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Meh!

Back to the doc’s on Thursday.

 

Oh,  snap.

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(Posting between making spaghetti. If I get tomato sauce on the keyboard, forgive me)

You know, there’s just no pleasing me as far as the weather goes.    So in the spirit of silliness and good humour, here’s the official Tee Guide To Fargo Weather. Please take this with as big a pinch of salt as I just chucked into the pan of water.

There are, in general, two seasons of weather in North Dakota. F’cking Hot, and F’cking Cold.

November, December, January, February, March:    Lots of snow, ice,  more snow, more snow than that even, lots of slipping on one’s bum on the occasional day where it gets above zero, because when that happens what do you get?  More ice!     Granted, I almost managed to get through the entire season without doing that more than three times, which is quite the accomplishment.    And it can get as cold as -35. That’s Thirty Five Below Zero.     Sometimes without the wind-chill.     I’m not 100% sure but I’m fairly certain that in some countries, those temperatures are illegal.

April:     One really nice week of weather!     Lovely.    Around 58 degrees.    Easy, breezy lovely weather.    The other three weeks blow.

May:      Sometimes snow, sometimes in the 80s.      It’s our “schizophrenic” month, and May just can’t seem to decide whether it wants to be in the FH or FC category.   It can, and will, snow in May here….sometimes within days of a scorching 80-degree day of hellfire.    I think that is on purpose, though I have no proof of this terrible and wicked conspiracy.

June, July, Aug, Sept:  Temps between 75-100,  with humidity higher than..well, the proverbial high thingy.     Mosquitoes, flat hair, flooding, tornadoes, thunder storms, lightning strikes, the occasional blessed night of “less than 80 degrees oh thank you lawdy”.    Oh, and just to mess with you even more,  it can suddenly drop to 45 degrees.

October:     Again, one nice week of weather.     A lovely 63 or so degrees.      The other three weeks do, of course, suck.     Think of October as May’s slightly crankier younger brother, and with more stubbornness because October doesn’t want to leave summer behind…yet at the same time, wants to rush headlong into…you guessed it…

Winter again!

You know,  for the longest time I haven’t been able to fully comprehend how you can have nipplewithering cold (don’t you think that sounds like it should be a small village in England? No? Must be just me) weather and balldroppingly hot weather (which is obviously one village over from the previous) in the same state.   It’s just not right.     Pick one already!    You shouldn’t be able to get frostbite and heatstroke in the same state.

Grumble grumble grumble.

Ok, I’m done whining.

Spaghetti, anyone?

Edit: I think there might’ve been a critter in the package of spaghetti. I’m going to go with the “if I can’t see it, I can’t taste it” school of denial, thank you very much.    Plus, it’s protein.   Right?

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Look.

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.

Meh!

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Childhoodishness

Something else from my childhood….

You might be familiar with the song, “Go tell it on the mountain”, that old favourite hymn?

Well, I was a strange little kid (no, really).   Until I was about 10, I thought the song was about an antelope-type creature (which would “creech” across the land obviously, “creeching” being what “creatures” did…right?   creatures must creech…right?!?!?!  ) called a Tellet.    I thought the song was a bit strange, because it was sort of telling the Tellet to run away from Jesus.

“Go, Tellet-on-the-mountain, Go!”

Or maybe it was to tell the other Tellets that Jesus was coming?   I never did figure out that part.

What does a Tellet look like anyway?    Hrm.

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Ladies and Gentlemen…

…allow me to present….my ovary!

My ex-husband just emailed this pic to me.    I’m not sure how to feel about that but in the spirit of sharing…here we go!

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My pla-centenary

So there I was, having found a weird bottle of hair doo-dad in the cupboard in the bathroom.  It’d obviously been there awhile, being covered in dust and old spider housing units.

I used it, of course, and it did make my hair fabulously curly and really shiny.    And it contained placenta!    I’m pretty ok with this, I really am.    Because I figured  “Ah, must be sheep placenta or summat”.
No.  No, it wasn’t.  I know this because I read the label, afterwards.

“Contains no animal products”.

?!?!?!?!?!?!

Um…..do I have some sort of black-market hair product lying in the midst of my dusty cupboard?!?!

Is this legal?  Will I be arrested?  What would the charge be?!?!  “Unlawful use of baby by-products”?

Ye gods.

I think I’m still traumatised.

(Despite coming from a country where people do occasionally eat the placenta of their newborns;  I’ve been Americanized for the past 12 years, remember…)

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Curry

Today was a day of discovery.

Law & Order  “Trial By Jury” is utter pants.   Now I understand why it was cancelled so quickly.

It can, and will, snow in Fargo during the month of May.  This is most annoying.  If I thought I’d be able to pull it off, I’d file a class action lawsuit against whoever’s responsible for it snowing in May.  C’mon…that HAS to be illegal, right?!

There has to be a law against it snowing in May.   Unless you’re in t’other hemisphere.  Which I’m not.

A nicely packaged copy of PlayBoy arrived in the mail today, addressed to Rob.   This has me curious.

Is there a mysterious benefactor out there?    Did Rob send off for it eons ago and it only just arrived?   I mean don’t get me wrong – I like PlayBoy as much, or probably more, than Rob ever did…but still.   It’s a bit weird.   Eerie.

And, I make curry entirely too often.  I found Patak’s curry sauce at the local health food store (!) and since then have had curried shrimp fried rice (home-made.  Because yeah, I’m that good!), far too many times.

Brown Rice $2
Shrimp $5.
Curry $2
Your apartment stinking to high heaven for weeks afterwards:   Priceless.

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