22 February, 2017

checking in

all is fine...ish.

doing US taxes:
makes me swear in polish. very few things make me swear in polish. paperwork of the tax variety does it and does it thoroughly. i've come up with some interesting combinations that would make my dad's ears fall off, i'm sure. he'd say, ladies don't use that kind of language, but who the hell is a lady around here? it's an antiquated concept anyways. normally i self-censor because i seriously hate it when people swear in polish. oddly enough, i have no such problems with swearing in english. you may or may not have noticed this.

today's food intake:
a big bowl of strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries with really really good yogurt (low fat and fat free dairy products can fuck right off: pseudo-healthy bullshit based on outdated science that also taste like shit.)
½ bowl of cheerios
½ bowl of cheerio dust-flavoured milk
several miniature peppers filled with hummus
glass of bourbon on ice
bowl of blackberries

all the berries are really good right about now. i seem to not be hungry much. i blame the taxes and swearing. and maybe my latest meds.

social media:
the attention span that's been growing back after i'd given up on facebook seems to be in remission, since i am currently obsessed with waging war on twitter. i.e. waging war whilst on twitter, not waging war against twitter, though i might reconsider if i continue to obsessively waste my time preaching to the choir while america regresses into lower and lower and ever more colourful but increasingly terrifying levels of idiocy and what-the-ever-living-fuckness.

tweeting gives me the illusion of being in touch, of doing something, of being an active member of the #resistance, but damned if i believe that i'm changing any minds out there. trumpnation's  unfailing ability to look incontrovertible facts in the face and still kick them under the filth-encrusted mattress of ideology for the sake of convenience is as incomprehensible as it is reprehensible. i'm supposed to want to understand them. i don't. i want them to fucking stop lying. the end.

i've said it before and i'll say it again - for this reason, and this reason alone, i hope god exists, just so those filthy hypocrites can get their comeuppance in hell, where they rightfully belong.

whoa - a little brimstoney there, wasn't i? oh well. between the taxes, the limited food intake, and the political situation, it's surprising i'm still functioning fairly well.

following lucy's goodbye post, i felt myself slipping away from this here little page. i feel like all i ever do here is complain and whine and cry and weep and gnash my teeth while rending my clothes and pouring ashes on my head. not every day, mind, but often enough that i feel like there is nothing really that i can say that will add to the sum total of cool shit out in the world.

so why post today? i blame the bourbon. frankly, i thought today's food intake in itself was interesting enough to warrant a blog post. so there you have it. i'll take "what i ate today" for 200, alec!

not saying goodbye, just saying i'll see ya around. i will continue to write shit when shit demands to be written. and in the meantime, hey, take care of yourselves; hang in there. the world will either right itself or we're in for a sweet little apocalypse and y'all know i'm excited about that!

03 February, 2017



mr. monkey's family is here - mother in law, sister in law and two wee nephews. because of how many of us there are and the volvobeaste's spatial limitations, we decided to rent a minivan for familial weekend trips. alas, hotwire royally messed up our reservation which, coupled with the super bowl that's on this weekend, meant no minivan for us, which translates to alone time for me while mr. monkey takes his family out to see the alligators, the zoo, NASA, and the gulf while i sit and read in peaceful and much needed solitude.

it's been a good visit so far (my deep fear leading up to it meant my expectations were niiiiice and low) although there have been moments where i seriously considered murder*. the high point of the visit is easy to pinpoint: the wee one, the 2-and-a-bit-year-old, is cute as hell and he and i have gotten a schtick that goes something like this:

moi: platypus!
j: no, YOU're the platypus!
moi: no, YOU're the platypus!
j: no, YOU're the platypus!
moi: no, YOU're the platypus!
j: no, YOU're the platypus!

we can (and do) go on at length, both of us highly entertained. if i start off whispering, he'll whisper it back at me. if i yell, he'll yell. if i speak in polish, he'll revert to polish. the way he says platypus is something to behold and it makes me want to eat his adorable round head even more.


the day mr. monkey's family leaves is the day my dad arrives, driving down a car my parents are generously giving me. he will run a marathon (my dad never ever travels without running a marathon; thinks it's indecent or something) and take off several days later. a couple days after that, mr. monkey and i go off to new orleans for mardi gras and then, on the day we return, i just found out my cousin, his wife, and their three children are flying in and staying for 2 weeks. this means that from january 28 until march 9, we will essentially be non-stop hosting or guesting. the rate things are going, i suspect somebody else will announce their arrival on march 10, but that's ok. as long as i get some down time, i'm good... i think.

*yes, it was the 4 year old almost every time. how'd you guess?