Wednesday, 28 April 2010

I'm so confused

There's wet stuff falling from the sky.  How does that work, again?  It's been a while.

Unfortunately, the wet stuff is due to turn to white stuff.  Possibly lots of white stuff.

Fortunately, this will deal with the poplar pollen, and the constant whinge about headaches, for a while.

So how am I supposed to be feeling about this, then?  Good that I might be able to breathe, or ticked that winter doesn't ever seem to know when to go away?  At the moment I'm leaning toward the good side, but I'm thinking that's only because it hasn't started snowing yet.

It certainly is raining, though.  Weird.

No, seriously.  We've had so little rain OR snow in the past few months that I'm really not sure how to process it right now.

And besides... I've got nothing.

How many of you had already guessed that part?  Yeah, I know.  The blog's been a little bare this week.  Sorry about that, but when I've got nothing I've got nothing.

And I should really stop typing and enjoy the rain, anyway.





Ok then.  Let's go with that plan.  If I don't show up here tomorrow, you can assume that I drowned after going outside and looking up with my mouth open in wonder and amazement...

Or, you know, you can assume that I just didn't feel like blogging.  The first option would be much more entertaining, though.

Later, all.

Tuesday, 27 April 2010

Something something whatever

Dad's deer haven't eaten his caged tulips yet.  As of the weekend, at any rate.  I don't know what they look like just now...

Anyway.  It's going to be another postless day, for the most part, but that's only because my day started with a breakfast meeting at 7:30 am no I'm not kidding, so at this point it's almost over.

Weird, that.  Makes me think I should try to do something with my afternoon, but we all know that it'll just turn out to be staring at some silly British sketch comedy or something like that.

Ah well.  I may as well have my lack of ambition now, because next week will be busy.

And no doubt I'll whinge about it.

Something to look forward to, I guess.  Catch you later, folks.

Monday, 26 April 2010

Pointless portrait of evil of the day:

These are poplar catkins.  Catkins are flowers.  Flowers make pollen.  Poplar flowers make poplar pollen, you know.

The only thing good about these particular catkins is that they are no longer making pollen.

This is all you're getting today, folks.  I have a pretty nasty headache at the moment.

Gee, I wonder why...

Sunday, 25 April 2010

What the brain gets up to when no one's looking

Um, no.  The brain doesn't get up to violets.  As usual the photo is pointless, and since the Early Blue Violets are the most colourful things in my father's yard at the moment I thought I'd share some with you.  I took a lot of pointless photos yesterday, actually, but since it's early days yet most of them are of leaf buds on trees.  I hope everyone likes leaf buds on trees, because you might be seeing a fair amount of them in the near future.

So.  Topic.  I had a weird, weird night last night.  Lots of dreams -- or at least lots of remembered dreams, which isn't all that normal for me.  Nothing too disturbing, thank goodness, and nothing that I think needs much in the way of examining.  Although I might wonder why I was having Christmas dinner with one of my former supervisors, really.  In real life?  It'd never, never happen.  Or at least not in such a civilised manner.

Remembering dreams at all is still a strange thing for me.  I've mentioned this before, but for a very long time I didn't remember any dreams.  Not even when I became briefly interested in dream analysis (very briefly.  Almost non-existently briefly) and tried some of the techniques suggested to help you retain your dreams.  My stubborn brain just refused to have anything to do with it.

And why?  I'm not sure, obviously, but I've speculated in the past that maybe it was because I had an awful time with dreams for a period when I was a kid.  I'd have terrible, terrible dreams, and they'd be set off by just about anything.  In one memorable case a silly and completely not memorable Disney movie turned into a slasher flick in my eight-year-old mind.  Seriously.  Blood and gore and the whole works.  With a cat.  Hey, I've never claimed to be normal.  Anyway, my theory is that after a while of terrifying myself in my sleep my brain decided that if I insisted on playing that stupid game then it damned well wasn't going to let me remember any of it.

And that's exactly what happened.  As far as I was concerned, I didn't have any dreams.  I mean, I know I did, but for all I knew about them they may as well have not existed.  And this went on for yeeears.  Long enough that it really feels odd to wake up from a dream now and remember anything about it.

Which brings up the question of why I can remember the occasional dream these days, I guess.  I'd like to think that it means that my brain has started trusting me again, but that's too schizophrenic a thought even for Yours Neurotically.

Maybe I've just found easier ways to terrorise myself.

Or maybe I've stopped?

I dunno.  And I'm not likely to.  I suppose all I can say to wrap this up is pass the sweet potato casserole, please.  And do try to keep that bloody cat out of the way...

Saturday, 24 April 2010

Cats, for no apparent reason

As you can imagine (at least you would be able to imagine if you knew that I spend most Saturday mornings doing laundry), I haven't had time yet to take any new pointless photos outside.  Have a random cat instead.

Ok, so it's not exactly a random cat.  It's Penny, often referred to around here as Lumpy, and I was annoying her with the camera as she was cleaning up after breakfast this morning.  Penny is the smuggest cat I've ever known, and I've known a few.  She looks at us smugly as she sits on our laps (or my lap, I should say.  For whatever reason she sits on me but beside my father), she preens smugly after she eats, she talks to us smugly after she's visited the litter box... yeah, she's the queen of the house and she knows it.  Even if she's not technically a queen in the cat-breeding sense.

