Check out my cookies

Here is a big surprise, Sugar is a big part of my holidays!

My family communicates with cakes and cookies. Check out my blog on our Christmas Cookie tradition, culled from the pages of a 1960's magazine called "Farm Wife".

I hope everybody has a happy, sugar-filled holiday.

RIP Pushing Daisies

The best show in the past two years just got canned, quietly and quickly. Pushing Daisies is now off the air. At least I'm assuming that I have just watched the last episode. The show has definitely been cancelled and there was no "Next time on Pushing Daisies" bumper at the end of this weeks show like there usually is. It's a harshing my Christmas buzz.

I was addicted to the show quickly after it debuted. The language was both clever and honest. It was modern and timeless and kinda like the Princess Bride meets the Thin Man. The writers were surely big fans of old Detective movies and radio shows. It is one show I always looked forward to watching. Our office organized a TV Thursday to watch Pushing Daisies eps and we'd swap off making pies to eat with our TV lunch. There is a buzz that the producers will wrap up the loose ends on PD with a comic book? Do they know their demographic? Maybe if they did, the show would have survived.

ABC also recently cancelled Boston Legal. Judging from the tenor of the last few episodes, Boston Legal did not go gently into that good night. BL was topical, funny and touching. It also had William Shatner, which was a cherry on the top-notch writing cupcake. While BL had it's share of naughty bits, it didn't focus on sex like a lot of other "lawyer"-y type shows and hospital dramas. It focused on story and character. Kinda like Pushing Daisies did. I'm going to miss that kind of intelligent writing.

I'm not one to campaign for TV shows (there are too many real problems in our crazy, mixed up world to take up my time.) I have the attitude of enjoy it while it's here and let it go when it gets axed. Plus, losing the good shows on TV is actually great for helping kick my addiction to TV. I would not have commented on either show, except that ABC decided to pour lemon juice into my wounds by showing a trailer for a new show, the same trailer followed the Series finales of Boston Legal and the Pushing Daisies ender.

The trailer was for a wretched, new reality steaming load about an "Inner Beauty" contest. To quote Emerson Cod, "A stupid idea just found a new friend." (For the record, I hate reality TV. The only reality show I've ever watched was "The Swan" which was wicked brilliant. Bunim-Murray's offices are directly across the street from our gym and I give it the bird every morning. They are responsible for starting reality TV, with The Real World, nearly 20 years ago. Ass Hats.)

So farewell PD and BL. You are in the excellent company of Arrested Development, Freaks & Geeks and a handful of other shows that were too good to get ad buys. It's true what they say, Only the good die young. (see Two & a Half Men, that mess will not die.)

First 5 Commentors get a beer on me

Hey Friend,

Check out my charity case on FierceAndNerdy.com. It you are burned out on buying and/or getting presents that end up in the back of your closet, check out my latest blogumn. It'll blow your mind, help heal the world and keep landfills from overflowing.

Plus, Also too, there is a nifty picture of me with my mouth so wide open, you can see my tonsils (If you view it today - 12/15/08)

Feel free to share your favorite charity on FaN and help them get some monies for the holidays!

The Good part of shopping

I've spent the last 2 Saturdays shopping for Christmas. After 2 Christmases of being able to shop on Weekdays, I had forgotten how sucky it is to be trapped in a Mall with consumers and cranky clerks. But the prices were right!

Here were the good things that happened while we were shopping:

1. The book "Breaking Bad News with Baby Animals" It is pricelessly precious and awful and funny. HIGHLY recommend as your Yankee Swap gift.

2. Helping an Old Lady. The place - Ghetto Target. The time - 9:13 a.m. on a Saturday. The subject - Carla the old lady who fell, face first onto the hard tile ground after her walker ran out too far in front of her. Seen and I helped her onto the walker seat and Seen went to get a wheelchair/helper while I sat and talked to Carla. No, she wasn't hurt in the fall. She has a cat named Grandma, an 8 month old mutt from the pound that her son brought her. Yes, she had a ride home as she lives in a nursing home and a bus dropped off a bunch of old shoppers and would be picking them up in a little while. We got Carla to the check-out ok. She was sitting in the lunch area with her cat food and wire hangers when we walked out later.

3. NPH sighting. To end our day of shopping, we went to JoAnne's on Riverside in the Valley to buy flannel and fleece. Mom is making us PJ Pants! While I was waiting in line, a blonde, skinny guy walked by me and I thought "was that NPH? naaahhh..." It was 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday. We're at a fabric store in the valley. naaahh. Then, as we walked our cozy fabric purchase to the car, Seen said "Did you see Neil Patrick Harris? He was right behind you." Whoa. Weird. Random. So Los Angeles.

