We never found any evidence that any creepo had actually been on the roof, so instead of ringing the loony bin, we all chose to pretend it never happened.
Until about two weeks later.
I was woken up around dawn by loud person-walking-on-the-roof noises and of course thought, "oh crap, the imaginary rooftop pervert is back!" This time, however, my blinds were partially open, and I was able to see more than his big creepy shadow.
It was a squirrel. A fucking squirrel. Not even perverted peeking toms are interested in harassing me. I get small wildlife.
I now know that the sound of a fat ugly squirrel clawing his way up my window screen for no apparent reason is the same sound as a full-grown man walking around on roof shingles. I kid you not. SAME SOUND.
And my furry little tormentor didn't stop there. He kept coming back, diabolically timing his harassments for moments when I was asleep, changing clothes, or otherwise completely unprepared for a counterattack.
But yesterday, I had my revenge.
I was studying in my room, with the window open, when I detected the noises of my enemy sneaking up to my window for another surprise attack. Now, if my cat were still living, I would have simply let her out on the roof, and she would have eaten him. I had to settle for lying in wait until he started his climb, then suddenly leaping at him, scratching the screen and barking, scaring the little shit so bad he fell off the screen and scuttled away in such a panic he probably left a trail of urine behind him. He hasn't come back to visit since.
I told you it was a stupid story.

I'm an Olympian, albeit a lazy one.

Okay, Baby Kady, your fetching new outfit is done and ready to ship. See? It's going in the box.



Alright, so it's nothing impressive. But it comes with a matching hat.



Please overlook the questionable quality of the crochet borders. Auntie did the best she could, but she's not a very good hooker yet (give her a few drinks first). She's just relieved she made the Knitting Olympics deadline, meaning she's not an utter failure, just bad at time management.

Happy flippin' Valentine's Day.

Or, as Kristen calls it, Single Awareness Day.
I'm broke, so no gifts this year, but I still wanted in on the festivities. Hence, this little guy:



I got the idea from the Bad Juju Knit Along. I wanted to participate in that, but couldn't justify spending the time on something so useless (but so cute). Then, ding-dong! Pincushion, moron. And a project to practice da sewing skillz. Consider him a Valentine's gift to you all.
Isn't he oh-so-cute and happy? He also comes with great accessories: Love Hurts Needles and Goodbye Cruel World Noose.



I'm naming him Buddy, because he is so helpful with my sewing projects.
There has been a bit of Knitting Olympics progress around here. Along with the sleeves, finished the back of the baby sweater:


I do admit to feeling like a cop-out in this event. It's only a baby outfit; fer cryin' out loud, it's in garter stitch. But I'm still having issues fitting it in my schedule. Oh well; it's not a creative challenge, but at least I will finish by the deadline.

FINALLY!

One weekend, I said "enough is enough, it's time to finish this thing!" And I did. And it's done. It's DONE! This is the Furuba bag that was originally conceived as the "Punk Rock Backpack" in Stitch 'n' Bitch. Long ago, I knit all the separate pieces and was just beginning to join them together before I remembered that I really don't like backpack purses. 'So I'll turn it into a shoulder bag,' I thought, 'easy!' And it would have been, if I hadn't kept changing the dumb design. I probably redesigned it four or five times, and the poor thing has spent the vast majority of nearly two years as an "on hold" project, because I kept getting angry and throwing it in the corner. But I sure learned a whole lot from this project: intarsia, duplicate stitch, picking up stitches, backstitch, buttonholes, and extending. I also relearned how to make and sew in a fabric liner. Whew. The picture doesn't show it, but the bag closes with a flap in the back that buttons. If I could do it again, I think I'd have it close in front for convenience's sake.


You can see that it's pretty floppy, but since the yarn is just cheap acrylic, it doesn't block very well. Whatever. I'm just happy that it's finally done and I can use it.
I keep thinking, though: how old is too old to wear this type of stuff? When we're young, we can get away with almost anything, but at a certain point it just starts to look ridiculous. Someone please tell me when I reach that point.

Killed by...

