Enough about me…

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Ze Frank has resurrected A Show, and the internet rejoices. Today's Show was about make believe:


This is something I've never had trouble with, much to the Spousal Unit's frequent consternation. For example, I am convinced the Custom House in downtown Portland is full of spies. Look at it:

Looming there with its stony edifice and its formal courtyard. Why do you think plans for the building continually fall through? Spies.

Then there was the time when we lived downtown and I'd hop the bus in the mornings for a short trip to work. One morning, I saw a handsome black gentleman, about 50, dressed in a dark turtleneck, charcoal slacks, and polished dress shoes. The Spousal Unit and I agreed he was quite sharp. The next day, there was another black man, very similarly dressed, with features very much like the fellow of the day before, except 20 years younger. Father and son? Of course not. It was the same man. When we saw him the day before, he'd obviously come from the future with a dire warning for his younger self. We never saw the older man again, though we saw the younger several times. See, his older self went back to the future.

Recently, the Spousal Unit and I were pulling a set of letterboxes I'd planted temporarily. Heading along the trail, he asked me where the turn was. I told him that according to my clues, it was at the castle ruins. He looked at me skeptically. Eventually, we came to a trail on the left, marked by a few overgrown slabs of concrete. "Castle ruins!" I said. She shook his head and said I had to be kidding. I harrumphed that it was perfectly obvious.

It's possible I have an excess of imagination, but I'm not giving it up.

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Yep, that's me, holding a juvenile alligator. As in, a young alligator, not an alligator who makes fart jokes.  My friend Anna volunteers for Hart's Reptile Rescue, so I had a bit of an in, and got to hold not only this beauty, but a lovely bearded dragon as well.  The Spousal Unit got thoroughly snuggled by a sweet Dumeril. She just settled right in. It was adorable. Hart's facebook album has a few more pics of us.

After snuggling critters, we headed off to the SE Portland Art Walk. We'll hit a few more tomorrow. Today, I glommed a "dog monster" from a favorite: James Derosso. He just started making these. Aren't they great?



I also found a spoon rest by Terry Batte. She made it from recycled windows. I loved the quiet beauty of the piece. Also, I'm a sucker for practical items that are also art. Sorry the photo is sub-par--glass is a pain to photograph!



Finally, I saw some jewelry I liked, but I admit I didn't buy a piece. I loved that it was different, that the design was so sharp, but I just wasn't sure it was something for me to wear. But it might be something for you to wear! Ana Eugenia hasn't updated her site yet with her new pieces, so here's a sample:



I was very tempted by some honeycomb-inspired rings.

So we're driving home, tired, and I'm thinking the only thing that could make this better is if I found a letterbox. Got home, and lo and behold, I had notification of a new local box in my email! Bill opted for the couch. It was a little further down the road than I thought, but still pretty close. I got first finder!

Supah-dupah day.

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About a week ago I had this brilliant idea.  I love to make things, but I suck at color, so wouldn't it be handy to have a color wheel tattooed on my arm?  The instant I thought it, it "stuck".  I knew this was the thing that had to be my second tattoo.  I wrote my friend Anna, who has amazing work, and asked her for a rec.  She sent me to the personable and talented Joe Bass.  I went in for a consult, and Joe quickly became one of my favorite people.  Even if I'd hated his work and walked away, I would have been glad to meet him, because he's just one of those people who makes your life richer.

A week later, I was on the bench.  For five hours.  Now Joe, he was fine.  He could have gone all night and finished this puppy, no problem.  Me, I admit I reached the end of my endurance, but I think I did okay having my flesh needle-felted for that long.  My first tat, probably because it's a tiny thing, hardly hurt.  This one?  Oh yeah, there was a great stinging for some of it.

I'm about halfway there, and go in again on the 27th.  I can't wait.  I keep staring at my arm.  From a distance, it looks like I'm wearing a piece of Victorian jewelry.  I'm in love with this thing.  Some stuff I learned about me and tattoos:

  • Though I took my Kindle, I read all of two pages.  I'd rather watch Joe work than read.
  • Long tat sessions are exhausting.
  • Roy Orbison isn't so bad after all.


I was going through an old password list, and found some pieces of my web self. Some of these may require registration for you to see my profile. Not long ago, this list would have included a Geocities page. C'mon, you had one too, admit it. The one constant has always been frykitty.com. I've been blogging here, frequently or not, for more than 10 years. I suppose this will do for a belated anniversary post. So here, like discarded bits of clothing leading through the house to the bedroom...

My Vox page, which is lovely to look at, but was never very useful to me.

The current mood of frykitty at www.imood.com Imood.  I am astonished this is still around.  Every time I find it again, I'm so charmed that I update rather than delete my account.

Cafepress.  Half of it was stuff I made on the fly for a work friend, and means nothing to anyone anymore.  The two frytopia items are from a design I miss very much, and should probably find a way to have again.  WordPress doesn't play well with just including the raw blog in a design.