Merry Christmas!

Surf Diva

I'm home sick, in bed, today and surrounded by kittens.

It's nothing too dramatic, just a cold. I am trying to not check emails or harass the people I work with too much. To stave off the boredom, I figured I'd go through all the Internet pages I'd bookmarked over the last 10 years or so and this fella to the left popped up. How could I not share this with you?

You are welcome.

Amy's Awesome Gym

I have two tickets to the gun show. Buy one, get one.

Actually, I'm feeling a little flabby after eating so much sugar, wheat and fat over Thanksgiving, so I chose to blog about my gym going habits (or aspirations)

Check out my latest Blogumn about Amy's Awesome Gym on FierceAndNerdy.com

If you leave a comment, I'll buy you a beer. (a very healthy beer)

(I can't believe I posted a picture of Hitler)

What's New Pussycat?

Well, not much really.

Just my BLOGUMN up on Fierce and Nerdy.com, that's all!

Yeah, I'm fabulous, but I'll still hang out with you and eat your left-over Halloween candy.

Visit my blog and leave a comment on why you think we heart our pets so much. And enjoy the picture of Ling Ling (aka Stinky Junior) as she graces my commentary.

Just to tug at your heart strings, here's the mythology of the origins of Stinkerbell:

I was absolutely resolved that we could not, WOULD NOT, have a 4th cat in our house, until…Until Ling Ling got chucked into our backyard one rainy November morning. The neighbors wrapped her in a t-shirt, opened our gate and tossed her on our back step, which is concrete by the way. She was 2 months and 2 pound, most of which was giant ears, HUGE kitten eyes right out of a black velvet painting and a knob at the end of her tail where it broke at a 90degree angle. I spent about 8 hours, that day, talking to people and trying to find her a “good home”. Seen was working at home that day and decided we would give her a "good home". She’s now 3 and weighs 14 pounds and I could not image life without her. (I’m not just saying that because she’s lying across my hand right now, making it hard for me to type.)

If you have room in your home, adopt a shelter cat (or doggy if you like) Cats greatly outnumber dogs in shelters. The Humane Society has declared a Cat Crisis due to the disparity. If you have room, open your heart to one great experience.

I am always right

Look, I admit that on occasion I get irritable with phone customer service people. It doesn't happen too often. I normally try to understand that they are doing a job and most days I do my best to brighten their day and make them laugh. There are times, tho, when the agent is a douche. Douches work in a lot of professions, some even work in my office! (You know who you are, and where did you find out about my blog??)

My nephew opened my eyes to this blog written by customer service people:

http://notalwaysright.com/

Hopefully I'm never as annoying, stupid, pushy, irritable or plain rude as the people who make this site. God FORBID I ever read about myself there.

Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog - Call Me Jeremiah

I'm not sure of what I just got myself into here. Ever the joiner, when Thommy, of my offices "party planning committee", said he and the other Aimee were going to be caroling for our Xmas event, I chirped "I'll carol with you!!" I love Christmas songs, they're timeless, universal, cheesy. Aimee and Thommy are singers who have used their voices to sing, like for people, recently. I believe Aimee has auditioned for singing parts and is on albums and stuff.

Thommy wrote me note later, asking what part I sang. Years ago, we're talking decades, I was an alto. When I first moved to Chicago, I would sing in open mikes and jams around town, desperately trying to channel Sarah Vaughn. I was invited back to sing at a few bars, (can't remember the name of the places, like the Green Door or the Red Mill. Like I says, decades ago...) My voice was in pretty good shape, so I didn't butcher the standards too much. I also managed to catch a band and a husband while singing.

So Thommy asked if I'd do a solo. Joiner me responds, "What the Hell. Sure."

I'm sooo in over my head.

I played the CD of carols we'll be singing in the car on the commute home tonight. I sang along with the 2 songs I thought I might pull off. Lordy, lordy, my voice is now reminiscent of a goose with a head-cold. Vocally, I am out of shape and I won't even embarrass myself relating my struggle to find the correct key to sing in.

The carollers will be rehearsing several times before the Christmas event. What're the odds my voice can be toned and fit within a month?

This could be an epic fail. I just hope it isn't sad, but hilarious.

