More fur

Today's hot-off-the-camera, unedited photo is entitled Two cats NOT helping with the laundry. Or the state of the bedding, for that matter.

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And now, on to fur of the human kind.

I'm massively, badly in need of a haircut.

That's not an unusual thing, since I wear it on the longer side and normally only get it cut once a year or so, but at the moment? Well, somehow or other I missed last year's scything, so the crop has gotten a bit out of control. As in damned near halfway down my back out of control.

I am, unfortunately, very good at growing hair. It grows quickly (which, on my legs, isn't exactly a blessing). On my head it grows quickly and fine. Double whammy, there. The stupid stuff grows too quickly to maintain any kind of hairstyle, and even if I wanted to the hair's too fine to do much with. It's wonderful to have hair like mine. That's why I gave up a few years back and just started letting it grow. I put it up in clips for work, I wear it in a pony tail or braid the rest of the time, and I pretty much just let it do what it wants to because that's what's going to happen anyway. And once a year I get it hacked off above my shoulders so I can start the whole process again.

Except that it didn't happen last year. And it really needs to.

I have way too much hair.

Enough, at the moment, that I'm kind of wondering what to do with it. Seems a shame to waste it somehow, even if it is fine and useless. I'd consider donating it for cancer wigs, but I have a few excepts there. Except that a person's supposed to go out and collect monetary pledges for the privilege of having her hair cut off. Except that I can't imagine anyone wanting to make a wig from this hair. Except that it doesn't seem like much of a sacrifice when a person doesn't even really want the hair to begin with...

Oh, don't get me wrong -- I'd much rather not be bald. I just don't put much value to my hair, that's all. I completely can't identify with the women on the makeover shows who cry at the thought of having their hair cut off. Geez, it's just hair. Go ahead. Make me over. Just try to find a hairstyle that won't be plastered to my head in a half hour...

Um, yeah. My hair and I aren't exactly best friends. The only time I've really enjoyed my hair was back in the days of Eighties perms. Yes, I know those perms were awful, but at least my hair had (artificial) body and I could do things with it. What exactly would be wrong with body perms coming back? I mean besides the cost. And the time. And the smell... Ok, so I won't go back to perms anytime soon. Still, you see where I'm heading to.

I just hope I'm heading to a haircut at some point, that's all. And without the whole are you sure you want to cut it ALL off??? conversation I usually end up having at my once-a-year salon visit. I seriously, seriously don't get the attachment some women seem to have to their hair, did I mention?

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A short mention (which at one time was going to be a whole post, but I talked myself out of it. You're welcome) of another facet of human fur: WHAT IS WITH THE CURRENT FASHION FOR EXTREME PUBIC HAIR REMOVAL?

Yes, that needed capslock.

I don't get it. I really don't. I understand the whole bikini line thing, of course, but why in h-e-double-hockey-sticks does anyone think it's a good idea to wax everything? Is it attractive? Do men actually want women to look oddly prepubescent? Am I that completely out of touch?





Ok, that last is absolutely possible. But the whole thing still seems over the top to me. Painfully over the top.

Really painful.

Ah well, I suppose it's just another one to add to the book of Weird Things Women Do to Themselves for No Apparent Reason. It's not like it's a short book, after all.



And no doubt there'll be weirder still to come.

Fur

Another high quality photo from the DSi, if anyone was wondering.

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Ok. In an effort to write this post without using the words abscess, planetarium, and drain too frequently (told you I'd had a week), I am instead going to tell you a slightly crude story from work.

Sorry about that.

I mean, I do make an effort not to be terribly crude on the blog (although in real life? Um, yeah. Fill that one in yourselves) because I know that it's not why my two fans come here (not entirely sure why they do, but that's another issue altogether), but every once in a while the crudeness just has to leak out.

Especially when it's funny.

Let's set the scene here. I'm doing a program for an ECS class (kindergarten, for those of you whose lives haven't gone all abbreviation) that involves talking about what animals do in the winter and how it affects things like their fur. We do some hands-on stuff with actual pelts, and as the kids are touching them we encourage them to think of sensory words to describe and compare them. So here I am holding a beaver pelt and asking the kids if it feels rough, smooth, hard, soft... And then their teacher pipes up with:

Well, if you want soft, nothing beats a SHAVED beaver.

Aaand that's when I found myself trying not to lose it in front of the group. Poor woman very obviously wasn't thinking in slang, but anyone I've told this to since seems to immediately go there.

Which, actually, makes me feel a little better about my own filthy mind.