Zetta sent me this one. Get some cheap thrills by googling "[your name] was killed by", and seeing what wacky (or depressing) stuff pops up. My favorites:
1) Lainey was killed in the siege of school no. 1.
Sounds exciting.
2) Lainey was killed in a car accident involving an eighteen wheeler.
Gee, I wonder whose car was more damaged?
3) Lainey was killed by another of Liams' hired assassins in order to get to Henry.
Damn you, Henry!
4) Lainey was killed by NutraSweet.
That's just pathetic.
5) The baby survived, but Lainey was killed by the intense cold her baby produced. Even the delivery doctor had frostbite on his fingers after the delivery.
One more reason not to have children.

whoa.

Wow, I just remembered that I have a blog, and it's been about three months since I updated it.
Don't worry, readers, you haven't missed much.
It was school, school, work, and school for awhile there, and I had no energy for anything else. I'm on winter break now, and catching up on my zzzz's and the rest of my life. Right now I'm busy with new year's cleaning (out with the old dust bunnies and junk mail, in with the new).
I vaguely remember having some resolutions last year, so let's see how well I kept 'em:
1) Learn to crochet.
I made it under the wire for this one. I figured out how to do a crochet border on a knitted piece a day or two before the deadline.
2) Finish all abandoned knitting projects (I have at least 5 going right now).
I think I'm down to two abandoned ones, and one I'm starting up again soon.
3) Drink more water, and cut back further on soda.
Done and done. I'm down to about one soda a month.
4) Start experimenting with dying yarn at home.
er, forgot about this one.
5) Work on my sewing skills (they're really pathetic as of now, so this one won't be too difficult).
I took a crappy summer class, which I dropped out of, but at least I leaned how to operate the dang machine. I'm continuing my education by experience.
6) Eat more fruits and veggies (obligatory health-related resolution).
Failure.
7) Acquire permanent job.
Sweet success. The cherry on top is being named employee of the quarter. Woot!

Results? 4 1/2 victories and 2 1/2 sunk ships. Yes!!! 2005 was not a total failure!!!!
To cap off the year, I became an 'auntie.' Baby Kady made it safely into the world almost a month ago. Big congrats and kisses to Daddy Steve and Momma Linds! Only eighteen more years to go, guys! And Auntie has picked up the needles again to make lots of cute baby-type garments, so expect knitting updates fairly soon.
Farewell, 2005.
2006, we hope you'll be good to us.

Update

During a stop on our geology field trip in the Marin Headlands area, we saw several park ranger vehicles drive by with the lights flashing. When we were ready to continue five minutes later, they'd blocked off the main road, and we were detoured to no man's land.
The reason for this, we just discovered, was that less than half a mile away from where we'd been, some guy had pulled over on the side of the road and was, apparently, yuking. Rangers noticed and tried to question him, but he was acting weird, so they searched his car. Lo and behold, there in the trunk was his ex-girlfriend, whom he'd very recently killed. That's when the rangers called in the cavalry. Presumably, the dude was planning on doing a body dump over the cliff. The excitement of our near-brush with a murderer was spoiled by his idiocy. A stealthier criminal would have picked a time other than midday on a sunny weekend to do his body-dumping.

Nerdiness

Went to the coast yesterday on a field trip for my geology class. After about eight hours "out in the field" with my classmates, I was forced to come to an inescapable conclusion: cool people do not go on geology field trips. These are excursions for the nerd elite. I can only say that there were a lot of Star Wars jokes.
It was an interesting. We got to glare jealously at the HUGE ocean-side houses - damn rich people. But I was comforted by the fact that although they can afford multi-million-dollar coastal homes, money can't buy them brains. This was exhibited by the fact that they chose to build next to or directly on top of fault lines, and also that the rock supporting their mansions was pillow basalt, which is constantly being devoured by the ocean. Further evidence was a house which boasted a backyard fence literally on the edge of a sharp cliff over the ocean. And the fence was about two feet tall. As if that wasn't dangerous enough, those daredevils chose to place a trampoline in their yard. Within three feet of the inexplicably short fence.
It was, admittedly, hard to gauge exact distances from my vantage point, but here's how it looked:

I did see a couple of kids jumping on the thing, but when we passed by again thirty minutes later, they were gone. Did they go inside? Or did they fall over the absurdly short fence?
Now that's natural selection at work.

In closing, I would just like to say that when you work this hard for a joke, it doesn't deserve to be laughed at:

Meme'd to Death.