Just Fine

Hey kids,

It's been awhile. I'm so sorry I've been neglecting you and I don't even have the excuse of children distracting me. That's what I kinda wrote about on this installment of my blogumn on FierceAndNerdy.com. Read it, comment, love me.

In other news, I'm a big fan of this guys comic strip - We The Robots - also, I'm tired.

Your Lady Blog

Little Stinky Junior Loves Fierce and Nerdy

No Happy Ending

Remember when I said that if you get a bad massage it's your own fault? I told you that you need to talk to your therapist and tell them "firmer" or "lighter", whichever you need. I just couldn't fathom getting a bad massage.

I just got a bad massage.

As a former therapist I know a few rules, always move toward the heart, never pinch, cut your nails, don't move the muscle toward the bone. At the spa chain I just visited, I was assigned a 5Ft Nuthin therapist. Massage taught me that tiny ladies usually like deeper massage and big folks like more gentle relaxation.

I asked for a simple swedish, which should just consist of something called effleurage (basically the long stroke rubbing, not going deep into the muscle). We discussed what I wanted, how deep I wanted it, where, etc...

This therapist moved around my body in an odd way, didn't do any effleurage. None. Zero. She was all about DEEP and not any type of deep tissue method I'd learned. She utilized a technique that seemed more "Poke, pinch and jiggle" I know how to say "lighter, or heavier" but I don't know how to say "WTF are you doing??" or "Dude, a toddler gives a better massage". So I suffered through it. As she was working on pinching my calves, yes pinching (and she her nails were digging into me a little, and I'm checking for bruises now) I was reminded of last June, when I spent 4 hours in a dental chair with a non-novacained nerve that later turned into a root-canal. If a massage reminds you of that kind of dentist pain, it's clearly a bad massage.

After the therapist poked and prodded at my neck at the end of the torture, she then tried to sell me on scheduling more or maybe getting the annual membership. Even if she'd been a good rub-er, at the end of the massage you should gently say "We're done, take your time, I'll be in the lobby with water..."

I have probably given some bad massages in my day, but I whole-heartedly believe none of them were this awful. I never pinched and always effleuraged (I made a word:) ) I once knew a therapist who's technique and demeanor was so perfect for me! Sadly, she left the state. The therapist that got away. Now I need to find someone who won't make me worse when all I want is to relax.

I'm busy being delicious

If you've spent any time with me what-so-ever, you are aware that I am both attracted to and repelled by sugar. My mother was an amazing baker of cookies, pies, cakes and all things that mix flour, sugar and fat. (She also has a huge garden with lots of fresh produce, but I like sugar better.) So baked goods represent family and love and comfort. BUTT sugar also makes me cranky, zitty and tubby.

Now on Fierce and Nerdy - Read all about the Sugar Clique at my office and my struggle for power of the monkey on my back that is made entirely of marzipan.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm busy being delicious

Book' em Danno

Hey babies,

Oooooh yeah, I watched some WKRP in Cincinnati weekend. I do miss Venus Fly-Trap and Andy's male camel toe. But that's not all the news that's fit to print.

I've got another article up on FierceAndNerdy.com today (my Blogumn - Tall Drink of Nerd). It's kind of about trying to buy a book at the airport. I know you've been there, maybe in Cincinnati!

Smootches

Sunday

I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get anything done this afternoon. I am supposed to be writing something for FierceAndNerdy.com, but I'm feeling hella lazy and procrastinating.

I'm sleepy because I woke up at 7:00ish this morning smelling smoke and wondering if the house was on fire. Sean and I wandered around inside and outside our house, in our robes, looking for flame or any other indication of fire until I thought of maybe turning on the TV to see if any hillsides were smokin'. Sure enough, Tujunga was on fire. The winds were strong and blowing the smoke and ash east towards us in a very powerful way.

We were up for good and very shortly full of delicious Sean-made french toasts. Time had come to plant veggies. Now the earth that we(I) have to plant in is hard, clay, difficult to hoe and/or dig in. So I wasted water to muddy the strip of land to diggable standards and now have planted 2 tomato plants (Roma and Beefsteak), one strawberry plant, 6 celery, 6 onion and one rosemary bushshrub. Also trying my hand at basil in a container again, but don't have high hopes as I've already murdered about 1/2 dozen of those over the past 5 years.