Anyway. I thought about turning this into a lengthy blather about our weird human need to remove miscellaneous hair (and I may continue on the theme tomorrow), but since I seem to have been so short on words here lately I figure it's not the best idea to waste them all on one post.

It was an actual post today, though.





I hope that everyone's proud of me.

Ah, it's been a week...

Quite the week. Not sure how much I want to share it with you, but in any case it'll have to wait for the moment. I'll try to sit down and have a proper blather later tonight.

No, really. I will.

Try.

Ok, yeah, if not tonight then tomorrow. I'm still around, in any case, so I'll try to have actual words here at some point over the weekend.

Pointless flower photo of the day:

And that, I'm afraid, will have to be it. Something's upset my system, and I really just want to go home and lie down for a bit.

Later, then.

Here elephant elephant elephant...

Hmm. Some weirdness in blogpostingland. Ah well, I'll just keep typing and see what happens later.

Anyway.

Yesterday, you may recall, I took the tablecloth off the elephant in the room in hopes that it might push me past the current blather blockage. I have a bit of a history with that sort of thing, you see. If I have something on my mind I'll either mutter on ad nauseum about everything else BUT the something on my mind, or I'll clam up altogether until I get the something off my mind. Either way, fairly detrimental to the blog. So yesterday I dealt with mental dam and...

Well, I've realised that I just plain don't have much to say.

Not today, anyway. Or tomorrow, since I won't be near a computer.

Maybe I'll spend some of my holiday Monday making a list of default blatherage. That'd be one way to deal with blogger's block, I suppose. Or maybe I should just play with my magnetic poetry. Seems to me I'd read somewhere that the whole idea of magnetic poetry started with a block... yeah, here it is. Well, I have a couple of those kits. If nothing else, I could come up with something for the OTHER blog, which has been decidedly poetry-less for years now.

Hey, what can I say? When it comes to bad poetry writing, I tend to take long breaks. You can find some of the older stuff by hitting the poems link on the other blog's sidebar, though. If you happen to be a sucker for punishment, that is.

I... think I'm done pretending that random typing is going to lead to a coherent blog post now. Have a good Holiday Monday, for those who get one. For those who don't? Have a good Just Monday, I guess. See you Tuesday.




Yes, really. I should actually have the proper time to blog on Tuesday. The topic? We'll see when it's Tuesday.

What's grey and wrinkly and affecting the blather?

No, not an iris. An iris is, in fact, neither grey NOR wrinkly.

So what is?

IT'S THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM, OF COURSE. Or at least the elephant in my personal room. The thing I've been avoiding blathering about, since it doesn't affect any of you and it's only going to sound like a whinge anyway, but also the thing that's keeping me from coming up with a decent bit of blatherage because it's on my mind.

Well, we're finally going to take care of that, boys and girls.

The elephant in the room is...

I've been bit.

Yep, I was attacked. Early this week, in fact.

Bugger snuck up on me and went for the shoulder.

Which bugger, you say? Not sure, really, since I was asleep at the time, but judging from the reaction since I'd say that spider is a pretty safe bet.

That's right, a spider bite has been keeping me from coming up with a blog topic. You'd be more understanding if you could see the damned thing, but I'm not going to attempt to take a picture of my own shoulder. Let's all just imagine large, red, angry-looking, and in juuust the right place to send an annoying twinge of pain when I try to do things like put on a coat or wear a bra.

There's not a bra to be seen on my body today, by the way. Screw it. It's the weekend, I'm not going anywhere, and it's a heckuva lot more comfortable at the moment not to be aggravating the ginormous welt.

Now, before anyone gets overly concerned that I've been walking around with a huge (are you getting the idea that this thing's fairly big yet?) swollen lump on my shoulder all week and haven't bothered to see a doctor about it, let me assure you of two things: first, my part of the province doesn't have any spiders with lethal bites. Second? If there's a weird way to overreact to something, my body will usually find it. Anyone needing proof of number two just has to remember why it's hard for me to go out in the cold.

The fact is that I've had an overreaction to a spider bite before. I was out in the forest doing a bug program (ironic, that. The program where we teach kids that, amongst other things, invertebrates aren't something to be scared of) in capris (which I never do. Long trousers for programs, always. Wasn't thinking that day, I guess) and I got bit on the leg. Same sort of thing as I'm whinging through now happened. First, flesh-coloured lump. Next day? Holy Whomever, what on EARTH is going on here????. I'll leave that one to your imagination, since it's sort of icky to describe. After that, well over a week of large, angry red welt that I began to think would be there forever.

