It Stoned Me Just Like JellyRolls

But I'm not getting stoned tonight, at all. Don't look for me Tuesday night, though.

Normally Sunday night is Scrabble time; I get together with my high school friends to play Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit and watch movies and eat a lot. That didn't happen. Instead, I went to Brown's Diner, which has excellent cheeseburgers and barbecue (not as good as Justine's) and went to see A Series of Unfortunate Events, which was OK too. Then I found out that my plans for tonight had fallen through, so I came home.

I'm taking advantage of this unscheduled alone time to:

* hang pictures and wall scrolls, which has been wanting doing since I moved. Of course, I don't have the benefit of a hammer (can of International Coffee, meet nail!) so it's not surprising that I've let this one wait.

* clean the bathroom (and it needed it; one of the cats had ripped open a chocolate and, instead of eating it, had smeared it all over the counter, and by "one of the cats" I mean probably the MK, L'mn'j'lo.) Also, tried to scrape the paper that's stuck to the glass computer table, which was only partially sucessful.

* clear a path in the living room from all the stuff that's set up refugee camp there since it was ousted from the Skeksis-free van. I also moved the furniture out of the hall. Also moving around the furniture into a more copacetic configuration -- I have a smaller table next to my computer chair now, huzzah.

* mostly, however, to enjoy my DVD player and still more South Park Season Four.

"Jews are tough!"
"Since when?"
"Since Abraham, fatass!"

That way the house will be reasonably nice when the guests come on Tuesday night. I will probably bestir myself to go to Kroger and set in provisions for the week -- but before I do that I have to clean out the fridge, which is not my idea of a good time.

The kitten has a new trick. Yesterday I slept somewhat later than usual, and apparently I woke up a couple of times during the dream I was having (about trying to finish my French final in time to graduate) because during the latter part of the dream I was also being stalked by a panther.

I woke up and realized that the kitten has learned to climb the closet door and walk along the wall-facings between the closets. Of course, eventually she got tired of that and started to cry until I took her down.

I also have a new neat opaque window-cling for the bottom half of the window in my bedroom, so there's more light in there now. And I think I'm getting rid of the coffee table I never use and the extra kitchen table (don't ask), but I'm waiting on a callback from the guy who wants it.

Does this mean I'm nesting? I like these decoration details, but hopefully they're not boring y'all to death. Here in a bit I have to temporarily take down the computer and separate stuff out, so I can move the furniture around on this side of the room and put the CPU on the table.

So I'll be out for at least a bit. Not quite as fun as eating mushrooms, but I suppose it needed to be done. And the walls are more fun to look at now. Of course, once I'm done with all this easy crap, I get to steam clean my floors, which will take forever and leave me aching, but it's all baby steps.

Currently reading:
Armadillos & Old Lace. If you've never read a Kinky Friedman book, you should. In fact, I think the literary product of Mr. Friedman is the only point on which GWB and I agree. (At least, according to Molly Ivins. Myself, I have a sneaking suspicion that ol' George is limited to audiobook, if you take my meaning.)
The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. This is one of the most valuable "self-help" books I've ever read. In fact, it's just about the only one I've ever read for which I have any respect at all. It's deceptively simple in its ideology, but it's reasonable and realistic, and not Dr. Phil.

Currently re-reading:
Have Space Suit, Will Travel. One of my favorite juvenile Heinleins.

Still awaiting:

my yOni lunar calendar & pussy purse
Principia Discordia

(I do have a parcel waiting for me at the post office tomorrow morning, so probably at least one of those things is coming off the list.)

And I have to leave bad feedback on eBay, which I hate to do, but it's basic rules that you tell someone if the sweater you're selling them has a hole the size of a nickel in the sleeve, or if the "patchwork" skirt you're selling is a preprinted pattern and not, well, actual patchwork. Be warned.