I'm also sleepy because it's moderately chilly outside and it's very quiet inside. Only the occasional noise of crystal windchimes on the patio or a plane flying very high above breaks the silence. The cats are scattered around the guest room in various states of repose. Munchy is snoring on her pillow in the sunshine, KoE and Lingers are vying for a spot on the afghan that covers the lower half of the bed. After a hella stressful week, I do believe I'll procrastinate my blogumn for a few more hours, grab the fantastic book I'm reading and tuck myself between kitties for a well deserved break from work-type-stuffs.

Three Legged Kitties and Tall Drink O' Nerd

Tall Drink O' Nerd, that's me.

Ernessa has graced me with another blog opportunity. No poop this time, but lots of scoop on how awesome the Public Library is!

Check me out at Fierceandnerdy.com

I was so bummed that I was too sick yesterday to go to the West Hollywood book fair. I caught a stupid cold on Thursday which turned epic in proportion by the weekend, forcing me to do basically nothing but suffer and heal.

The only thing I did aside from blowing my nose constantly and talking like a man while surrounded by used tissues and watching really bad movies on cable was visit the kitty rescue on Saturday to see Annabelle.

Annie is now a three legged kitty with a little nub for her left front leg. She's about 3 times the size she was when I found her, but she's glossy and happy and healthy and so friggin adorable. I got to hold her for about 4 minutes at the PetCo where the rescue was showing kitties for adoption. No crying this time! Seen said he was worried for a minute that I wouldn't let her go (I almost didn't). She's available for adoption, but our Munchy (16 years old with IBD) gets really sick with any change or stress so we can't, just can't bring any new critters into the house. She's so cute, she was probably adopted Saturday. I'm just thrilled she has a great foster mom and is acting like a regular cat.

A happy ending for the kitty!

And in Other News...The Pope is Catholic

I heard, on AM radio and then the morning news that Clay Aiken has announced that he is gay. That's totally, "whatever" news, and I'm not one to ever, ever judge how a person lives their life. But it just made me chuckle that it was deemed news yesterday. Maybe the media decided we needed a little break from the scary, run-screaming, pull your hair out, Blank-Check Paulson news that's been overtaking us lately.

Thanks media, consider that goal accomplished!

ETC is Fierce and Nerdy

Aloha fair travelers on the series of tubes that form the Internets.

A wonderful chick I know named Ernessa has started a very cool website called "Fierce and Nerdy" and she has asked me to contribute. I was absolutely flattered and happy to.

My first post landed today and it's about Cat Poo. So if you like me or Cat Poo, or just an awesome fun blog-site, check out Fierceandnerdy.com

Kisses**

Touch my Monkeys

Hey folks!

Awhile a go, let's say about a year or so, I wrote a silly poem about monkeys that I then had my sister Janet illustrate. She did a lot of work, research and edits on the illustrations, I did a few re-writes and dealt with the frustration of an online publisher and with a few bad printings. We initially gave the printed version of the books to my great nieces and nephews as Christmas presents last year. Seen thinks the book is so awesome that we should share it's brilliance with the world at large. He's my biggest fan :)

So you can buy my Monkeys now! The book is for sale on Lulu.com. 10% of the profits will to go a local animal rescue. The other 90% will go towards beers.

Long Distance Dedication

This post is for Aimee, who has the same name as me, but she spells hers the fancy way. She told me "I'll delete you from my links if you don't blog within 6 months." I take that challenge very seriously! (not as seriously as the Special K challenge, for which I will choose as my weapon - Pistols at Dawn!!)

So this blog is for Aimee, even though nothin much is goin on and my opinions are being muted by the noise from the campaigns. The campaign about issues and the other campaign about pointless noise. I shall not blog about politics. I shall not blog about politics. I shall not blog about politics**

**My family has utterly different political views than I do. I love my family and political BS is not worth the cost of upsetting or getting upset with family. Plus the Henry's do NOT do conflict well. We're more hide in the hole until the Sabre Tooth passes kind o folks.

So I'll just blog a little for Aimee. Hi Aimee! I like Boston Cream Pie too, but I don't really care for HSM, (maybe I do, I've just never seen it...) Let's go eat some Hot Wings!

For Aimee
From Amy

Helping Annie

Hey Everybody!

