mrtl

Brilliance

Alaska is working its way back into darkness. By December we'll have around four hours of sunlight a day.

Imagine my glee at discovering these. Lighted slippers. Slippers with headlights. No more kicking crap on my way upstairs in the middle of the night. No more bruises on my chins from trying to find the light in the blackness. And the colors!

----

Note: I haven't forgotten about my art project. I put too much water in with the candy, so the colors weren't as vibrant as I wanted them to be. It's for the best, since I didn't know what I wanted to paint, anyway. I have since found my muse and hope to get something done this weekend. Stay tuned!

Ham, Sandwiches, and Ham Sandwiches

I love me some ham. Had me some ham the other day -- first time in ages -- and I found myself dancing around the kitchen singing an impromptu ditty to the ham. Bug thought I was crazy, but now whenever ham is mentioned, and I call out, "HAM!" she'll follow suit.

::tangent::
Funny thing. The day after I pranced around singing my hammy song, Bug was in the kitchen playing with her Word Whammer. What three-letter word did the Whammer ask her to spell? H-A-M is right! Woot!
::end tangent::

There is no more perfect sandwich than my ham sandwich. It's made on whole wheat or multigrain. One side has the Heinz, and the other Miracle Whip. A slice of American cheese (or cheddar if there's some about) sits on the ketchup, but never on the Whip, else the Whip acts as a glue and adheres the cheese to the roof of my mouth. Virginia Baked. Honey. Spiral. Doesn't matter. Before the top slice is placed, Nacho Cheese Doritos add a crunchy layer.

Drool.

We didn't have Doritos the other day, but still the Ham was Good.

Mister mrtl is disgusted by my ham sandwich. It's the ketchup/Whip combination. Who puts ketchup AND Miracle Whip on a sandwich? That's NASTY! He can never hide his feelings, either. He doesn't need to say a word; a look -- like he's puking a little in his mouth -- is enough. So should I be surprised when he made me that hamaberration the other day? Not at all, but he certainly shouldn't have acted all surprised when I took umbrage at first taste.

I certainly don't want to sound unappreciative here. Mister mrtl takes very good care of me, and regularly feeds me. I ate it. But think about it. Mustard?? On ham? EW! Just because I like a little mustard in one place doesn't mean that can be extrapolated to other deli meats. Come on!

::mustard tangent::
It's very odd how I, a lifelong mustard hater, have suddenly taken a liking to some country dijon on my George-Foreman-grilled turkey and cheese. mmmmmm... I think it's the drugs.
::end mustard tangent::

It happened again tonight. The insane substitutions, that is. Bug was eating a pizza sandwich (wheat, pizza sauce, and shredded cheese), and I started thinking about how much I love ham and mushroom on pizza, but since mister mrtl can't stand mushrooms but I'm perfectly happy with the usual sausage and onion, I haven't had it that way for years. When he asked what I wanted, I said I'd like a pizza sandwich with ham. Dude. Fat free cheese instead of the shredded? GAG! Again, don't want to be unappreciative, but I couldn't fathom stomaching that, so I had to intercede. Again, the Ham was Good.

Got me thinking I'll be having me a pizza sandwich with ham and mushrooms tomorrow.

I think I'll have to make it myself, though.

An Art Project

The first I read of Donny Johnson was a small excerpt in the paper. I was intrigued at the thought of artwork created using a paintbrush made from hair and paint from M&Ms. I bought some M&Ms today with a plan. Searching tonight, I found this, which provides the instructions I need:

He puts from one to five of the candies in each of the jelly containers, drizzles a little water in and later fishes out the chocolate cores, leaving liquid of various colors, which get stronger if they sit for a couple of days.

A picture accompanies a description of the brush -- "Mr. Johnson's paintbrush is made of plastic wrap, foil and strands of his own hair," -- and if I feel so inclined I will make one to use. I wonder where I can get blank postcards.

I'll be posting my work of art next Monday, so I guess this could be considered a pseudo Motif. Anyone?

rock on

This is only vaguely a post about work. It must be noted, for the record, that work led to me obscene lows and highs today. It has driven me to drink tonight -- a pseudo Duck Fart, as I have the Bailey's and the Kahlua but not the Crown Royal -- out of jubilation and nuttiness.

Why do I meekly accept tasking to do things that I don't know how to do? Why, when I try to learn, and it should be simple cut-and-paste with minor modifications, I still manage to screw it up, putting a [ where there should be a { and spending way too much time trying to figure WTF when I get the error message?

