A little coffee talk

Another lovely Sunday morning spent drinking a gallon of coffee, loaded with milk that will no doubt make me ill later and a plethora of chemical sugar substitute that probably has caused cancer in lab rats worldwide. In one of those moments when the 5 year old companion to the group excuses himself to the bathroom, the sentence is happily uttered, "I love porn."

We have no more than 2 minutes before said child will return and the conversation has to cease.

"But I like my porn with some substance and plot around it."

"Depends on the day for me. Sometimes I just want to get to the point."

"I"m a visual girl, I don't like to read my porn."

"Yeah, the older I get I like it to have some substance, but you're right some days you just don't care."

And there you have it... to the soundtrack of some obscure alterna-folk band... the Sunday morning porn talk.

If nothing else, this will direct (again) those searching for porn star Nikki Blonde back to this blog.

Tuna, the Tasty Treat

This morning found me at Beaner's struggling to push open a door that was only to be opened by pulling... tis a sad thing the DTs of caffeine. But, I made it in, and then out again with a coffee and bagel, then it was to farmer's market where I purchased some cucumbers, carrots, cabbage and a cookie.... which reminds me, I still have half a cookie I should remove from my bag... but I digress. Upon getting home (after a side trip to Bed, Bath and Annoying Salespeople Beyond) I made myself a huge salad which I topped with cucumbers, tomatoes, almonds and tuna. Since I cannot eat a whole can of tuna and never seem to use the remaining contents before they get yucky, I often give half to me, and half to the cats. Today was no exception.

And, as I sit here picking at what is left of my salad, I am amused to watch the boys roll into the living room, fresh from the feast and clean themselves for a good 30 minutes--as if they plunked into the water, pulled the fish from its very depths, dismantled it fin to gill and had a tasty lunch. In their minds, I guess, they simply did not stroll up to a plate and eat tuna, it probably was the result of the hunt. Now, they are all stretched out like gumby kitties in various positions, purring and obviously clean.

Lazy, rainy Sunday

There were so many good intentions gone awry today. I had planned to work for a good 3-4 hours... I lasted an hour. The rain put a damper on the gardening plans for the day and it all just went downhill from there.

I did manage to do some cooking; and in a last ditch effort to feel productive, I have gathered together the laundry, packed up a box of books and gathered together many of the items I will be donating to various organizations if I cannot find one to take it all.

Mostly, though, I'm just feeling run down and whiny. I did go to Bombadills this morning for a few hours and did get some writing done, and got several emails written I might not have otherwise. Today is the perfect day to kick back and watch a movie... and I would love to go see either Talk to Me or 10 Questions for the Dalai Lama... both of which are playing today, except that I know that the air conditioning would be more than I could handle. It's low 70s right now, and I'm already a bit chilled... can't image going into another establishment (a quick trip to Kroger for cilantro proved nearly fatal).

Decidedly, the best possible course of action is to sit on my ass in front of the TV the rest of the day and try to at least force liquids down, because aside from my three large cups of coffee at Bombadill's, I've managed to drink 2 whole glasses of water, and that was an effort that resulted in nausea. I guess, I'm afraid that if I sit down and stop moving around for more than 5 minutes and just relax, I will realize that I'm actually not feeling very good at all... and since I really don't like that, it is easier just to run around and find things to do. Though, admittedly, I don't think I can do that much longer either--one way or another, it finds a way to sneak up on you.

On that note, I'm certain a shower will be the corrective cure for what troubles me... indeed, why didn't I think of that earlier?! I'm sure if I had, typing would not have turned into such a painful event right about now.

Ciao...

Early morning un-welcomed events

Thursday, approximately 3:15 a.m. I am awakened by a sudden rush of cat noise, most particularly Calvin's high pitched growl/meow. Bowie and Vinnie are in the bedroom with me, and as I get up, I hear Jake hissing something fierce... I assume one helluva fight is ensuing. In an unfocused haze of sleep and wake, I stumble out of my bedroom into the hallway to see Calvin crouching and Jake nearby, both are creating havoc at a third feline body that is sitting casually in the middle of the living, looking around. The third cat sees me and takes off out the balcony door from which he came and jumps off. It is the neighbors cat who figured out a way up to our balcony. I closed the door, congratulate Calvin on his fierce guarding of the homestead and stumble back into bed.

