Didn't you find shooting the .22 like floating on air?

The Walther P22 totally was! That's a great description. The revolver was just a .22 revolver, but it was heavy and just hilariously stereotypically Old West.

But at least they don't spit brass. I was so nervous about hot brass.

I was not so smart and wore sandals, and my toes kept getting hit with casings. But they weren't hot.

Now I want to go shoot guns.

We took another load out of my sister's apt, so now pretty much all that's left is the big stuff, like furniture. I should really feel more relief, instead I mostly feel kinda numb. DH is advocating for bringing more stuff home than I expected, so part of it is knowing I need to work on this end to make room.

I can't believe school starts Tuesday. Crazy.

Oh, I was going to say about the celery, I've pretty much swapped out celery for fennel in most instances where the first is recommended. Even mire poix most of the time. Stuffing is one of the only places where I feel like celery is tastier. But in salads? Fennel is delicious.

Hot brass down the cleavage is very attention-getting. I felt very Quentin Tarentino action heroine--after it stopped burning.

Oh, and in random segues, I needed to clear out some space in the liquor cabinet to make room for my sister's booze stash (which was WAY bigger than mine), so I now have sangria fixings macerating away in the back of the fridge. Thank you Kat for sharing your recipe. By way of repaying you, I'll let you know when we're drinking it and you guys can come over.

Ouch!

I should try the firing range thing someday. The only handgun I've fired was a starter pistol offstage (providing the sound for a prop gun on stage). Those have a lot of flash coming out the sides. Other than that I've only shot aluminum cans with a BB gun.

My parents were here for 2 and a half days and I made them walk 7 miles over that time span. It's no wonder they don't visit very often. I am grateful that in their mid/late 60s they are able to do that.

Numb makes sense. Sangria sounds nice.

I have been eating a ton of fennel, also. Celery and fennel are both lovely in numerous preparations. I pretty much eat whatever the nice CSA people deliver and the last few times it's been celery heavy.

So I have 9 breakfasts and 8 lunches made, and ingredients and recipes for 6-8 dinners and I think I'm done feeding myself for today so that's all for the future. And a pan of peaches roasted and just about ready to go into the freezer. Oh, and the cheesecake that I don't know how to count - mostly breakfast but sometimes other meals, in any case there's 16 servings of that (though not nearly that much smoked salmon) to hand. I shouldn't starve any time soon is my point, which is always satisfying for me.

Now I want to go shoot guns.

Me too! But sadly that's one thing the coworker negged in the "let's go do shit" plans. I thought for sure she'd be into it! She's from Texas!

Also, let me sadly NOT recommend Step Up. Because I had LOW expectations, and it did not even meet those. As my coworker said, "It may be too much to ask dancers to act...but damn, is it too much to ask screenwriters to write??"

HEY!!! OVER HERE!!!!! Invite me for sangria! Yes, that's terribly rude, but I feel I waste a summer if I don't share sangria with someone, and my non-babyFerg-related socialisation is my nurse. Who told my parents over Skype we were friends, which touched me.

However, now that GoT is on hiatus, she's hitting me with news questions ("What do you know about ISIS?" "Why do they wear masks if ebola isn't contracted that way"?) so I still need to research for IV day.

I wanna be numb. I've been twitchy all day and I'm worry about insomnia, which=insomnia. My mother is making the whole family read a self-help book--maybe that'll make me fall asleep.

And, Burrell, I'll go shooting with you. I had a good class near LAX where they take the guns apart and then let you shoot. For Krav we'd shoot in the Angeles Crest somewhere, and the teacher was brilliant but I don't remember his name. Those were law-enforcement oriented. And the school where I took shotgun was just appalling. Never go there again--they apologised with a free class for being douches. How about treating me like I can beat you up, accepting that you can shoot me from a distance? Or how about just treating me with the same respect the guys get (no, I did not bruise from holding the shotgun wrong. I held the shotgun right).

I've pretty much swapped out celery for fennel in most instances where the first is recommended.

I am so trying this! I like fennel. My celery issue is flavor.

My uncle inherited a bunch of his Mom's liquor and still has it. He drinks! How does he still have it? Apparently he's much more set in his ways than I would be. If I inherit booze because you moved or died, I'm trying it out. It will be used. Or declared yucky and stashed for weirdos. But mostly? Used. Everything is appropriate at some time or other.