To be honest, I don't really know what the word meme means. I just know that it's a term bloggers use for "tagging" each other with random "personality quizzes." Basically, they are the blog equivalent of stupid mass-forwarded emails. Still, I got "tagged" at some chick's site, and since I have nothing better to do at the moment, here goes:

10 Years Ago: I was in junior high, getting alternately ignored and teased by the other kids, wearing ugly clothes and braces, fighting with my hair, and hating every second of everything.
5 Years Ago: I was fresh out of high school with little direction in my life, loving and adjusting to my first job, and perpetually late for everything. I was one year away from a rather traumatizing series of car accidents, none of which were my fault (honestly!). I was also, sadly, a bit thinner.
1 Year Ago: I was grieving for my Kibby Kitty. I was also beginning to focus more on school and to set serious academic goals in my desperation to graduate from community college.

5 Treats I Enjoy:

• Cold water.
• Twix bar.
• Nectarines.
• Over-priced yuppie coffee drinks.
• Hot cocoa.

5 Songs I Know the Words To: I think I know quite a few more, but here's the ones I can think of now.

• "#1 Crush," Garbage.
• the entire Franz Ferdinand album.
• "Should I stay or Should I go," The Clash.
• "Silver and Cold," AFI.
• the entire "Hot Fuss" album by The Killers.

5 Things I Would Do With a Million Dollars: (I wouldn't buy you a monkey.)

• Bum around Europe for a year or two.
• Take my friends to Hawai'i or somewhere equally fun.
• Go on a maaaaad shoe/clothing/purse/jewelry shopping spree.
• Hook myself up with an iPod.
• Buy half a house (this is, remember, California. A million dollars only goes so far).

5 Places I'd Like to Run Away To:

• England. (Nowhere specific.)
• Hawaii or Polynesia.
• France.
• The ocean.
• Canada (death to Bush).

5 Things I Would Never Wear:

• Pointy-toed shoes (my feet are f-ing big enough).
• Real animal fur.
• Tapered-leg pants.
• Plaid with polka dots and stripes.
• A bikini in public (I don't want to be the cause of mass blindness and trauma).

5 Favorite T.V. Shows: I try not to watch t.v., because I'm easily addicted, plus it makes me feel dumb. These shows are the only I watch with any sort of regularity, and they are all really lame. I started to watch the last two as part of a project for my American Culture class, and now continue to watch for no real reason. But they are all good to knit in front of.

• CSI - (Original series only) Very unrealistic for the most part. But I enjoy predicting the plot twists and watching the downright bizarre cases unfold. And I do like most of the characters.
  
• Without a Trace - Again, lame. The delicious Enrique Murciano make it worth the watch, but lately not even he can save its recent turn to boring and angsty crap.
  
• Lost - Addicting at first, but it's starting to drag. I mean, how long can one stay interested in dramatic, mysterious plot twists with a bunch of gorgeous people (every one with a tragic past) stuck on a booby-trapped island? Do yourselves a favor, guys, and end it this season.
• Desperate Housewives - I can hear you laughing at me. I'm not sure why I watch this show, except to see how ridiculous it gets. It's so lame and to the extreme. I don't think I even like any of the characters, although Mike Delfino is some good eye-candy. I find it fascinating that our culture is one that will tune in en masse to a show that glorifies hormone-driven lowlifes behaving badly.
  
• Grey's Anatomy - I can just see the creators of this show doing the initial brainstorming. Some schmuck probably said, "Hey! ER's been done, but what if we completely changed the "hospital workers" theme by mixing in healthy doses of teenage angst like you'd find on the WB channel, and "clever modern singles with unrealistically witty dialogue" a la Sex and the City?" And all the other schmucks exclaimed, "BRILLIANT!!" This show is so trite and predictable that it's funny to watch. The characters are junior high kids put in the bodies of adults, having crushes on each other and moaning about how their lives are miserable. The writers took every single situation that's been over-done on TV and crammed it all into this show: casual sex, unexpected pregnancy, the boyfriend's wife showing up, contracting an STD from your girlfriend only to find she got it from your most hated coworker, unrequited love, yadda yadda yadda. Keep in mind that these people are supposed to be responsible for the lives and health of the masses, and yet they don't know enough to use condoms. Sheesh.