Thursday, approximately 6:30-6:45 a.m. My alarm wakes me at 6:30; as is the typical case, I lie in bed a few moments until I hear the coffee pot kick on... this morning, I drifted back to sleep shortly after waking and about 10-15 minutes later, woke again and got up. I stumble into the kitchen, my hair a wavy mess of curls that are 5 times larger than usual. I grab my very LARGE cup and put in the necessary Sweet n' Low and creamer... and turn to the coffee pot to see it mysteriously without coffee. The light is on that it has brewed. My first thought is I did not put water in the reservoir. I check and there is water. Nothing is hot. Panic ensues. I begin pushing buttons like a mad-woman, because, quite frankly, I am at this time of the morning without hope of coffee. It quickly becomes clear, to my utmost horror, that the Mr. Coffee has met its very end.

Now, with regard to that last, very sad occurrence, I ended up with another coffeepot from work... as a result of the office closing, there is no need for the non-leased coffee pot and I was told I could take it. It is very nice, nicer than I would have bought. My unfamiliarity did cause a slight moment of panic when I thought I set the auto brew this morning and there was no coffee again. Turns out, I didn't turn it on even though I had set it. At least there was coffee to be had this morning. The woman in Beaner's yesterday clearly did not understand the level of incoherence I had when I went rushing in. I was so out of it, I ordered a bagel--a food item that I rarely eat and ends up making me sick 9 times out of 10. Yesterday was one of those 9 times...

The King Lives and other scary events on a Saturday

This weekend brought a swarm of Elvis' to Ypsilanti... that's right, it was the Michigan ElvisFest. For the uninitiated and uninformed, it is a 2 day romp at Frog Island in Depot Town. This year, I did not actually enter the festivities, but heard a few of the performances while sitting outside Aubree's.

The day actually worked something like this... I overslept and had to quickly get dressed, brush my hair and run out after being up for 5 minutes to meet Mal at Bombadill's on Mich Ave. Not having a clue about weather, but having plans to be outside in July at a Festival in honor of his majesty, I opted to wear a blue Hawaiian-ish flower dress, which, albeit on the short side, is still quite cute. Obviously, if I am adorning it, it is cute, but I do digress on a fit of vanity.

Turns out, it got rather chilly, and the partner in ElvisFesting was not feeling well, so Mal and I decided to brave the white polyester-ed middle aged crowd ourselves... but begged off after the price of admission outweighed our desire for sarcasm... plus we only planned to peruse the event for 30-40 minutes and didn't want to drop $12 for the pleasure.

After a nice and calorie laden lunch, we headed back to the cars... while walking down Hamilton, the wind blowing and the sounds of Elvis floating through the air, I did not hear a bike approaching from behind. The dude on the bike was probably about 60, his helmet askew, and passing at such a slow speed as he checked me out, looked at me and said "Excuse me, baby" in the creepiest of manners that my impulse to laugh and scream "eww" simultaneously left me from emitting any sound. Instead, I let Mal laugh, as she didn't hear what he said, or even how (which intonation was the major factor), and I just brought my hand up over my mouth until I was able to get the necessary "Ick" out. Then we were really able to laugh.

But it was scary, in one of those creepy kind of ways. And made me glad that I continued to do a "dress check" to make sure my underwear were not exposed. As I had told Mal earlier, "It isn't paranoia if people can see your underwear."

Irreverent musings on a summer day

Earlier today, while driving, I had a brilliant diatribe for this space... it always happens when driving--I become absolutely a brilliant composer in my head, and by the time I park, take care of everything and have a few minutes... it is GONE. Well, not the fiction--not usually, just my thoughts on life, because they are oft fleeting and typically not worthy of notation; but I'm fairly certain that I probably had the key to something like the fountain of youth and it is forever lost in the dire need to stop off for vegetables and eggs. And if any of you try to tell me that a healthy diet is the key to that fountain... there might be an accident.

Of one thing I can assure you, cats are not the key to living a youthful existence sometimes. Bowie has spent the last several minutes crying like he's dying... and you know why? He is afraid of his reflection in the mirror. I remove him from the bathroom counter and he's back up there, screaming bloody murder. He is a fierce and mighty jungle beast instill fear into the hearts of those in his path, and that includes him.