The 6 week old kitten I pulled out of traffic (aka Road Kitty, aka Annie) and gave to a rescue organization is getting an operation!

http://www.active.com/donate/happystrays/Annie

I'm still in touch with the rescue, because I think Annie is an awesome cat and deserves a chance at a normal happy life. Carrie, who is an amazingly sweet person let me know about Annie's condition. Turns out that lame arm of hers was shattered when she was hit by the car. It's useless, in the way and can't be all that great to lug around. The vet has decided to remove the useless leg. Annie is in a very caring foster home and will be okay once the operation is over. Happy Strays is looking to raise enough money to cover the procedure. They are a bonafide Charity, you can donate to them in a million ways, just check their site: HappyStrays.org

BUT - if you would like to help little Road Kitty heal, you can donate directly to her cause on this page:

http://www.active.com/donate/happystrays/Annie

Even though she's living elsewhere, I feel responsible for the life of this little creature and would love it you could donate whatever you can, even a little bit helps. Just think if 25 people donate $20, we're halfway home! If you are out of moolah, pass the word and let your friends, neighbors, co-workers, etc. help out on this one too!

As my niece says "Handicapped Kittens are even more adorable..."

Ya gotta, Accentuate thee positive

Good things are afoot ladies n' gentlemen:

Munchy is done with antibiotics for her UTI. Yay.

We have blocked all holes/entry into our home so the mice shouldn't be able to find their way in (fingers crossed) So we won't have to pay the exterminator $879 just for stinkin mice removal. Yay.

My vertigo is gone. Yay.

My Dad is in better spirits and health (Still has disease, still in midst of chemo, but acting/feeling much better than 2 weeks ago.) Yay!

Kitty I found in the street has a nice Foster Mom who named the kitty Annie. Annie is spunky but may lose her useless front leg. Let's yay the spunky part and the part where if I would have been 2 minutes later, Annie wouldn't have been at all. So Yay.

Seen and I are gainfully employed in a tough economy. Yay.

Seen and I have a home to live in, for now. Yay.

Seen is my husband. Yay to infinity!

I get to teach writing workshops with fun people who I like. Yay.

So let's put the drama behind us, shall we? If just to breathe easy for a minute.

Enchanted

Eeek a Mouse!!

We have mice. At least I hope it's mice and not rats. I took the trash out of it's spot under the kitchen sink last night and saw little brown sprinkles.

I said "Honey, come look at this..." And Sean said

"We have mice"

Yup, little brown mouse turd sprinkles all over the cupboard under my kitchen sink. EWWWWWWWW. Dude. Ewwwwww. I cleaned it out with bleach, but this morning, little sprinkles down there again.

Greenleaf Organic Pest control is coming out today to see how we can get rid of the jerks. I would LOVE to have them sing and dance with me and make me a dress and serve as coachmen when my Fairy Godmother sets me up for the big Ball, but... I have doubts that I could convince the mice of such fanciful stuff.

WARNING - This Post is a Downer

2008 shall forever been known as the year that my heart keeps breaking. It seems so very long since I have walked without the weight of grief strapping its arms around my calves and sitting it's cold butt on my feet. I have had moments of laughter and clear appreciation of a cool cinnamon scented breeze, but for the most part, my heart is filled with heavy, slippery, poisonous mercury.

My grief started with the sickness of Weasel. She threw-up, constantly. A small grey cat, she never weighed more than 6.5 lbs, but her weight went down to 4 lbs and we knew she was very sick. She stopped eating on a Tuesday in May, a visit to the vet and IV fluids didn't help, and by Saturday, she was weak and shaking and throwing up regularly. The at-home vet came on Sunday and helped us to decide that it was time for our amazing friend of 16 years to rest. Her whole life she wanted attention, always greeting us at the door demanding to be picked up. Always tapping me on the shoulder when my alarm failed to go off, waking me in time for work. She was the cat who paced impatiently, waiting for me to sit and watch a movie so she could curl up on my lap. We still miss her tremendously.

Then in June, my Dad got sick. He got really sick, like take-care-of-your-affairs-sick. He has a rare blood disease called MDS (mydadhasMDS.blogspot.com) He just finished his second round of chemo and is still in the hospital 2 weeks later. All I want to do is be with him and Mom, but they live in CO and I live in CA, so I sit and worry from afar and hold any positive thoughts in my head and heart, which is still broken.

And just as we started to heal from losing Weasel, I found a kitten. It was a hurt grey kitten, just sitting in a very busy traffic lane where I stopped my car (and traffic), chased her as she tried to run with only 3 functioning legs, freed her from the web of branches on the median and drove her to the closest vet I could think of. "Do you accept financial responsibility" they said. What option did I have? To save this tiny creature from getting run over only to have a vet put her under? Of course I accepted financial responsibility (in a time when I have been berating my spouse about not spending any extra money because we have a balloon payment coming.) Of course I agreed to foster her until we find a home. Turned out she had a cracked jaw and a leg that didn't work, maybe temporarily, maybe permanently. She came home with me the day after. She was so tired and hungry, she ate almost a whole can of food and passed out, but within 2 hours she woke up, yelling at me, running around the spare room that we had removed all dangerous furniture from and finally snuggling up next to me with a throaty purr whenever I touched her still dirty fur to move her useless leg into a better position.