5 Greatest Joys:

• Reading a new book. Or an old favorite.
• Finishing my homework.
• Sleeping late.
• Holidays with the family.
• Having my rooms be clean and organized. (Not that it lasts long...)

5 idiosyncrasies:

• You remember that "step on a crack..." children's rhyme? Well, to this day I don't step on the cracks. Not for fear of any superstition; it's been automatic for years.
• I don't like to sleep with socks on.
• When I was little and a very quiet, shy little kid, I didn't like to express myself in any way others would notice. So when I got really happy or excited, I would give a silent shudder. I still find myself doing this on occasion, mostly when I'm alone.
• When eating dinner, I have always started with the vegetables, then the side dish, and saved the main meat for last. If the side dish is better than the main (e.g.: mashed potatoes vs. pork), however, then I eat the side dish last.
• I always make piles on the floor. They can consist of books, papers, knitting crap, but it's usually clothes. Dirty clothes, yes, but also clothes that I tried on but didn't wear, new clothes, and stuff that needs mending. The clothing mountains usually stay a week or two before I get disgusted and put it all in the proper places. Unfortunately, the cycle begins again immediately.

Deja vu!

Driving home from work tonight, I saw another bagpiper. He was a fireman, of all things, standing in front of his station in the dark and playing away. Another coincidence? He was directly across the street from a park.
These are the moments camera phones were made for. Alas that I cannot afford one.

Thursday is Hell Day.

eh heh. NoUpdate McBaron here. I'm bloody exhausted, but the day was mildly interesting enough to share.
Nemo's Notable Observations Today:
*There was a bagpiper playing his/her heart out in the little "park" (aka empty space with 3 trees and a bench) near the campus. I have seen one or two bagpipers in public before, but this was the first one who was a) not in San Francisco, and b) actually listenable. Bag on, dude.
*Pop Tarts has a new flavor, Strawberry Milkshake. That's right, you'd be EATING a milkshake. In a Pop Tart. That's just weird, man.
*There sure are an awful lot of college whippersnappers this semester (well, I say college). There were kids so young in my geology class that they were only 2 or 3 years old during the Loma Prieta Earthquake. I am officially too old to be going to that school.
*It was amusing to watch the attached-at-both-hips, limb-entangled, can't-let-go-of-each-other-for-two-seconds couple try to figure out how to get into their car without disengaging from their permanent embrace.
*Today was apparently Dumb Pedestrian Day, though I don't recall getting that memo. I lost count of how many dumbfucks kept jaywalking directly into oncoming traffic, also jumping in front of my car for no obvious reason, etc. Not to mention Dumbfuck On A Bike, who, while crossing against the light, decided to perform a badass maneuver, only to end up crashing and asphalt-burning his ugly shirtless ass. Then he held up traffic retrieving his cell phone, wallet, hat, brain, and shoe, with his ugly shirtless buddy on a bike trying to help. Nice move, jerk.
*On a similar note, today was another day when my car was apparently invisible, because other cars were pulling out in front of me, stealing my turn at stop signs, backing into me, and switching lanes on top of me like there was no tomorrow. Another theory is that my car is so freaking awesome that other drivers are hypnotically drawn to steer as close as they can get to my driver's seat, forgetting that two cars do not magically blend together.
*Sitting in classes from 10AM until 7PM is agony on the butt.
*Writing the best essay in history class and having the teacher pass it around as an example for the other students to follow is bitchin'.

"No, ma'am, we're musicians."