Last.fm.  Dang, why haven't I been here in years and years?  I used to be absolutely addicted, and it's a cool thing.  Maybe I'll revive this one.

ICQ.  Bwahaha! I had to delete embarrassing stuff from my profile before I'd post this. I hate to chat, but once upon a time, this, IRC, and AIM were the only games in town.  I remember they used to have the absolute worst, most confusing site on the web.  It still kinda sucks.

Librarything. Don't get me wrong, I think this is a wonderful site; it just never meshed with the way I read.  I put a bunch of stuff in, but stopped a year or so ago.  Spending the time to log books got annoying. I still keep track, but with a little paper notebook.

MySpace. I wanted MySpace to be what facebook is, but let's face it, MySpace is complete crap. The only thing it's good for is band sites.

The Stone was one of my first online obsessions.  An elegant puzzle game steeped in mystery, it encouraged lots of research and community.  It no longer exists, but there's a tribute site that preserves the puzzles, though you must register. I think I still have my Stones (yep, I bought more than one) somewhere.

Tribe. I can't believe I didn't delete my account. The thing about message boards: on most of them, it's people saying the same things over and over.  Once you've read them for a month or so, there's little new. So I get bored with the boards. I was really into this for a while, though.

And now that I'm fully nostalgic, I think I'll grab a Mt. Dew and party like it's 1995.

The office is upstairs. It is very, very hot upstairs. And yet, I felt the need to write a little. Just until the pooling sweat threatens the electronics.

Been painting and cleaning and such. The downstairs looks amazing. Like we don't even live there. I should take pictures, just to prove to myself that I can clean when I want to. Like the sagging grandma showing off her vintage Playboy pics. See, I was somethin'.

Finally got around to reading Twilight. I thought it was okay, but I didn't get the hoopla. I mean yeah, competent, but a little too sweet for my tastes. But I was intrigued enough to continue the series. Holy New Moon, Batman! Just finished the second book, and I couldn't put it down. No, really. I started it this morning and just now finished. The writing wonderfully clear. Trying to figure out what's happening always jars me out of the story, like bad editing in a movie. And, okay, I admit it, at the beginning of the book (not telling what happens) I wanted to cry. I didn't, because I'm a tough broad (people who know me are cackling now). Also because I put on a big frowny face and got a soothing hug from the Spousal Unit. That's right, I got hugs because I was sad about a book. He understands these things. So obviously, I'm sucked right in. Gonna start the third book, Eclipse, in about two minutes. Downstairs. Where it's cooler.


Update the first:

We are selling Casa Sennkitty. We should have done it months ago, before our accounts ran so low! But all's well. Our Realtor is confident of a quick sale, once I finish the damned painting and clean up the back yard. Yes, I will destroy a small, thriving ecosystem to sell the house. We are finding ourselves...relieved. This place was always too big for us. We don't use the living room, and the dining room is storage. Even though we've lived here three years, we never finished painting or hanging art. Just never felt "ours". Sounds like I'm rationalizing after the fact, doesn't it? So be it.

Update the second:

We had our last Immigration interview today! As in, we await a fingerprinting appointment, and the Spousal Unit gets his Permanent Resident card. After that, he'll apply for Citizenship as soon as possible, as he's hot to vote. Probably won't make it for this November. He reminds me of myself at 17. Whadd'ya mean I can't vote yet? WAIL!

And that's all for now. If you've written and haven't heard back, it's because I'm knee-deep in Sail White. And yes, Liz, I do want to get together! Next week?

When I struck out on my own, I'd planned on selling a few books on Amazon, and putting some crafts on Etsy. The craft room has a table full of half-finished projects. The books done took over. I love books. I love touching them, organizing them, discovering what they're about. I love buying large lots of books from individuals, and seeing their life played out before me in their reading choices. I love the wacky covers.

I still may finish up some crafts, but right now, I have a few thousand books in the garage, waiting to be listed. And (more) shelves waiting to be built. I'm not paying the mortgage on my own yet, but I'm not doing too badly. And I'm having an awful lot of fun.

Mmm. Books.

If you want to keep up with me 'n' books (and other things), Spooky Moon is the place to do it.

Don't you love how I post these long, personal screeds when things are going a little badly, so all my friends think I'm in terrible shape?

I'm not.

Doing mucho better the last few days, and having a pretty good time. I am writing a seminar for work right now on time and stress management (hey! don't laugh!), based on a lifetime of study, and a whopping dollop of David Allen. Wish we could afford David Allen. Ah well, I have more to cover than that anyway, and I have to work things in so it all fits and is entertaining and engaging and...you get the idea. I love this stuff. As people-phobic as I can be, performing (and teaching is performing) doesn't bother me. I love writing the script, putting together the images and exercises, pacing everything out, rehearsing, and presenting. My perfect job is half teaching and half coding. And in fact, that's the job I've spent the last 10 years molding where I am, and I'm just about there.

