I know the lyrics are “Reach out, touch faith,” but I hear “Reach out, touch base” or “Reach out, touch face”
Well. Cats and Kittens, today is both rant AND porn free.
I realized (when my mom sighed at me and told me) that I’ve been very “every little thing is a feminist issue or chance to bitch about our nanny state.” I’m not suddenly a non-feminist bitch or anti-nanny state. I’m just seeking balance. Mostly by completely losing it by writing. My brain is absorbed by my story. I’m muttering about it to myself. I walk into my living room and start conversations with my mom in the middle. I had the first half in my brain, and I forget to include her in those. I try to sleep but think about my book. Balance is for suckers.
I am working out at least. I am doing Pilates one day and arm stretchy band stuff the next day. It isn’t a huge routine, but I’m starting small. I do attempt moderation and sanity. I’m just sick of my body hurting. I figure if my body is going to hurt anyway, it might as well because I’m trying to make it stronger. I need to do measurements so I can see if I’m making progress.
Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, or more aptly put for me, I spend all day in the kitchen cooking for everyone. I need to go to the Super Wal-Mart for supplies tonight. Anyway, my mom has this daughter who loves baking experiments. I love trying to make things from scratch. She asked for a strawberry cake, so I went scouring the interwebz for a cake from scratch. I told her about the things I was finding, and she said “Can’t you just find a recipe that uses a box white cake and add strawberries.” After my feelings of sacrilegious baker’s rage settled, I talked to my buddy Paula Deen (or went on her site), and she told me about her cake box strawberry cake recipe (or I found it on her website). It feels a bit like cheating, but at least it will be easier.
Tiny cute busker
So, we all know I’m a disgusting person. This has been long established. We drink bottled water. I know this is terrible for the environment, but Chickasha water is still gross even after being filtered. I will bring a bottle into my room, drink part of it and then forget it. In my mind, after a few days it is a rotting cesspool of yuck. I end up with several have finished bottles of water that I am too paranoid to drink and too lazy to dump out and recycle the bottles. Earlier today, I brought in a bottle, took a drink, and set it by the other bottles of cesspool water, OR I finished and forgot. Now I have a suspect bottle sitting on my desk taunting me.
Okay, I’m going to go have a mini coma.
Geeks a Geeking