Sunday Scribblings: “I just don’t get it…”

For Sunday Scribblings. There are so many things I just don’t get.

I don’t get why receive is spelled with the e before the i.

I don’t get why I get a headache before I even start to feel hungry.

I don’t get why we haven’t had a letter from any of those people on other planets yet?

I don’t get why my bottom lip seems to have a dip in the middle and I always have drips of coffee down the side of my mug. Even if I try to stick my lip right to the side of the mug.

I don’t get why some really bad writing is published as if it were good.

I really don’t get why we still have so much fuss and talk about the US entertainment, writers and actors instead of our own. As if our own is somehow not worth making a fuss about.

I don’t get how art that looks like someone dropped their paintbrush can sell for loads of money.

I don’t get every country still needs their own form of currency.

I don’t get why we need to take math for so many years in school. Except for the odd occasion, the only time I come across anything mathematical any more is when I’m watching a game show.

I don’t get why onions make me feel so sick.

There is more I don’t get but that’s enough for tonight.

Witches (Not So) Weekly

What is one item that is sacred to you? (Can be anything, tool, amulet, object, etc)

What holidays or time of year do you consider most sacred to you personally?

Describe your sacred space (can be anywhere, indoors, outdoors, etc):

One item which always feels spiritual and elemental to me are rocks, stones, pebbles and so on. I don’t know what it is. Maybe I like that they feel firm and hard in your hand, worn and created by the Earth and water. There is nothing quite like a rock warmed by the sun. Pavement and sand get too hot but a rock takes the heat and keeps enough or bounces it off enough that you can sit on it even when you run to get there across the burning sand or paved lot. There is just something special about rocks.

St. Patricks Day may be most sacred to me personally. Some of my Grandparents were from Ireland and I miss them. It may not be my favourite holiday on the Pagan or standard calendar but it does have a lot of personal meaning.

I think my sacred space is sitting right here in front of my computer monitor. Coffee mug (huge coffee mug) within easy reach when I stop typing. I have pretty much created an altar right here with something from all the elements. I’ve got a jasper rock on a chain. Wooden beads made into a hair band. Hand cream made from a shop called Fruits and Passion. Hand sanitizer, surely that counts as a water element if the coffee doesn’t do it for you. I’ve got Jann Arden, Bryan Adams, Loreena McKennitt, and Jazz Divas CDs beside my monitor, handy for sticking in the CD player. Couldn’t those count for the wind element as you need sound waves to hear them. Stretching a bit, maybe. Of course fire is covered by electricity powering the whole thing and the lights I’ve got on so I can see what I’m doing down here in the basement apartment. Not a bad altar eh?

Hair, But No Clouds in My Coffee

Blogging is a full time job. I don’t run ads on my blog so it’s not like I’m spamming my way to fortune (snicker) but I do seem to spend a long part of my evening (and day) here doing nothing. Nothing much that anyone would notice. Tonight I’ve been on Flickr for at least an hour, easily. I discovered another new site that lets you create your own portal which might be useful once I get the hang of it. I was on MyBlogLog and wondering how much use it will be once Yahoo really gets a grip on it. I forget what else I poked around at. Reading a few blogs, some Technorati and checking for two links which have mysteriously become bust this week. (I’m hoping they are coming back after the end of the month when bandwidth arises again like the phoenix from it’s own ashes).

On top of all that there is a damned hair in my coffee. I know it’s my own hair. I drank it anyway. I let the hair cling to the side of the mug and I ignored the little trouble maker. Do you go into full panic if there is a hair in your food? I knew someone who couldn’t eat something if it had a hair in it, even when it was their own hair. It didn’t bother me all that much. I know where it’s been afterall. I even know what brand of lovely smelling shampoo I used this morning.

Anyway, I’m glad to have coffee again, even the hairy kind. I had to go without this past week when finances were sadly depleted and I ran out of all my coffee making necessities at about the same time. So now, coffee is back in my life. Goodie for me.

The Monthly Madness

This was my column for Bewitching Vagabond at BackWash today.

Today’s babble will probably squick some of the boys/ men, so you have been warned.

It’s a period thing. When I was younger I didn’t notice anything about myself changing at this time of the month. I can’t say the same about the age I am now. Maybe it’s part of upcoming menopause or just the winding down of the female brain in general. I have nothing scientific, just mad science.

But, I have noticed a definite difference in myself in the day(s) before and during that time of the month. In total it’s not quite a week of time. I get a lot more sensitive and I have a big tendency to fall into a deep pit of depression. I’m writing this cause today I really can’t write anything else, I’ve been trying. I feel like my life, all the negative things, are piling in over my head and I’m being left in some hole to dig my way out when I wake up and feel better one day.