To counter Bowie, I turned up the speakers on my iPod... yegods, if the neighbors don't already hate me they now have Bon Jovi at arena level decibels. At least I'm not nekkid... at least, not anymore, earlier on the patio might have been another story... and I wouldn't say nekkid as much as I would say topless... there is a subtle difference.

And now, the crisis of dinner... I have stuff to make, I even found some relatively exciting and new recipes; I did go grocery shopping last night and to farmers market this afternoon... but the crisis is not what to make, but IF to make... Lately, I don't want dinner; I'm hungry, but all I really want is copious amounts of Diet Coke or Diet Mountain Dew. I am willing to fore go food for this all driving want. I know it is bad, I know I should cook something healthy and eat and forget the soda, but I am thinking, I will be in the drive thru getting a soda, or at the 7-11 and not eating dinner again tonight. It makes me worry, one of the memories very strong for me is of my grandma--who rarely ate anything beyond a donut and the rest of her day was spent consuming coffee and cigarettes and a pace I've yet to see paralleled. I don't intend on taking up smoking, but I swear, there are some days I would just not eat and would drink coffee or soda all day so I wouldn't have to bother... that is, of course, if you threw in a few jelly candies or a cookie... I'm not a donut girl.

On that note, today is the kinda day that after sitting out on the patio reading a Shape magazine, one should go and wash one's car--and get a soda.

Mahalo.

Starbucks Mindfuck

Last night, I desperately wanted to be warm... I was chilled to the core and thought--Hey, I want to be up doing some writing anyway, I'll get a coffee. And because there is some kind of warp twisted rule of the current longitudinal platform in which I exist, there must be a Starbucks within sight from any vantage point in which one is standing. So, mindlessly, I walked into Starbucks, got a large coffee and walked out. Many were doing the same thing, so I thought nothing of it. Until I took a sip of my coffee, complete with milk and sweet n' low, and remembered how much I really don't like Starbucks coffee. Their Sumatra is about the only thing I really like and they rarely ever have that brewed up. And I cursed myself because there was a Beaners right next door, and I actually like Beaners coffee. (Note: this is another sick and warped and twisted rule of the platform and that is there cannot be one coffee place isolated from another.)

Today, I was driving toward Trader Joe (where, by the way, I do actually purchase my coffee for home) and I see that they are building a new Starbucks along Washtenaw in Ypsi. This one is complete with a drive-thru... and I seriously thought, that will be nice, now I can stop and get coffee on my way to work when I forget to make it at home. And then I remembered last night... I don't like Starbucks that much and I typically stop at the Beaners on my way to work if I need a coffee AND this new Starbucks will make THREE that I pass in my 4 mile drive to work.

I don't know who the marketing genius is that works for Starbucks, but that is one evil bastard with a very keen and sharp mind, who I can only imagine is so caffienated as to be on the job 24/7 just churning out locations and pushing the Starbucks mentality into the veins of the American pop culture through his giant syringe. Starbucks has become to coffee in the mass consumer population as Kleenex has to facial tissues or Jacuzzi to hot tubs. Personally, I think their coffee tastes perpetually burnt and well, I don't buy Kleenex brand either, but like so many, I will whore myself out to Starbucks just because it is there. Sad. Very Sad.

In the words of one of my favorite chick-flicks, You've Got Mail: Starbucks is for people with no decision making ability....

Super genius rating: Starbucks: 4, Nikki 2

A change of color

Blonde Energy comes to you a little less pink today--I let the nail tech choose my toe color yesterday, and she opted for silver. It is fabulous. And, in the spirit of some change, I picked up a bottle of Aruba Blue by Essie... not my usual OPI product, but I liked the name of the Essie color better. And isn't that the key to picking a nail polish? And so, now my fingers are blue tipped--and for a change, not because I'm cold.

I did make myself go to DSW after the pedicure, and while I purchased nothing, I realized that not wanting to shoe shop is more a reflection on the utter unoriginality with which the shoes produced en masse represent. It's almost like buying 3 prints for $40 when nothing is as satisfying as the $3.1 million dollar original. The shoes I envision in my head don't exist... and right now they would be the only satisfaction I would recieve... the rest are empty calories.

So a new week has begun, and I am without plans on this very gorgeous sunny day. I'd like to see Oceans 13, but why? It is too nice outside to have to freeze to death in a movie theatre. Same goes with shopping. I've love to go to the mall and find a flirty new sundress, but again, inside is not what I'm shooting for... so I think the day will find me picking up a few items to do some cooking and mostly sitting out on my patio, working on some writing. Perhaps I will venture out for a walk later or even a coffee... but mostly, it is a lazy Sunday with sunshine, and it just seems kinda nice.