Yeah, it's all sounding very familiar.

And for anyone who's still concerned that I haven't seen a doctor, don't worry. I'm not stupid. I've been keeping a pretty close eye on the thing, and if I notice it spreading or looking any more menacing than it already is I'll hie me to the hospital and face the talking-to I'd no doubt get for not being there sooner.

In the meantime? Well, I'll keep moving somewhat gingerly, I'll have trouble finding comfortable positions to sleep in, and -- maybe -- now that I've got this off my chest (if I could only get it off my shoulder, too...) I'll be able to find something to actually blather about.





Anyone taking odds on that last part?

Stupid cold

I have way too many uses in my life for the phrase stupid cold. Often enough it's because I'm getting frustrated about having a cold, but this time of year?

Weather.

It's stupid cold outside.

Again.

And I'm tired of it.

I'm tired of having to plug in the car (and incidentally? If you're from a place that doesn't get stupid cold and you visit here, don't assume that Canada's leading the world in electric cars. Those plugs you'll see are for our block heaters, because when it's stupid cold you need to heat your engine block before you attempt to start your car. Yes, really). I'm tired of having to dress for a polar expedition before I think about going anywhere. I'm tired of long underwear and wool sweaters -- yes, even though yesterday was National Sweater Day -- and I'm tired of white and grey.

Not at all obvious from the last two days' flower photos, I suppose. And I hope that everyone notices today's bonus spider.

Anyway. I think being tired of winter has put me in a bit of a blogging funk (well, that and the scattered amount of time I've had to blog lately), and I apologise to those of my two fans who are getting massively bored of the whole thing.

I am too, really. Bored of me making lame blog posts.

Well, I'll try to come up with something good and blathery on the weekend. In the meantime, and for those of you who aren't shy of reading about lady parts, this post (which, um, was the link I sent to Wheat the other day, if you'll recall) is one of the funniest things I've read in a while. Her blog's pretty good in general, actually, if you're looking for something to amuse yourself with until I can figure out how to be semi-entertaining again...

Pointless photo of the day:

Got in late today because it was stupid cold out there again, so this'll have to do for a post.

Oh, and the pointless photo? Isn't of winter.

Just saying.

NSFW. Ish.

Ok, not really. Since I type these things at work, they'll never really be Not Safe For Work. I don't do that sort of thing anyway.

All the title has to do with anything is that NSFW must vary depending on your work, yes? Around here we're pretty casual as long as stuff stays in the office rather than in the public (not pubic) areas. Doesn't mean we do the porn thing, no, but we can occasionally be a little politically incorrect in the inter-office e-mails.

Nothing wrong with that, as long as all parties are ok with it.

After having been here for so long, though, I wonder how much I'd have to censor myself if I was in a different workplace. I honestly don't know the answer to that one, because I started working here before the internet became a regular part of the work day.

Yeah, I've really been here that long. When I started we had two computers, a dial-up connection that I only used occasionally because it was so expensive, and an Epson dot-matrix printer. AND it was an uphill walk to work and back....

Anyway. I've got some program prep to do so I should grab something to eat quick. And we just won't talk about what was in the link that I just sent to Wheat that prompted this whole office-correctness line of thinking, ok?

Ok.

Why yes, I do still blog now and then

Yeah, I know it's been pretty lax lately. A combination of being sick for a while, then being busy, then being lazy, then being busy again.

And where are we (me 'n alllllll the voices) now with all of this?

Tired, mostly. Worked late last night, worked early this morning, and didn't sleep worth a hoot in between. Oh, and for a change there's a reason for the didn't sleep part, but I don't think I'll go into it because A) you'll be thinking that far more than my share of weird events happen to me and B) you'll also be thinking that I'm not capable of doing anything but complaining.

I am, though. I promise.

Um...

Am I allowed to complain briefly about something else, though?

Ok, then. Ladies: the perfume? Lay off it, especially when you're planning to be around kids. Too many of them seem to have allergies or sensitivities these days, and your showing up here awash in Fleur de Celebrity du Jour isn't likely to help matters much.

Especially if you know you're going to be spending an hour or so with them in an enclosed space.

Like, say, the mobile planetarium.

Just saying.





I have to get back to work now. Should be around a bit more regularly this week, but I guess we'll see how that goes.

Quick pic of the day:

Juust to let you know that I'm still around (and in a much better mood, but time's a bit too tight for an actual post).

It's Penny. And a ball. And... erm... Garfield's rear end, apparently.