She's also developed quite the personality over the years, which frankly surprises me.  When she was younger she sort of wandered around the house like this blank floaty thing, and every once in a while she'd meow in such a tiny voice that we called her Meep.  Oh, in case anyone wondered, the name Penny originally came from her copper-coloured eyes.  They're more like weathered copper now, though.  Maybe that's why I so rarely call her by her actual name...

Um, anyway.  Somewhere along the line she figured out that the humans pay more attention to her if she's REALLY LOUD,  and she became the talker of the house.  Now she's loud, bossy (but sweetly bossy, if that's possible), and smug.  Sounds like quite the advertisement for a pet, don't you think?

And just in the interests of fair screen time (although... now that I think about it he shows up on the blog at least three times as much as Lumpy.  Ah well), here's Max pretending that he's majestic.  He's not, as my two fans know, but he can look the part when he wants to.

They say that there are cat people and dog people in the world.  They say that, but if we're going to be honest there are also bird people, snake people, monkey people (haven't you always wanted a monkey?), and a whole bunch more other people out there.  If we're just going with the cat/dog thing, however, I'll admit -- freely -- that I'm a cat person.  Kind of silly since I'm allergic to them, but there it is.  It has to do with the need factor, in the end.  I like dogs, but dogs are needy, needy things.  A cat gets what it wants and then finds something else to occupy itself with (usually sleeping.  Man, I wish it was possible to catch sleep from a cat). A dog always wants to be doing something with you.  You're the pack leader.  You make the plans.  I realise that it's the kind of attention a true dog person craves, but honestly?  If I owned a dog all by myself (as opposed to in a family situation, where the need thing gets spread out more), that dog would have to agree to find a regular job somewhere.  We'll do something after you come home from work, sweetie.

Um, yeah.  There's more than one reason that I live alone.  I've said more than once that the only way I'd survive in a long-term relationship is if my better half was in the navy or worked on an off-shore oil rig or something like that.  Downtime keeps the brain from imploding, boys and girls.

Well.  This seems to have accidentally turned into a post.  Yay me.  Time for lunch now, which will be scrambled eggs with ham and cheese.  It's a rule, you see, that one must have scrambled eggs with ham and cheese the day after having ham for supper.





Shut up.  It is too a rule.

Catch you later.

Friday, 23 April 2010

Oh, for a blog topic

Yeah, I'm a little blank here.  Sorry, since I've been so generally absent lately.

Oh, and I promise that this is the last snow picture for a while.  At least until our inevitable May snowstorm.

Anyway, the thing with blogging today is that I've been busy enough working at work (gee, who'd'a thunk?) that my mind hasn't been on the general pointlessness at all.  Good for work; not so good for being entertaining.  Or pretending to be entertaining.  Or whatever the heck this is.

I suppose I could share with you -- since I've been doing little but whinge about it -- that last night's few spits of rain allowed me to get the apartment cooled down all the way to 23 C, which in turn allowed me to actually have a normal night's sleep.  Well, as close to normal as I seem to get.  It's amazing how much easier the world is to take when your brain is functioning, you know.  Now if I could somehow stop my eyes from watering and clear my sinuses, I'd be a very happy person.

And then the blog would turn into a pumpkin.  Or maybe I would.  I'm not sure how that works, exactly.

Back to work for me, at any rate.  I'll try to have some new pointless photography in the works this weekend, and maybe I'll even try to be a little easier to get along with as well.





And then the WORLD will turn into a pumpkin.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

Note to the stupid women in the washroom:

Yeah, no new pictures yet.  I know, I know...

Anyway.  This goes out to the stupid people who use the women's washroom here at work.  That could be a large group of women, really, since women in general seem to completely lose their brains once inside a public washroom, but here goes.

Hey.  Stupid women.  You know, those of you who keep throwing bits of toilet paper behind the main door on your way out.  Yes, I know that you're not meant to be touching door handles and things like that after you've washed your hands.  Yes, I know that the experts tell you to use a piece of paper towel to shut off the taps if there's nothing else around.  Here's the thing, though.  You don't have to do that in this bathroom because the taps go off automatically (after giving you a complete shower, yes, but that's a different problem altogether).  And as for the door?  IT'S A FRIGGING HANDICAPPED-ACCESSIBLE DOOR.  You don't want to touch the handle?  Use your damned elbow to hit the auto button.  Don't be throwing random bits of paper in the corner.  Would you do that at home?  Really?

Geez.





That's... um... been coming on for a while.  Sorry.

In other news, sleeping went a bit better last night (I think I got a whole four hours.  Amazing), but I had a nature walk out in the pollen this morning, so now I'm back in fun-with-allergies land.  As I've said before, it's just not fair that a person waits all winter for winter to be over, only to have spring make her miserable.

Ah well.  We may possibly be getting a bit of rain in the next day or two, so that'll help.  Please let it help.  I'm tired of having nothing else to say besides my brain hurts...

Going now.  This was almost a post, wasn't it?
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