Attack! of the Killer Weblog

I am feeling well with the universe today. The next two weeks are rapidly filling up, with real life finally pulling me out of the zoned-out stare at Moving Day. Which has been most of what's dragging me down. The waiting. O, the waiting.

But it is exciting ... how many times does one move into one's first home?

I'm not leaving the house much, as there's been so much to do. What with packing and cleaning and stuff. Neither of us feels like doing chores when Such Big Happenings are afoot. So when we run out of dishes, I'm here forcing myself through it. Blake's been doing the same with the laundry. And Jack has all of our jumping around and scratching stuff, covered. Lovecraft's ennui is threatening to devour us all. As usual.

But tomorrow is They Might Be Giants Saturrrrrrday! Woohoo! I haven't seen them since 2003, when my roommate and I drove to their free concert in the middle of the streets of St. Louis. Good times. This time around it'll be with my cousins and a friend of theirs--so no telling what this'll come to. I know I ought to be staying home and reading books and packing boxes, as has been my Saturday night for awhile now, but dagnabbit, I want fun, already. Kitty wants out of the apartment.

Posted by mb at 8:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Wooee, let's hear it for Shauna! Hostess with the mostest. She fixed everything, and I am pretty sure that if she's given dominion over world hunger, global warming, and genocide, she'll get everyone together having tea parties within the hour.

In parkas.

Anyhoodle. Blogging'll be light for a couple weeks probably. We're MOVING you see. It's hard for me to concentrate on entries when I'm not looking at any of my awesome stuff, because it is imprisoned in boxes, boxes which are everywhere and some are only mostly packed. It is driving me bonkers. And we are waiting. Waiting, waiting, for two weeks to pass so we can spend our first night in our spankin'-new house.

We have many offers of trucks and backs. Many enthusiastic compliments on pictures of said house. All of which is pretty awesome. And I've had help with packing up my stupid amounts of stuff. I have long thought that human beings amass too much stuff as we go about our daily lives, out of comfort mostly but also out of a desire to attain a level of awesome. Maybe. I don't know. I have had a very long and very hyper day, after a very long and very hyper night last night, which involved me and my cousin I haven't seen in three years getting an entire mosh pit to do-si-do with us. Every time, man.

I think I fell asleep already. Night, all.

Posted by mb at 11:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I know the blog looks like hell at the moment, and it is my fault! I don't know what the heck I did to it, but apparently I made it unhappy and it doesn't want to come to my birthday party anymore. This might have something to do with the MT4 debacle Shauna details here, but probably not. Though I'd believe anything at the moment.

Carry on.

Posted by mb at 9:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Today my husband and I drove across the river to one of our favorite goofy haunts: The Open-Air Flea Market!

Heavy on the flea, less so on the market.

It's open every weekend, year-round, and even though it's fifteen minutes away we rarely find our way there. Is it because there's little to no parking? Is it the terrifying knowledge that every step is likely to find your foot covered in anonymous goo or busting its way through the floorlike thing on the ground? Is it being hailed as "young missy" by a man with fewer teeth than hound dogs? Or is it the neighboring strip club, whose patrons have a tendency to shoot first and stab later?

Probably not that last one.

But I love flea markets. I can't help it. Half my furniture is vintage and the other half is old--and I love to bake and cook by hand. Meaning, if I want to cut shortening into pastry, I have to use a fork, because nary a department store will carry such a thing as a pastry cutter. But at the flea market, friends, you can find fifteen varieties, all for under a dollar.

And the cake decorating!

Last year I took a class on making fancy cakes, and ever since I've been impossible. Because, as a child, I was transfixed by wedding cakes that had columns and stairways. I thought that was the height of elegance, right there, and determined that I would one day bake a cake held up by columns.

Today I was riffling through a big box of random pieces to something that looked important, as my husband pawed through a case of excessive danger (knife form). I nudged aside a couple of pink cookie cutters and found a small bag of fancy-brand cake columns!

With no price tag.

And underneath was a fancy-brand cake leveller. Also, no price tag.

I asked the guy how much--a dollar for both--and was very proud of myself when I managed to get to the car before I let out a whoop of triumph. May not sound like much, but it gave me something to be excited about, on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Posted by mb at 11:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)