Happy Silver Anniversary to The Blues Brothers!!!!
Twenty-five years ago, the cult hit movie The Blues Brothers was released. We watched Jake and Elwood on their "mission from god," rampaging their way through Chicago. They cleverly outwitted cops, got beaten by a nun with a stick, took out a group of Nazis ("I hate Illinois Nazis."), and caused an obscene amount of damage. Most importantly, they exhibited great music, not just playing it themselves, but getting legends such as James Brown ("Do you see the light?"), Aretha Franklin ("You better think about the consequences of your actions."), John Lee Hooker, Cab Calloway ("Boys, you gotta learn not to talk to nuns that way."), and Ray Charles ("Ah, excuse me, but I don't think there's anything wrong with the action on this piano.") in on the act. Singing, dancing, destruction, and stupid, off-the-wall humor; ah, life is good.
My dad's a big fan, so The Blues Brothers was an essential part of my upbringing. Whether or not this was healthy is debatable.
[Nerd note: Trooper Mount is played by Steven Williams, who later plays the mysterious Mr. X on The X-Files.]
The sequel, Blues Brothers 2000, was released in 1998. Again, it displayed some truly excellent music and talented artists (Johnny Lang, BB King, Wilson Pickett, Blues Traveler, Erykah Badu, and returnees James Brown and Aretha), but toned down the insanity and made it a bit more family-friendly. Try as they might, though, it didn't quite measure up (for example, hick white supremasist conspiracy theorists are simply not as funny antagonists as Illinois Nazis driving Pintos). It was a good movie, just not as hilarious as the first one.
Let's leave the last words to the gang:
-"This place has got everything." (Jake, whilst traveling through the mall. Literally.)
-"I'll have some dry white toast."
"And I'll have four fried chickens and a coke." (Elwood and Jake, ordering at the Soul Food Cafe).
-"The Blues Brothers?! Shit. They still owe you money, fool!" (Aretha)
-"Three orange whips." (Mr. Mercer, ordering drinks at the concert.)
-"We're putting the band back together." (Jake)
-"No pharmaceutical product could ever equal the rush you get when the band hits that groove..." (Elwood J. Blues, Blues Brothers 2000)

"I'm a rebel; I'm evil. My anti-perspirant is breaking down!"

Feeling a bit bad-ass right now. But I'm almost ashamed to admit why.
I thought it would be a good idea to learn to sew this summer, so I tried to enroll in an adult-ed class ("Sewing 1 - The Basics of Sewing") but it was all filled. I signed up on the wait list, but knew I wouldn't get in. Lo' and behold, the teacher called me a couple days before class and said she had ONE opening. So I signed up. I paid for the class. I expected to be taught to, you know, sew.
First class, I walk in and sit down and not two seconds pass before one of the "advaced" students (read: middle-aged house wives who have nothing better to do than take Sewing 1 over and over again, chat about their kids, and sew up some truly heinous "country crap" creations) pulled out a project to show to her friends. "Look what I finished yesterday! It's for my kitchen!" she squealed, and her friends all cooed in rapture. It was a stuffed cow. And it was wearing a home-made frilly floral dress.
I should have taken that as a sign.
This class gave no informative instruction; we had to pick our own projects and figure them out ourselves. The teacher interacted with us when asked for help. Said teacher was this stuck-up old bat who took a dislike to me the moment I asked her to explain how to hand-baste (I said I can't sew!). After that, she started staring at me strangely after I spoke, then after a long pause she'd say something like "okaaay..." or "right..." or sometimes "I see..." Example: she came to my work table and asked what project I was starting. I happily replied, "It's a simple bag to carry around my knitting projects! It's just a square with two handles" She did the staring thing, then said, "okay...so...it will be just like your purse there." She pointed to a little purse I'd made at home that weekend. "Yep," I replied, smiling, "but it will be bigger, of course." She stared at me like a foreign creature for a moment, then turned and old-lady-shuffled off. (Call me wrong, but I always thought teachers should encourage their students, not turn away in disgust.)
By the third class, I had realized that we weren't being taught anything, and we weren't going to be taught anything. All the sewing info I'd received during those weeks was from my mum, when I'd nag her into showing me something. At the start of that third class, sitting there among boring housewives at least fifteen years my seniors (the other three beginners had dropped out by this time), it suddenly struck me that I was in a sewing circle, a goddamned sewing circle. I was being ignored by a bunch of ugly old ladies with nothing more interesting in their lives than their children. And I was doing nothing there that I couldn't do at home.
I gathered my stuff, stood up, and, giving the teacher a look of disgust, walked out the door.
I just wrote a very nasty letter to the adult-ed chairman.
And it's making me feel like a rebel with a Billy-Idol-sneer. Which is so very sad.

Ducks!

