Monday, January 27, 2014

How to Drive on the Palisades Parkway Between Exits 4 and 18

1. First and foremost, you will need to hone your tailgating skills. There will be a test. If you cannot remain exactly 3 inches away from the bumper of the car in front of you while going at least 75 miles per hour, you will need to go back and study some more, or get the hell out of the fast lane.

2. The speed limit is between 80 and 90 miles per hour. We know the signs say 55, but really it's 80 - 90.

3. Do not drive below 65. Seriously.

4. If you must drive below 65, get the hell out of the fast lane. Refuse and you will be TAILGATED TO DEATH.

5. Do not remain behind a school bus. Forget the speed limit, just get around and in front of the school bus. Always. The safety of small children be damned.

6. Do not f*ck with the army trucks. You will lose.

7. Sometimes, there are idiots. 

General tailgating does not work on these specific types of idiots. You'll need to step up your aggression. You need to run the idiot off the road or die trying. If you are not aggressive enough, or not gifted in the art of tailgating, learn to observe the cars behind you and identify the driver best suited to this task. Move over and let that driver get directly behind the idiot, so that said driver can run the idiot off the road. Or at least, into the slow lane.

It's the most fun when the cops do this. They are the the best at it.

8. Speaking of the cops, don't worry too much about getting pulled over for speeding. It does not happen very often, as the Palisades Parkway Police are far too busy cleaning up car accidents. Simply memorize their favourite hiding spots, and remember to observe the cars in front of you for sudden inexplicable braking.

9. You will also need to memorize the locations of the extreme pot holes. Because those pot holes will not get fixed for at least the next 12 months, and they will only get more and more extreme until they are large and deep enough to flip your car. (I've seen this happen; it's terrifying.)

10. Traffic always backs up around Exit 9, because Thruway drivers do not know how to merge properly. Proceed with caution. Learn to shake your fist with gusto.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

and I never ever ever do a thing about the weather, for the weather never ever does a thing for me

So I may be going to Super Bowl....... Not sure yet, I have been offered my uncle's ($5,000.00) ticket and I kind of like the Broncos (duh, because they're from Denver), but I will have to spend the day with my delinquent cousin. (He's nice, he's just..... I think "rowdy" would be the kindest way of putting it...) I shall have to contemplate this further. Y'all may remember how I feel about the Giants and their stadium. Plus it's going to be really fecking cold, and I don't actually enjoy watching football.

Also Super Bowl kind of clashes with the church chili cook-off (my social life is thrilling, as you can probably tell). I have been focusing on making the best chili ever so I can beat Stepmom's chili. So far, two butchers in two different supermarkets think I'm out of my mind because I brought in venison steaks for them to grind up for deer-chili (it could be delicious? we'll find out....). They already thought I was a bit strange because I make them grind sirloin steaks when I need ground beef. I refuse to buy supermarket ground beef; I like to know exactly what goes into the ground meat, thanks.

. . .

You know what really effing sucks? Perioral dermatitis. You know what else really sucks? The fact that there isn't really anything they can do for it. Doc told me to cease and desist all face creams, makeup, soaps, etc.

I can't stop wearing makeup. In order to remain employed, I need to NOT look like a leper, which I means I need makeup to cover the hideous fucking rash on my face. Which means I need to wash my face in the evening, which means my skin gets super dry and flaky and itchy, which means I also need to use mf face cream.


There are hideous red patches around my mouth and nose, on my chin, and now a lovely patch of it right under one of my eyes. And the most effective treatment is to do nothing.

Before anyone else says it first, I DO in fact see the irony in this diagnosis. I guess this is how God punishes those who refuse to go to the doctor.

Friday, January 10, 2014

I will take these cotton balls from you with my hand, and put them in my pocket.

Hey y'all.

Like the new winter banner?

It took me like five tries to draw that polar bear. 

Apparently I cannot draw bears. 

That was the first attempt. They were mostly downhill from there.

I am back home finally. And I also got my shoes. Neighbour had them upstairs for two weeks (and they had opened the box, I guess not checking first to see who it was for, which I find bizarre as he had to take the time to tell the postman I wasn't home so he could sign for it.), and then he more or less made me feel like I was the one inconveniencing him by wanting my package. 

