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pms to die for
September 22, 2008
So, having finally caught up on my sleep and all, I was a ball of fire on Saturday:
Making beds, vacuuming, dusting, sweeping, scrubbing, washing clothes, cleaning up the dog poop in the yard, taking out the trash, grocery shopping, duty call to parents, cooking, serving, and cleaning up after a nice pasta dinner.
And in between�I cleaned out and reorganized my movie racks, separating the TV shows from the films, getting everything back into alphabetical order the way I like it, and retiring more VHS tapes to the shelves in the basement. Took a couple hours, but I was absurdly pleases with the results when I was done.
And I did all of that in a perky, ditzy, chipper mood that struck Spouse as a bit strange. He kept looking at me like been taken over by aliens or something.
Then I woke up on Sunday to discover that Little Red Riding Hood was lost in the woods.
So I guess all of that crazy-busy stuff on Saturday was just a highly unusual form of PMS. Damn, I wish it could take me like that every month!
Thank goodness I had nada to do yesterday. Although this is one of the easier ones (after last month it had fucking better be!), it still put me in the mood to be bummy. I was ready for a day spent shoeless and in my jammies. Spouse had plans for the afternoon, too�so much the better.
We slept in for a bit, then I made us breakfast (bacon, eggs, toast, coffee) and cleaned up afterwards. Spouse got himself cleaned up and ready to go to the shooting range with a buddy, then spent an hour or so getting out and going over his .22s, rifle and pistol�getting them cleaned up and ready to go. He cleared out about noon, and I just bummed away. Read a bit, watched a little TV, noodled around on the computer, and payed intermittent attention to a couple of loads of wash I had going. Just a remarkably peaceful afternoon.
When Spouse got home, he was hungry�well, he�d been to a bar after the range, and a couple of beers will always make him hungry. He wanted steak, so I thawed a couple of strips from the freezer and got out some frozen twice-baked potatoes as well. Feeling that it was kind of a lackadaisical menu, I dressed it up by peeling some fresh carrots and whipping up a glaze from what I had on hand. FYI:
Orange juice, brown sugar and candied ginger, a smidge of 5-spice powder and some butter = Dynamite carrot glaze.
It being Sunday night, I cleaned up after dinner and settled down for a couple hours in front of the tube. Spouse has no interest in either True Blood or Mad Men (although the latter seems to capture him whenever he happens to see a bit of it), so he disappeared into the bedroom as usual to get in his web time.
True Blood was an interesting episode; dashing some of my notions about the characters, and where the plot was going. The whole �libidinal upsurge� side-effect of vamp blood seems to be giving our virgin heroine some trouble, I noticed.
Too much sex in this episode, overall, to suit my taste. (I hate Jason, so that may be part of it.) Although some of the sex going on made for an interesting potential complication.
And dog or not, Sam is not THAT dog�or a vampire�since we see him cavorting in the sun with the collie in question. But since he barks in his sleep, and called the dog brother, I�m still convinced Sam is a part-time canine.
MM was a repeat, to give viewers Emmy night off (I love Bryan Cranston, but Jon Hamm was robbed!). But since I hadn�t seen the ep they showed, it was cool with me. Having read the TwoP recap, I knew what was going on, but it was wonderful to see it.
Spouse came in and watched a bit of it with me�he always seems to catch the Roger scenes, and thinks he�s a riot.
Really, whenever Spouse catches a scene or two, it really seems to click with him. I think that eventually, he may get sucked in. There is hope yet�after all, it took me a season and a half to get him to start watching The Sopranos.
Ever floss a filling right out of your your mouth? Happened to me this morning--flossflossfloss, flossflossfloss, PING! a filling flies out, ricochets off the mirror, and scores a two-pointer in the sink.
Bunuvasitch. Now I've got to call the dang dentist.
At least today was a not horrible day at work�amazing how good your day can go when the boss is off, huh? Wasn�t like I slacked, either�I got quite a bit done. One of those days where (despite a heavy fog this AM) even the morning commute goes well.
Can I ask a question? Am I the only person that has items periodically just vanish from their house--specifically, their kitchen? This is something that happens to me periodically, and I am at a loss to understand it. An item--almost always a well-used and beloved item--will totally freaking vanish with no explanation. Today, it was my favorite baking sheet. That I've had for twenty freaking years. There is no logical reason why that pan should be anywhere but one of these three places: the sink, the drainer, or the pan cupboard.
But I just tore the kitchen apart, and it is gone. And I can only assume it has gone to the same black hole as my pizza peel, my vintage green Lipton teapot, and my rolling pin.
I live here with a dog and a husband who really doesn't cook much. and never bakes.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Reading: "The Other Daughter" by Lisa Gardner
Beading: no
Surfing: Lo Res. Fall Movie Preview. Not interested in any of them. I don't think anyone makes movies for me anymore.
Listening: NPR.
At Random: click here
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