It's the thrill, my friends. The thrill of being too stubborn to ask for help (although I'll admit that I did, but it was too late for the EST office to get the request, so I gave myself a break and dug back in tonight after the bugs were in bed) and solving the riddle myself. All by myself.

Solve it I did, so in one hand I'll raise my

::tangent to hint at a great and cheap giftie from mister mrtl::
We have no shot glasses. I need a shot glass. Since we don't have one, I'll have to be resourceful and find something else to use in its place. Like a juice glass. Consider yourself warned.

One with a moose on it would be very nice. I bet they have one at Walmart.
::end tangent to hint at a great and cheap giftie from mister mrtl::

glass to toast my success, and in the other I'll raise my middle finger, saying, "Fuck YOU, CGI! You didn't get me THIS time!" And all the while I'll sing my impromptu victory song:

Rock on
Rock off
Rock on
Rock off
The Rocker

My Chinny Chin Chin

How old am I? I'll tell you. I'm 34. I'll be 35 in less than two months. I'm closer to menopause than I am puberty. So please tell me, if this is indeed the case, why I have this huge, disgusting, red, throbbing, painful mess of a zit-cyst on my chin. It cropped up on Monday, the eve of my wedding anniversary. It's still here on Wednesday, the night my father-in-law flies in for a visit. Yay me!

I've named the fucker Brian. I dated several Brians in my day, and every.single.one was a jerk (except one... nah, he was a jerk, too).

To make matters worse, I feel the start of an illness coming on. This is easy to understand, given that all my white blood cells are on the front, battling Brian.

Yeah, all is well in Maddenland.

Don't Hate - Masturbate!

From Yahoo! News:

Fri Aug 4, 11:34 AM ET

LONDON (Reuters) - Hundreds of Britons are being urged to attend what is being branded as Europe's first "Masturbate-a-thon", a leading reproductive healthcare charity said on Friday.

Marie Stopes International, which is hosting the event with HIV/AIDS charity the Terrence Higgins Trust, said it expected up to 200 people to attend the sponsored masturbation session in Clerkenwell, central London, on Saturday.

"It is a bit of a publicity stunt but we hope it will raise awareness," a Marie Stopes spokeswoman told Reuters.

"We want to get people talking about safer sex, masturbation and to lift taboos."

Participants, who have to be over 18, can bring any aids they need and can take part in four different rooms -- a comfort area, a mixed area, along with men and women only areas.

However, the rules on the event's Web site states there can be no touching of other participants nor are people allowed to fake orgasms.

"The amount you raise will be determined by how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve," the Web site said.

The Marie Stopes spokeswoman said local religious groups had been initially outraged, but after people had heard what the event was about, most had approved it.

Police had also given it their approval.

Similar events have been staged in San Francisco for the last six years raising $25,000 (13,000 pounds) for women's health initiatives and HIV prevention. If successful, Marie Stopes said it could take place elsewhere in mainland Europe next year.

And people think that Brits are too reserved.

It's Funny How...

... as we grow old, we cling to the past, we cling to the air... and feel nostalgia for things that were maybe never there. (The The, "Jealous of Youth")

... it didn't take long for me to go back to work full time after we had a casual conversation about me leaving work to homeschool Bug.

... Bug is saying "damn it" regularly now. When I ask her not to use that word, she'll sit at the dinner table saying, "I will not say 'Damn it!' at the table. Any. More."

... two things have reminded me of Torrie recently. First was a license plate I saw the other day that read "LUV2H8." Second was a toy at Bug's school this morning that I swore was saying, "I LOVE crack!" It was actually Oscar the Grouch saying, "I LOVE trash!"

... that lady in the Jeep was seriously driving with a big floppy hat and Isotoner (driving?) gloves.

... I miss blogging. I miss you. I can't bring myself to clear out Bloglines, though, and the thousands of posts I'm behind on, even though I know I'll never find the time to catch up.

... my new medication is working double duty as an appetite suppressant.

... I can eat only small meals lest my tummy feels sick.

... I've lost 7 1/2 pounds in the last month (141 now).

... I should know better than to cut the fudge.

... cut fudge is as good as gone.

... my tummy feels sick after just one piece of fudge.

... I insist on forcing at least three pieces of fudge down my throat, because hell if my tummy is going to tell me not to eat the fudge. Fuck you, tummy.

... I'm fully expecting to gain back five pounds from the fudge.