Mahalo.

Ambiguities, Anteaters and other things that are not related to the letter A

Part one: Ambiguities

To say astrology is, at best, ambigious seems to be rather redundant. But allow me to paint a picture: I get home from work, clean up a hairball, put my iPod on the charger, put my lunch stuff away, go into the bathroom, clean up another hairball and sit down to read my horoscope for the day, because apparently, it is only delivered via email after most of my day has past... to which it reads thusly...

Well, what was that? Frankly, you can't believe your eyes or your ears. But
after the initial shock wears off, you'll just have to laugh. Everyone has their
own way of dealing with things, and this definitely isn't yours!

I believe, wholeheartedly that this is a very circular horoscope and making any sense of it is really not possible. What I do find striking is that at least it matches in recieving it at the latter part of the day.

Part two: Anteaters

Today it was suggested to me that to allievate the ant problem I have in my garden, I should obtain and utilize an anteater. Shortly after this suggestion, SK was called in to perform some G2 gathering on this seemingly realistic approach to organic gardening.... and after dashing the hopes of this plan working, suggested several other alternatives... non nearly as exciting, but several on par with feeding a pigeon an alka seltzer. My mother, however, being rational and such merely suggested hiesting an anteater from the zoo... which obviously makes more sense than saving coffee grounds. Additional G2 may be required.

Part three: other things that are not related to the letter A

Officially, my time for the 5k yesterday was 40:17. Now, I have something to beat for the next time. Competitive? I know I will never be the one coming in with a time of 15 minutes or less, but if I could get to around 34 eventually, I think that would be sweet.

And in one of those things that make you stop and go... hmmm...Reuters reports today on how "mooing" ringtones, among other sounds, like sheep, etc. are being used to lure leopards that have infiltrated Indian villiages in the state of Gujarat. If nothing else, check out the article for the super awesome picture of a leopard playing on a tire swing.

That's it. I'm out.

Where in the world is Blonde Energy?

Today finds me on the apex of having my garden completely planted. It is a momentous occasion. I find that my four lovely tomato plants while are not thriving, they are looking pretty damn good. It seems that my snap peas have sprouted and are happily awaiting a bunny to come and nibble away. I've cleared almost all the weeds out and will complete that and the planting today... possible even this morning still, if I can refrain from spilling more coffee on my laptop than what is getting into my system.

Let's see, other things that have happened this week... looks like my company is being acquired. Didn't I just go through that? This, however, will have a much different feel, I'm sure--what that is remains to be seen. Bottom line is that I am still moving to Philly this September.

The week, though a holiday made it only a 4-day work week, seemed oh so much longer. When you still put in 40 hours even on a 4-day week, well, that is what happens, I suppose. At one point on Friday, though, I did have the brilliant idea of suing Microsoft because Excel was making me cross-eyes and causing motion sickness. Not one of my most brilliant ideas, and probably not original when you consider how many people are fucking a spreadsheet on any given day at any given time. Which is, in my great and humble opinion, the real crime... I mean seriously, I've seen people get REAL excited over a pivot table and a line graph with 2 (that's right, biocth, count'em TWO) axises!!

It is time... that special time when I have to bid you all adieu for now and commence with an assortment of errands, drills and other maneuvers that will seek to astound and wreak its own special havoc on the world. In other words, I have to go buy groceries, cat food and gardening supplies... and follow it up with cleaning the lair.

Mahalo.

Wrong--on two counts

First, I was confidently certain that no one would finish the Boston Marathon yesterday in under 2.5 hours.

Second, given the excessively shitty weather hitting Boston, I was convinced that a Kenyan would not win... not being acclimated to such conditions.

Yeah, I was wrong, so very wrong... Robert Cheruiyot took the top men's honor again (and the overall win), and did so in 2:14:13. Slacker, last year he came in nearly 7 minutes less. Seems my confidence in the top US contender was lacking as she fell out due to the "stomach cramps." My theory laying in shambles alongside Deena Kastor's $100K hopes; giving the women win to Russia.

I suppose, if it were that cold, windy and rainy, one would be incented to move faster to be able to be done. Me? I'll just be watching from Starbucks.