Spike's Bitches 29: That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
...a sad, sad Bitch...
I just tried on the gorgeous corset that I bought last spring in SF at Dark Garden (the one in these pictures). I think I need to come to terms with the fact that it is too long for my torso. I am very short-waisted, and though it looks good on the surface, it rubs up far too high under my shoulders and irritates the hell out of me. I've only worn it once--that first night I bought it--and now I'm having to face that I may need to ebay the damned thing. I saved for SIX MONTHS to buy it! DAMN.
signed, really unhappy Bitch
This might cheer you up, Kristin. (Though I brought it here for Jilli.)
On You Tube, Placebo and David Bowie performing "20th Century Boy" live at the Brit Awards in '99.
Dunno about Jilli or kristin, but it cheered me up a little.
My First Blog Was a Garden Blog, Before the Apathy Monsters Attacked
Hee. I've thought about starting a garden blog "The Gimpy Gardener". I tried but only made a post or two before rain and landscaping changed the..er..landscape.
I've never had a worm bin. Didn't need to because I had a compost bin. Since I'm going to have to find 4 housemates and might not be able to be choosy about their crunchiness, it's better for me to have an outside bin than an inside one. Even if it doesn't smell, I need to take up as little of the common space as I can. I've already put most of my CDs in albums (still need to de-jewel-box a box or two). My LPs and books are going to be a problem, though. The mortgage is high enough that what I have to ask for the rooms is on the high side for this neighborhood (many of the houseshares around here are in houses that were bought 15 - 20 years ago and have much lower mortgages). I'm trying to do everything I can to make the house as attractive as possible without making it unattractive to me.
I sat out and pulled a few more weeds today. Gosh, it feels nice to be out in the garden. I haven't been able to do it in a while. I'm terrible at meditating. My mind chatters incessantly at me. But when I'm gardening, I'm much more able to *be* in the moment. Plus it's fascinating to see how much can change in the yard just overnight. Man, I wish I had the wherewithal to get a degree in horticulture.
Plei, is your garden blog still up?
Plei, is your garden blog still up?
Nope, sadly.
My friends have an outside worm bin, and it works well for them. I don't know how it's set up, though, and they're out of the country right about now, so I can't ask.
Well, the stench isn't quite so much the issue (in my opinion, anyway) with the regular compost. It's the amount of space it takes up and what it looks like. My mom co-owns this house with me and she's prissy about stuff like that. And if one of the prospective renters is prissy as well, that just tips it in her favor. I'm sure I'll find a place to make it fit but I have to see how the landscaping all pans out.
The house came with 4 large raised beds. It's a long rectangular yard plot. Tons of neighbors can see into the backyard so I wanted to get a privacy screen in. But I wanted it to be edible so we've planted feijoa, lemons, grapefruit, oranges and other standard size citrus and one short avocado. It'll be quite some time before that all fills in. I've got deciduous fruit trees three or four to a hole (pears, apples, plums, peaches and one almond), lingonberries, currants, cane berries (which will be in one of the raised beds to prevent spread), strawberries, beach strawberries, and some odd bits here and there. I just have to see where things really end up before I site the compost.
Rant warning.
Why do some people love horror movies so much that they feel compelled to subject others to them? Saying, "I really can't watch movies like this," triggers, "Oh, but you HAVE to!" as a response. Well, really? No. No, I don't. I can choose to be in a different room. Unless I'm at work, and have to administer medications from a desk/cupboard set-up that is all of eight feet from the tv.
What is so lovely and wonderful about feeling scared, anxious, angry, violated that they need, not only to make themselves feel this way, but also to make me feel it, too? I've seen their lives - the shit their families and ex-SOs and quasi-friends pour into them. Why is that shit not enough, they need to drink more? And then pour it into me? Why?
And, oh boy, they take their turn with the remote, watch one horror movie, isn't that the most wonderful thing you ever saw, but that's not enough! We gotta watch another.
Fuck 'em. I ain't ever going to apologize again for putting a boring history documentary on, and fuck me if I ever volunteer to give up the remote after so someone else can have a chance to choose what to watch. I'ma grab it and growl.
Rant warning.
When Bec was working at the retirement home, they had a selection of videos for the residents with dementia and such like to watch. Generally very soothing options, old musicals or romances, a couple of National Geographic specials. But I could never understand why they also had a copy of
Robocop.
Meanwhile! Wallybee has been given an interpreting assignment tonight, at 10 pm! This is crazy talk, she's normally in bed by then. But her loss is my gain, for I get to give her a lift to her assignment. (Not back, because she doesn't know what time it'll finish. But I would, if she asked. This is not a difficult cost-benefit analysis.) And guess what I found today? Chocolate penguins! They have a mango centre, apparently. I think she'll be stoked.
