Vactioning

I just got back from a weekend in Iowa with my sisters. Now, never mind that the majority of the weekend was consumed by anxiety over the random winter storm that poked at the Midwestern states. I feel like I need a real vacation. They ran me ragged!

...

Next time I take time off for a "vacation," I'm going to remember to take off some additional time to recover. *grins*

Keeping Promises ...

*points up* See how this promises random quotes from my life? Well, here's one that really tickled my funny bone that doesn't require much explanation ...

Jolie: I don't know who in the hell I axe murdered in my last life, but I sure hope I thought it was worth it.

As Promised … Ruminations on Normality

Isn't that a great word? Ruminations? *sighs happily* It's almost completely unusable outside of a college English department, but so are most of the words I like. …. except fiddlesticks. That's actually the exact opposite.

Anyway! On to the good stuff.

Jolie, Pukka, and I had a pleasant weekend up to and including when I had to leave. I didn't really want to go, but I have badish night vision, and it is a three hour drive, so I had to leave mid-afternoon. I'd delayed the inevitable as long as possible by playing a card game with Jolie, but the time had come. I hopped up, told them I was going to the restroom, and that they should try to act normal when I came back (they'd been odd all weekend – not that I didn't expect it, but you know).

I bid a solemn goodbye to Don Twiglet, one of the heads of the infamously powerful Kitten Mafia, and bounced down the hallway to the living room.

Where I found my brother-in-law Pukka balancing a cat scratching tree upside down on his stomach. He had flung his head back dramatically and was chanting, "Oh me. I am so normal. This is me acting as normal as possible. I am doing exactly what I normally do. Oh me."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him to pick up my coat. See, to tell the truth, I expected that from Pukka. He's just like that. Then, a high pitched giggle (remarkably similar to my own) mixed with a few snorts came from behind me. I froze already certain I didn't want to turn around and see what Jolie was up to. But, curiosity killed the Daphne (and the Adeline truth be told). So I reluctantly glanced over my shoulder.

And saw my sister standing in the space between the living room and the kitchen/laundry room with a pair of her underwear on her head.

(I think this is the part where I'm fairly glad Jolie doesn't know that I have this blog yet … because while we're both – supposedly – mature … she just might kill me for this.)

Needless to say, I died laughing. I demanded she take the darned things off so I could give her a hug. She protested they were clean, but I still made her take them off. Pukka, being a mischievous, troublesome sort, didn't take off the pair I finally noticed he was wearing too so he had to give my back a hug.

Now, I ask you, does this explain a lot?

Yeah, I thought it might.

Not an Excuse ... A Reason

For why I am the world's worst blogger (and tease).

See, when I would have updated, two weekends ago, I started car shopping. Out of nowhere, the very nice salesman (believe it or not there ARE nice car salesmen!) called me to tell me about a Ford Escort he was eyeing for me. *grins broadly* The poor guy. When I called him in December, I told him I wanted a manual, preferably a Ford (he works at a Chrysler dealership), with low mileage, good gas mileage, oh, and I wasn't willing to spend very much money. He was doubtful, but willing to look. Then he found the perfect car for me.

It was a little scary because things were just so very right, but after a few lessons from other car dealerships and salesmen, I decided maybe I'd just gotten lucky. I uncomplicated the situation that had gotten very complicated (by telling everyone "Go away!")

Then, a week ago, I became the proud keeper of Estelle.

That's not really Estelle up there. We're swimming in snow here in Illinois, and I've been concentrating too hard on shivering to get a picture of Estelle (yes I named her). But, that looks exactly like her.

So the last week I've been alternating between freaking out, getting snow dumped on me, freaking out some more, and trying to get some sleep. Great fun. I cross my heart hope to die that I will do my level best to get the "conclusion" to the last post up sometime this weekend.

Oh, and for those who (must!) wonder ... this is why I named her Estelle.

Estelle (who is a 2002) is inhabited by a little old lady. Most likely, by some portion of my great-grandmother (who was actually named Nellie, but it took me a while to realize that the car had a personality similar to Gramma 'Dino). Anyway, she's teeny tiny (only two doors), she creaks (the seat belt buckle on the driver's side), she's blue (that blue tint some women get from dying), AND she's sassy as all get out (the car honks at me if I get confused and try to lock it twice with the button). *grins and nods* Yep! Definitely Estelle.

Rediscovering My Inner Efficiency

Yeah, that doesn't mean anything. It just sounds impressive. And basically what it means is that I refound my little memory stick and my desire to sit in front of a computer and type words (as opposed to sitting in front of a computer – hey, it's mandatory at work – and reading words). It also helps that I have news to share from recent events.

In order to prolong your enjoyment of my happenings, I'll tell them to you slowly. One at a time in great detail. Ok, really I'm doing it because I think it'll make FeyRhi poke at me, and that's darned funny.

But, regardless of my motives, here we go. I went to see my sister, Jolie, last weekend (more on that interesting adventure to come). She's big on "entertaining" me for reasons I don't understand so as soon as we finished one thing I'd hear the dreaded, "So what do you want to do now?"

In fact, before I even sat down after I got there on Saturday, she asked, "What do you want for dinner, nerd?" (We're a very loving family.)

I suppose I should provide some background as to WHY I don't look forward to that question. See, I'm a relatively bossy being. Combine that trait with a desire to please, and you'll find out that I often tell the people I'm with, "I don't know" or "I don't care" because I don't want to ram my desires down their throats. Oh, and I'm also lazy so it's exhausting for me to figure out how to mesh my pickiness with others' likes. Hmm, *rereads* I think that makes sense. Anyway, it makes my sister nuts when I do this. Absolutely bonkers. So I try not to do it as often, but (obviously) I don't succeed.

This time, I was rather proud of myself. I didn't do it hardly at all.

For the last couple of weeks, I've been craving Chinese. But, alas! I've been spoiled. There is an absolutely incredible buffet where Jolie and her husband (*thinks* we'll name him ….. Pukka! ... because that's what she calls him) live. Actually, I learned that I like Chinese at this buffet (Jolie figured they had enough "other" and "harmless" stuff that if we found out that I didn't really like it I'd still be able to eat). So when I say I wanted Chinese, I really wanted The Peking Buffet.

So when she asked what I wanted for dinner, I proudly announced, "The Chinese buffet."

*grins* Are you ready for it? ……………..

"Well, that's in the opposite direction of the show. What else do you want for dinner?"

In the end, Pukka suggested a restaurant for dinner, and we went to the Chinese buffet for lunch the next day. Now, oddly enough (or not if you know me fairly well), the whole purpose of this story was not to tell you how "horribly abused" I am. It was to tell you about my fortune from my fortune cookie.

So why the long run around? Because I'm evil of course!

And speaking of evil ….

My fortune was "accept your inner good". Now if that doesn't bring up all sorts (ok, two really) of interesting possibilities, I don't know what does. Are the (not so) ancient Chinese mystics telling me that I need to stop being evil and embrace the light? (Pfftt, I don't think so! Not while there's still a Newfoundland to conquer!) Or are they nudging me toward a path of less self-recrimination? Am I supposed to be a kinder, more gentler me … to me?

Personally, I'm thinking about rocking out on the theory that I'm really a magnificently evil overlord. Newfoundland, let this be your warning. I have my spies in place, the Kitten Mafia is ready, and attack is imminent! Surrender now and save yourselves!!

*mutters* Now if only I could manifest Romeo and Scot and have them make me some swords.


PS – What you have to look forward to …

Next time on … THIS BLOG … tales of Jolie, Pukka, Daphne, and "normality".