Yesterday I woke up and knowing I’m going through a bit of a rough spot I decided I would compile my limited funds and go out for breakfast. That usually cheers me up. At the very least I like the smell of bacon and eggs and when I’m out I don’t have to clean any of it up or get zapped by the bacon as it fries. All good things.

I made the mistake of feeling optimistic enough to look at the dating part of Craigslist. Why do we sabotage ourselves with this swill? I read a post that seemed really sincere, someone else feeling alone in the big city and wishing to meet someone. I was wrong, well sort of. I wrote a note. He replied. I sent another one and that was it. I made the fatal flaw of being honest. You see, men only want porn models, not attractive real women. It doesn’t matter who you are on the inside, only what you are on the outside.

I am sorry I let that one dickhead spoil what I was trying to make of my day. But, it did. I didn’t go out and I spent the day feeling awful and the most I did was wash dishes and make a blog post from a photo I had taken on Sunday. Pathetic. Normally, I would have gotten angry and not been down on myself, life and everything. But, it’s that time of the month and I seem to get sucked into this portal of despression so easily.

I’m glad it is about the last day today. I am pushing myself out the door once I give this a quick spellcheck and post it up.

I know I’m not the only one going through this kind of madness at this time of the month. I never really understood it till now. I’ve always thought it was just part of someone’s outlook in general. But, I’m not a moody person, I am usually optimistic, open and friendly. This is just not me and yet I am having a hard time overcoming it. I’m glad it’s only once a month. Easier to think of it as just 12 times a year, that sounds like a lot less.

Anyway, my sympathy to the other women out there who go through this (or worse) at that time of the month. Don’t do something you will regret later. Try not to email anyone in any heat of the moment. Do your best to pull through cause you know it will only be a few days.

See you later.

Should you be curious… it’s true. I am on a mouse for sale at CafePress. You can also get me on a coffee mug, a canvas bag and other accessories.

Where I Live: The End of the Tour

This is the fancy radio I bought myself. It plays CDs too. I’ve never spent so much on a radio ever so it’s worth a photo. At least I will have a photo should I ever need it for insurance. Hopefully that will never happen. The last is my latest favourite coffee mug. I bought it for a buck at GoodWill in Barrie just before I moved here. It has a bee inside, kind of cute. Beside it are the rechargeable batteries for the camera. They really needed time to plugin after being away so much longer than I had planned.

Hope you enjoyed the tour. Scroll back to start at the beginning, much like an Alice in Wonderland thing. No White Rabbits were harmed in the making of this basement apartment tour.

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Hometown Computer Withdrawl

I miss my computer. It’s upstairs, ripped out from it’s umbiblical connection to the electric power of the great wall of… whatever great wall we have here in Canada, near me.

I keep thinking of things I would do if I was on my own computer. But, I’m not.

I’ve begun to have dreams about my computer. I think it’s sending me psychic vibes to rescue it from the dark hallway of powerlessness and quiet silence. It wants to beep again!

Poor thing.

Did you know that Skye gave the bird…
a new nest? She’s very brave. If you saw the picture of those baby birds you know they were truly ugly. About as far from cute and cuddly as you can get without running out of runway. You could say, Skye is for the birds. If you were so inclined.

Any Flimsy Excuse to Squish a Bug on your Monitor

You know you’re evil when something like “kitten in a sandwich” makes you laugh. Just so you know, I’m evil.

Today, now that I finally began moving things downtown to the apartment, I found a really interesting job here in town. I’m going to apply, to see what happens. Sort of a ‘why not?’ Why not? It’s a community news reporter, freelane for the local newspaper. Too bad I don’t still have the car, that’s one of the job requirements.

I am tired tonight. Tomorrow Gloria is picking me up at 9:30 and we are going out to Barrie to poke around the second hand shops. I’m getting pretty low on dough though, capitalist paper dough. The other kind I can manufacture myself, by the dozens even.

Are you watching Canadian Idol? I liked a redhead girl from London, Ontario but I don’t think she made it into the last batch of kids. I’m not sure cause it got pretty confusing at the end. I’m not even sure if I had her name right, Jen I think.

I like blogging at night. The TV is on behind me. Some foreign movie that I can’t understand but it’s making enough noise to remind me I’m not alone in the world. There may even be subtitles if I was turned around to read them. I’m not though. Too tired/ lazy/uninterested. The only problem are the dratted little flies and other buggie things. They love the light of my monitor. It sucks them in and then I slap them down. Not very nice of me, I know. But, the creatures keep drowning in my coffee mug and really… that’s just downright nasty of them. I have to choose between not drinking my coffee, plucking out their little black carcasses or just drinking them. I admit sometimes I just drink them. Protein and completely free and available. Suddenly I’m reminded of dating.