Archive for February, 2010

Today was:

Goodwill (SCORE!  sweater, four shirts, one skirt – less than $20, and it was also for a good cause!).

K-Fart (sorry, -Mart), with too many kids whose parents couldn’t control ’em.

Dollar Store, because those places rock and I can get cheap Nag Champa incense.

We did lunch at one of those chain “fast food” Asian food places (which was actually very good, and very cheap).

Kids are fine.    Ish.     Well, as fine as can be expected given the circumstances.

US time!   Yay us!


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I have just bought the final three Pibgorn books for J – HOORAY!!!!!!!

It’s been so long since we’ve been able to afford anything vaguely frivolous, but thanks to the IRS (and yes, I really DID frame that confounded apology letter – no less than FIVE apologies were contained within that five-paragraph missive), we now have a bit of a cushion and everything is back in order.

“Relief” doesn’t quite touch on it.

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Slippin’ her a Mickey

I have a stoned puppy.

Puppy has epilepsy.     Puppy needs to take barbiturates.    Puppy currently wandering around with this “Moooooooooooom…dya gonna go get me some Funyuns?    Mebbe some Pringles and some Mountain Dooooooooooo?” thing going on.      She’s taken to sitting outside on the porch, looking up at the sky, like “woooooooooow….the sky’s so perdy…all greeen….and pink….and wowwww…there’s a magic dragon…….”.      For hours.

She’s been on the meds for about a week now,    so it’ll be another couple of weeks before the side effects start to taper off.       I do hope it’s a bit sooner because much as she’s giving us major comic relief at the moment, she’s just not…well…herself.

I wants mah puppeh back!

(This is a pic of Angel when she was a widdle, widdle puppeh)

See?   She’s always kind of had a bit of a “HIIIIII  Iz a bit stooooned!”  look on her face!

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Horror Movie Haiku (!)

J-Horror scares me

Disarticulated joints

And that long black hair….

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I DO  NOT look like Nicole Richie.  No matter what.   Under no circumstances.

Just because I have a photog friend who likes to use me as a guinea pig does not mean that I look like Nicole Richie.


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(old grief journal entry)

So much for the funny, intelligent post.

I’m just feeling so bloody sad.   Not depressed, per se.

Just awfully sad.

Om mani padme hum.    And yes, this too shall pass.

But when?   I don’t think I have any tears left.

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Widda Haiku

(old grief journal post)

Scattered in the wind

And yet you are beside me

I will not forget.

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