Whatevs. I will concede that Pogo was correct in her anti-ginger warnings. 
(Please no one take offense if you are gingers. My BFF M. is a ginger [not that he ever leaves his hair that colour...] and we've been BFF's for .... 15 years. OMG I'M GETTING OLD T.T )


And I finally have a pair of sneakers.

Busy weekend ahead. Big Sis#2 has decided that it is her dream to open a shop-type thingy where kids can go for after school lessons or birthday parties or whatever to decorate cookies and cupcakes artistically, and has been trying to make this a real thing since the beginning of December. At the moment, she's just advertising in the school newsletters and renting space in the community center should she happen to get any responses.  

I'm helping her out tomorrow with a birthday party. Not sure what we're doing, except that it involves cookies and popsicle sticks, because I agreed to go over to hers tonight and help pre-assemble the cookies and sticks in exchange for a free dinner of Chinese food. 

Then a possible beer-tasting adventure tomorrow afternoon with that boy I sort of liked last winter, or another tryst with my friend C's cousin. It depends on my mood, but right now I'm leaning towards Option Two...

I forget what I'm doing Sunday aside from church, but I know I'm supposed to be doing something....

Ah well.

Mum called me a Bible-thumping fool the other day. I'm not sure if I feel offended or amused. 

Going to try and catch up on all your blogs now, my friends. It's been too long...

Monday, January 6, 2014

I'm going to ramble now because I feel like it.

I watched Hannibal the other day (the film, not the tv show, but if you haven't watched the show GO DO IT NOW). I totally forgot that I had never seen the full ending of the film.

****spoiler alert if you haven't read the books (and you should; they're brilliant)****

WTF RIDLEY SCOTT?!?! YOU FAIL. Clarice Starling DOES NOT keep trying to injure and/or capture Hannibal to arrest him when she wakes up in the mansion, they RUN AWAY TOGETHER AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER, DAMMIT.

****okay, I'm done***

It has been a somewhat hectic 2 weeks. After the Christmas hols, I spent only a few days home last week--bloated and cranky and swinging back and forth between depression and Numbness. I spent New Year's Eve home alone and was in bed by 10.00. Mum actually came to visit me on New Year's Day (::GASP::), which was nice.

Last Thursday morning, I packed up the kitties and an overnight bag and left home early, to drop my stuff off at Mum's before work so I wouldn't get stuck in an epic snowstorm again.

I am still at Mum's house.

(It's Monday.)

So some random drama--Anorexic Auntie sent me a new pair of shoes for Christmas (Irregular Choice, my fav). They still hadn't arrived as of last week, so she was getting worried they were lost in the mail. She had the package tracked and according to the tracking history, it was delivered to my address on Christmas Eve.

So I texted superhot neighbour and asked if any packages for me been delivered that they maybe forgot about. (Usually they leave stuff like that outside my door.) He said he didn't remember getting anything.

Anorexic Auntie (who is terrifying and relentless when she wants something) further investigated the delivery of my shoes and according to the Florida, NY post office, my package was indeed delivered to the upstairs, and signed for by superhot neighbour. They sent her a scanned copy of the mail receipt with his signature on it.

It's probably a good thing that the combined forces of the weather (3 degrees F/-16 C tonight, after a feckton of snow, which melted today in the spinglike warmth, and rain, which will turn to a feckton of ice as soon as the temperature drops), my car (epic flat tire Saturday and no one could fix it until today), and plumbing issues (no water in my apartment until maybe tomorrow, landlord is not sure) are forcing me to stay at Mum's, because in my precarious mental state I probably shouldn't be allowed to retrieve my shoes by force.

In happier news, my cats are loving their little holiday. They have a big house to tear around, and two extra people to make a fuss of them, plus all the visitors making a fuss of them. Mum's cleaning ladies spent half an hour this morning chasing them around the house to make a fuss of them and teach them to speak Polish

In general well-being, I'm not sure how I am. I feel weird. Sort of suspended somewhere above caring, like I'm watching everything the way you'd watch a movie you're not that interested in. I have no motivation for anything.

Stay warm, my pretties.