What can I say besides mentioning the fact that it's not my house?

See on Sunday or Monday, depending. Have a good weekend, all.

Lack of post of the whatever:

Sorry, all. I have a head full of snot, I'm not in the mood, and for the next couple of days I'll be mostly out of the office anyway.

I will actually try to have something to say in a few days, but no promises unless this blasted cold finally lets up a bit.

I'm literally sick and tired of being sick and tired.

[/whinge]

See you when I see you.

Ok, one little whinge

Yeah, I know that I was trying to keep the cold-based moaning to a minimum, but you have to allow me this one: because of this stupid head cold I've had a nearly constant headache for over a week, and it's getting old.

Ok, done complaining. Now on to...

All right, we seem to have a bit of a problem in that I don't think I have anything. I mean, sure. There are lots of un-head things that I could complain about, but I just don't feel much enthusiasm towards whining about the weather (snow after a couple of warm days. Yay icy roads for my drive back home...) or the uselessness of American football (best Superbowl post ever? Right here) or the silliness of certain people who post on internet forums (long story there). Even my irrational fondness for cheap tops from Superstore (and don't consider my posting of this link as an endorsement. The clothing is cheap, doesn't wash worth a darn, and I really should stop buying it) isn't leading up to a blather today, I'm afraid.

I guess maybe I'm a little tired. A little feeling sorry for myself, too, which is pointless.



*looks at blog title*

I guess that reaching pointlessness here is akin to reaching nirvana in some belief systems?

Well, we'll go with that anyway and call it a post. Have a good Sunday, all.

I'm trying. Really.

Trying not to make this post whine like a five-year-old, I mean. Yes, I have a cold. Yes, I'm still not feeling all that great. But. EVERYONE OUT  THERE HAS HAD A COLD. So do I really need to go into details?

Didn't think so.

I'm kind of tired of feeling crummy, though.

Anyway.

Much as I expected, I don't really have much on the brain to blather about this morning. Er, afternoon I guess. I should go get some lunch. Before I do, though, let me make the confession that when I took this highly exciting photo of an ice blob on my balcony railing earlier this week, it was -35C outside.

Seriously.

So why was I taking a photo of an ice blob on the plants that I didn't clean up last fall?

Because it was there, I suppose. It looks kind of neat when you click on it to enlarge it. Or at least I think it does. I can be a little weird that way, though.

Oh, and the reason why I didn't clean up my planters and am now treated to a view out my window of dead plants with icicles on them? Well, the birds like to perch on them when they've come to my feeder. Yep, my balcony's a mess as a favour to the chickadees.  But really. Is it a bad thing to do favours for chickadees? Personally, I don't think so. The apartment management company might have a different view, but since they've never said anything I tend to leave the dead plants be until spring. It's not like the neighbours are going to complain, after all. Our balconies are enclosed by side walls. Great for privacy, and even better for dead-plant-perching chickadees.

Um.

This is rapidly becoming droning nonsense, isn't it? Ah well. I really should go find some lunch. Planning on doing a bit of drawing this afternoon as long as the stuffy head cooperates, so we'll see if I can't manage to come up with something or other to post for Illustration Friday.

I know you're probably all on tenterhooks about all of this, but it's just going to have to wait until after food.





Later, all.

A pointless photo

After all, you haven't had one from me in a week.

And yes, my Christmas Cactus always blooms this late. I think it got confused somewhere along the line as to which Christmas it's supposed to celebrate. Understandable, I guess. Maybe it's picking up on my slight Ukrainian heritage and has decided to go all Julian calendar all the time.

Anyway. I don't really have that much to add to my half-assed post earlier today except to say that A) it's only a cold, and B) I'm pretty sure I'll live. I mostly stayed home because I knew I didn't have the energy to do anything if I had actually made it in to work. Besides, everyone would have told me to go home before I made everyone else sick too. Sometimes it's just easier to have that argument privately rather than in the office.

Here's hoping I've seen the worst of this particular iteration of rhinovirus, at least. I'm not sure how much I'll have to blather about since I've done almost exactly nothing (erm... except for a rather pointless painting. Long story, there) for most of a week. I should be around a bit more regularly, if nothing else.

Don't worry -- you're welcome to keep the cheering down to a dull roar.

Chapter 1283: Wherein Dee still feels like crud

Oh, it's been an interesting week. As in, I haven't been here all week because I've been sick all week.

I'll try to have an actual post a bit later in the day, but right now I need to be doing work things. Just thought I'd let you know that I'm still around. Ish.