Dangit, I forgot my vanilla candles.

I had an idea that when I'm feeling good, I can mainline a distinctive scent, so I have a sensory trigger to use when I'm not so great. I decided on vanilla, because, yum! But dangit, I left my vanilla stuff at home. Maybe I should go to Williams Sonoma for lunch and get the good stuff.

And, after several produce deliveries rotted, I have finally found the time and energy to cook again. Made a bitchin' veggie loaf last night. Cooked it forever, so it would get nice and crusty. The crusty bits are the best.

I've been thinking about reviving my Crush section. Heck, I don't even think I have a link to it anymore. And it's all broken. And I keep saying "I want to revive X", but do I? Nah. But I was thinking about it, because the Spousal Unit and I are watching Stargate SG-1, and we each have our own little crush. I was going to put them both up. But since I have better things to do, I shall probably not get around to it. To make up for this terrible oversight, here's some Teryl Rothery for the SU:

Lookit me! I'm bloggin'!

Don't worry, dear overwhelmed readers, it won't last.

I was just thinking about birthdays. There are very few I remember without prompting from my calendar:

Bill (June 3--and sometimes I have trouble with this one)
Kelly on March 17
My parents, on various days in March
My brother, on July 3

Some I can sort-of remember:

My sister, on either May 21 or 24.
My friend Anna, some time in November. I think.
I sometimes get the months for my nephews right.

Some birthdays I think I remember, but I hold off until my calendar reminds me, because I'm always wrong:

John, January? June? *sigh*
Aunt Diana...oh, nevermind.

So what brought this to mind? I always remember Marlene's birthday. Marlene was an "honorary aunt", my mother's best friend for many years. She took care of Mom during her last months, and I'm forever grateful to her for that. Marlene and I have never gotten along--just personality issues, and all on my side. I know she's a good person. We care about each other. But we haven't spoken in many years, because she just makes my brain hurt.

But I do think about her. So, Marlene: happy birthday. I do love you, even if I don't show it.

So, an update from this.

Yeah...not so great. The Ritalin worked for a time, but was overwhelmed by a depressive episode. Yay! So many drugs, so little time. Also, it had the somewhat disturbing side-effect of making me love everything. I'd get this sudden sweep of well-being when the drug kicked in. Yeah, it was nice. Yeah, I'd go back to that, if it helped me concentrate. Maybe I do need to go back now that my mood is under better control. I don't know. It's really confusing, and hard to focus on.

Right now I'm on Dexadrine, but this dosage isn't helping me concentrate. Know what happens when I can't concentrate? Can't work. And what's next? Depression, oh yeah. I get so frustrated! Since I was diagnosed, it's almost worse, because I feel like there's hope--there's something out there that will help, but it seems to be just beyond my reach. It's killing me, because other than this blockage crap, I have a pretty good handle on my depression. Sure, there are stresses and triggers and such, but they aren't that common, and I can see them coming and bounce back. But the ADD-caused blockage--where I can't do anything--my mind just slips sideways--that is far, far too common. And it squashes me like a bug. Goddammit.

Ah, but that's not even the highly personal crap I came here to write about today. I'm in a rambly mood.

The thing I was just thinking about (for those few, precious minutes I could hold it in my flippin' mind) was Big Interests, and how they go away.

Remember my bento kick? I loved making bentos! I even converted some friends. I had decided that I'd been interested long enough to maybe even write a book about creating bento for American tastes. I collected just enough boxes to make the photography interesting, and started learning about how to photograph food. I started building recipes. Then I stopped. My lovely boxes are collecting dust. At least I still use the photography lights, and that study has helped me take pretty good photographs of other projects.

Most recently, my pottery died. I had been taking classes since January, and having a great time. Then there was a two-week break, and I started on a hand-building class, instead of the wheel-throwing I'd been doing. Possibly, there was Blogathon stress in there as well, as I found I had to skip classes to work on it. But when it came time to go back...I couldn't. I was utterly uninterested. And I thought this was it--I subscribed to a couple magazines, and looked forward to making dishes and vases and gifts for friends. Maybe it was hand-building. I hate coiling. I don't know. I just know that, for now, it's gone, and it hurts.

I've done this with so very many things. So many ideas, so many books I wanted to write, so much art I wanted to build. All gone, with the fickleness of my fucking disease. If I can even blame ADD--though inability to maintain interest in things is a common symptom.

I learned to cope with this in my craft room. I just do whatever I want, whenever I want. I buy supplies I am interested, and play. No beating myself up, even if I don't set foot in the craft room at all for weeks. Even if all I do is organize my stamps, well, that's fine.

I even cope pretty well when it comes to Blogathon. The Spousal Unit says I'm better at sticking with things when others are depending upon me, and he may be right.

I still have my seasonal frenzy of interest in Halloween, graveyards, Christmas stuff, organizing, frugality. It comes and goes. I'm hoping that it will all come and go, as I get better. I hope I'll make another bento someday.