In springtime Japan, many folks like to throw and attend hanami (cherry blossom viewing parties). Well, I have my own spring tradition: Duck-for-me (baby duck voyeur excursions). I'm not very good at the timing, though; I usually go too early or too late.
But this year I hit it right on the nose! I was awash in fluffy duck cuteness! It's taken me, what, two months to load up the pics, but here's some quackers for y'all.



The park also has a really nice rose garden, so I checked that out too. Despite the fact that three years in the wedding business left me with little excitement for said ceremonies, even I gotta say that this would be a gorgeous place to get hitched.



This shot makes me think of the Secret Garden.



See that lady towards the left of this pic? She and her adult daughter(?) kept giving me dirty looks. I suspect they thought I was a possible pedophile photographing the little kids who were with them. They wouldn't let the kids go into whichever area of the garden I was in at the moment.


The enlightening signs in this park are great. This sign, for example, informed me that I was in the "Rose Garden," which helped dispel my notions that I was in, say, the lake.

Scrub-a-dub-dub, I wish there was a man in my tub.

Time for some product love, aka unpaid product plugging. I think I mentioned before that I have a fetish for exfoliating, and I've finally found a product I really like.
Super Minty Soap 'n' Scrub by Bliss is freakin' awesome. Yes, it exfoliates really well, but what makes me a fan is the sweet, sweet mint action. Smells great, and gives you this wonderful cooling tingle all over (much appreciated, as I have no air conditioning right now). It also suds up like a soap for extra fun and cleansing bliss. While I'm not so sure about the "energizing" claim, the minty goodness does perk me up a bit.
It was more expensive than I liked, at about $30, but I think it was worth it. Maybe when I run out, I'll try to make my own imitation. Still, this stuff is Lainey-approved and recommend.

Scrubalicious.

Laziness, Vacation-ness, and PackRat-edness

Been back for a week now. D-Land was totally fun, but it was really weird to go down there without the usual D-land posse and ginger snaps (I brought Teddy Grahams for old time's sake). It was doubly weird not to be going for Expo, and the hotel room seemed bare without the costumes, refrigerator, and Expo paraphernalia. Which is not to say I didn't have a blast; I did, though, as usual, I bought a bunch of overpriced crap that I don't really need. And as usual, I probably annoyed the living hell out of my poor roommate (I don't think I'm an easy person to tolerate for short periods of time, let alone live with). But I still love me some vacations with friends.

Since the return from the magic kingdom, I've been slobbing around, putting off signing up for summer classes, and trying to find the enthusiasm to clean my den of rooms. I want to get rid of (or put in storage) everything I don't use regularly. I decided to start with the powder room, since it's much smaller and, theoretically, easier. This is me we're talking about, however, and I know I'm lazy about, well, almost everything. When I'm running low on shampoo, lotion, etc., I of course go out to buy a new bottle to have when the last of the old stuff runs out. But often I start right in on the new one, and the old one sits there for a while until I use it or pour it into the new bottle. Sometimes, I never get around to doing that, and the two drops that are "too much to throw away!" sit unnoticed in a dark corner. I knew there would be some of these Forgotten Ones in the cabinet. I also knew there would be some bottles of products that I bought at some point or another and didn't like, but, being the major packrat I am, felt it would be a waste to throw away (over half a container!).
Little did I suspect the true horror awaiting me.
I had so many Nearly Empties in there that I disgusted myself. Here's just a whiff:



All told, I disposed of about twenty or twenty-five bottles of basically nothing, some of which were years old. Included were a few bottles of Stuff I Tried But The Shit Didn't Work (all hair products). Among these was a bottle of "Super Straight Hair" shampoo, which I bought when I was about twelve or thirteen, and naively assumed that it would do as advertised, and that I could have normal, beautiful hair. I think the instant when I saw that my hair was as frizzy and curly as ever and realized that those bastards had LIED to me was the moment I lost my faith in mankind. We lie to desperate Curly Girls; we are all going straight to hell in a hand basket. Anyway, the stuff used to be a lovely light lavender color, but look at what ten years in a dark cupboard have done to it:




Ewww.
On the plus side, the room is very clean, empty, and probably healthier now.
Two rooms to go.

Nyah Nyah

Didn't fit in a real update this week, did I? Oh, well.
Just wanted to say that as of tomorrow, I will be here:



...And you won't.

See you in a week!