Autumn (the best season, and make no mistake) is on its way.
I have proof.
Or rather, I had proof. But, because I am basically a LOLcat at heart, I eated it. Nom!
The first Mellocreme Pumpkin of the season has been et. Bring on the Autumn!
Fez is ready. She is practicing her hibernation skills with the dog’s squeaky stuffed hedgehog.
Y’all know about the Schadenfreude carnival that is the Cake Wrecks blog, right? No? Well, now you do.
In her LiveJournal today, brilliant editor Sharyn November wrote:
i had dinner with a friend last night, and we talked about participating in activities that were out of our respective comfort zones.
knowing me, please suggest some things i can do that i might not have considered. jokes are fun but not entirely appreciated (i.e., “visit mars,” “have a baby,” “go white-water rafting!”).
then i’ll do them and tell you how they were.
I liked this idea so much that I am opening the floor for anyone who’d like to to do the same for me: suggest some things I can do that I might not have considered. As I recuperate from the blech that has had me in its grip for the past while it’ll give me some things to think about and look forward to trying.
As in Sharyn’s case, jokes aren’t really what I’m looking for, and I additionally will note that snideness or nastiness will just be deleted.
I suspect that I will not choose to do all of the things suggested. But if I do try them, I will report back.
(Note to those reading this through the LJ feed: I do not usually see the responses to the posts LJ generates from the feed. If you want me to see your response, click through to the actual blog and leave a comment here.)
There is only one way that a person ever gets to take a nap in my house, and that is beset by cats. We’ve only got the two of them, yet somehow they seem like more when you’re napping. It seems to have something to do with their incredible self-plastering capabilities. Cats don’t just lie next to you, they have this strange semi-fluid property so that they flow into the negative spaces around you, draped all over you, as close to dead weight as anything that is still flicking radar-dish ears in hopes of the sound of stinky can food cans being opened can possibly be. It can make rolling over a bit tricky, on account of the sharp bits which, for cats, are their best and most instinctive defense against earthquakes. But the felines have broken me to their ways, and now a nap without at least one supervisor seems somehow wrong.
I am a little concerned, though, that the cats have begun to find ways not just to control my napping posture but to infect my dreams. During the nap from which I just woke up (ably assisted by Mrs. Calabash, the Elder Statescat) I dreamt that we all lived in a strange apartment in some foreign country in which the bed was meant to be placed in a sort of high shop-window, a waist-high platform accessed through sliding doors on the side that opened into the apartment, and surrounded on the other three sides by thick glass panes lined with sheer curtains that could be opened or shut at will. The idea, it was pretty clear, was that the bed would be warmed by the sunshine. See what I mean? Clearly a cat fantasy. Read the rest of this entry »