I washed her with a warm cloth, and held her tiny body in a towel as she dried. But I could not take care of her. Her bad leg dragged behind her, she didn't seem to know it was there, couldn't control it at all from the shoulder down. Then she pooped. All down her hurt leg, all over her back leg, granted she used the litter box, but she was a mess, top to bottom. I realized I was in no position to care for her. We couldn't leave her alone all day when we were at work. If I needed to go to CO to see my Dad, what would become of this injured kitten in a house with three other larger, crankier cats. We had to give her to someone who could help her more than we could. It broke my heart again, opened up the wound of losing Weasel,made me feel inadequate and selfish. We gave her to HappyStrays.org. They were very sweet and understanding (I spoke to a woman at Heaven on Earth cat rescue who made me feel guilty for trying to find her a better foster. That woman was a jerk.) Happy Strays is run by a friend of a co-worker and they couldn't have been nicer. They took Grey Kitty's medicine, paperwork, history and hugged me as I blubbered through the way I found her and why we couldn't keep her.

So my heart is broken again, for the poor handicapped kitten, for my sick Father and my Mother who has to care for him so patiently, still for my lost Weasel.

2008, the year my heart keeps breaking.

Monsters Are Waiting

There is a monster in my office. I can’t see him, but I feel him there. When I sit down, he pokes his cold purple talons into my brain and whispers horrible, monster things to me.

“You’re stupid.” He says.

“That story doesn't make any sense.” He sighs, curling his invisible lizard body in my lap and wrapping his slimy tail of doubt around me.

I’m lucky he let me come in this room at all today. He is possessive of his futon. Most days he keeps his force-field up. It is a heavy shield that snakes all through the house. It is filled with undone laundry and dirty dishes, with unchecked e-mails and phones calls that need to be placed. The strong center of this shield has a crest that reads “There must be something good to watch on TV.”

Though he’s not terrifying, because we’ve played together since we were young, I try to keep my distance. And there are days, when he runs out to get a quick cup of coffee, or his focus is shifted to encourage cat-on-cat violence, when I can sneak into my office and sit on my futon. I can work, if only for 10-15 minutes, until he finds me and tugs on my sweater or pinches my neck. Telling me to get out of this room and turn the sprinklers on.

Obituary

While looking through piles of family history stuff, researching for my grand plan to write about my Grand Ma, I found this obituary about some relative of mine who passed away in 1922. The lead-in is so awesome, I just had to share it:

"Christy Anna (Henry) Ralston:
Although for some time in feeble health, caused by her 71 years, she was not severely stricken with sickness until 8 days before her death. For the most of three days, as though weary from life's years and cares, she found rest in sleep. She slept peacefully and profoundly until, at length, she sank into the sleep that knows no awakening to this world's scenes and associations."

That is some fantastical flowery language. I absolutely LOVE it!

Gloriously Lazy

It's a glorious evening. The valley heat has calmed from 102 degrees down to a lovely 76. I'm a little tired, from working all day, from the residual vertigo that still makes the world spin and my ears achey, from being a lazy bum most of the weekend, but it's a glorious evening. Munchy has found the chair that I planted in front of my office window just for her during the office make-over this weekend. Occasionally a subtle breeze catches the wind-chimes on the other side of the porch and makes them twinkle before the night sidles through the window and strokes Munchy's ancient head. She raises her nose to catch a sniff of the outside, of the dirty Valley smog and the green and dusty air of newly cut grass that was burnt in the summer sun.

I've got work to do gentle blog reader, I have bio's to write, poems to find, dishes to wash. Also, I should be in bed by 9:30 to give myself time to wake up at 5ish and get my lazy, spreading ass into the gym. But I just want to sit and watch Munchy enjoying the breeze and my company. I want to flop into the hammock on the porch with Sean on one side, a beer in my hand and swap work stories. I want to meditate in the circular hum of crickets and loud Spanish shouting neighbors. Yup, I just want to be as ridiculously lazy as I have been for the past 3 days, a holiday weekend.

Ok, enough wishin'. Back to work.