Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Let's not talk about it.

I'm starting this post in a dangerous way and that is to say, without a specific purpose or message in mind. And while it might seem that this is how I write all of my posts, let me assure that it is not.

Even if the message is retarded, racist, inflammatory or pointless - almost 100% of my posts have started with a specific purpose. Even if that purpose is as stupid as telling you that I'm happy.

But today - nope. No point. I only have things that I *don't* want to write a post about.

Like my commute situation and how people in California (and elsewhere? I can only speak for Californians in this respect) need to learn that, on a two lane highway, the left lane is for passing and the right lane is for driving and if you're in the left lane and you're not passing people driving in the right lane then GET THE MUTHER FUCK OUT OF THE LEFT LANE YOU NON-PASSING SLOW-DRIVING COW DICK.

See why I didn't want to write about that? It's useless. We can't do anything about it and it's not going to change and we all deal with shit traffic so who cares, is my thought.

Who cares because look at my new favorite hat.

I'm also not quite ready to go into detail about why I'm not going to be a tractor-driving farmer after all, because I feel like I need to sort of synthesize that whole deal for myself before I go throwing it out there for the world to judge and see.

You'll notice that I put "judge" first because I know how the world and I are similar and it is in our desire to pass judgement. I'm judging myself right now and it is not pretty. Or nice. But there are lots of swears, so at least I know it's me doing the judging. When I have my story straight for myself and I've completed an adequate amount of self-judging, I will put it out there for y'all to judge at will.

Meanwhile, check out these muther fucking leeks, man.
This is also kind of a vague useless hint. Enjoy.

I'm also studying for finals, which I definitely don't want to write about because I'm pretty fucking burned out on studying as it is and talking about it doesn't improve the situation any. Thankfully I'm going into finals with solid grades, so if I eff up and bomb them all, I can probably still get As.

That is the delusion I'm allowing myself anyway.

Study Cocktails. They're a thing.

Then there are the holidays which I'm blatantly ignoring. I'm not even making fun of people's absurd yard-mounted holiday cheer interpretations because they seem a bit lackluster and I think that's because it's been pretty cold here, by California standards, and these lazy fucks aren't getting out into the yard to vomit lights and inflatables all over their homes because I can't honey, I'm cold. 

Not that I mind, since it means that there is less hideousness from which I need to recoil on a daily basis, but it sure is making my nightly dog walks less amusing and why do you come here during the late months of the year if not to ogle and judge the horror that people call Festive Decorating.

I'll pass, mama.

I'm going to the spa for a massage today and before you get all It must be nice on me, I'll tell you that it's with a gift card I received as a thank you for administering sub-cutaneous injections to my friend's aging cat for 10 consecutive days and I'm spending the rest of the day studying for finals and writing this blog post so shuddup. I am, however, not working in the greenhouse today and for that I am grateful/excited/anxious/sad. I miss my plants when I can't check on them and I worry that a pest settled in the moment I left yesterday and it is taking this opportunity to irretrievably infest the greenhouse to the point of We Must Burn The Greenhouse To Save The Greenhouse.


The garden. Well, I could talk about the garden, but there's not tons to say since it's winter and the recent cold snap (It's been in the 20s. I know it's been colder wherever the fuck it is that you live.) has slowed everything down to a crawl and the only activity I've been doing out there is covering and uncovering shit so that it doesn't freeze in the night. The worms are still actively eating my trash and the bees are tucked away safely in their hive with the entrance reducer down to the size of a pinhole, so at least my garden creatures are safe and somewhat happy.

Spoooooooooooooooooooooky patio

And yeah, the last thing that I definitely didn't want to write a whole post about was the weather. The cold. People's reactions to the cold. People's UN-reactions to the cold. People's reactions to other people's reactions about the cold. Weather, pardon the mind-numbing pun here, is polarizing. And with its polarizing nature come people who want to, like, fight about how cold it is, or how NOT cold it is, or how it's colder here than there and oh you'd die if you were where I live and I can't believe you're even saying anything since what you have is not cold THIS IS COLD and such.

Dudes, I get it. It's winter everywhere in this hemisphere. Some places it's more extreme than others. And some people who live in places where the weather is less extreme than other places get cold when the weather seems warm enough for you to be outside in a bikini pruning the hedges.

Good for fucking you. Good for fucking me. It's not something that I want to get into beyond look at what my fingers do when I walk the dog in 30 degree temps without gloves on.

As my hysterical friend commented, "Phone hoooooooooooooome".

I just think it's funny.

My body is a weirdo. I have shitty circulation that runs in the family and this isn't even the worst example of shitty circulation that my body has exhibited today. The other morning I went for a run when it was 23 degrees out, wore all of my running gear including gloves, tights, a hooded vest, long sleeves and earwarmers, and when I got in the shower afterward, my entire body was red from the cold and my hands looked like marbled beef with white spots where the blood had stopped flowing/frozen in place and red spots where the blood was still moving/trapped between frozen spots.

I laughed and called Bubba into the bathroom to look at my bright red bod and freaky marble fingers. He laughed at me, smacked my red butt and went back to bed. Because he is classy and hilarious and thinks the cold makes my body do weird and amusing things, too.

Thanks to our annual ski trips, he's had lots of chances to get a load of these cherished moments first hand.

I'm just glad the weird thing my body did wasn't DIE.

So yeah, I'll work on a post about the Not-A-Tractor-Farmer thing and, meanwhile, you can tell me about the shit that YOU don't want to talk about.

There must be something, right?

Something that's just been hovering around in the back of your head and it's annoying, but not so annoying that you'd dedicate any internet space to it, except now you have the perfect opportunity and I want to know it.



  1. There was a little fun-making of the "absurd yard-mounted holiday cheer interpretation," right? The words "absurd," "lackluster," "lazy," and "vomit" tipped me off. I still enjoyed the post, dearie. You are a smart gal with a potty mouth and I like those qualities.

    1. And I like you, "Karen B.", and your tasteful holiday decor, cute dog and sass mouth. Drinks soon, please!

  2. We had to go out in the frigid (by California standards) cold and pull ripe oranges off our tree, lest they freeze and get shitty. It sucked but we have tons of glorious, somewhat tart oranges to eat. I don't think the rest are going to make it. Or maybe they will...I'm not counting on it, though.

    Also, I want more knitting time but now I'm sharing knitting time with playing on Husband's new DS and being sick. ::sigh::

    1. Don't be sick! Sick is so boring and snotty! Be well by turning all of those mushy oranges into juice. I plan to go over to my friend's place and pick all of her oranges so that I can go on a fresh squeeze juice binge.

      Hope you get your knitting time in. Now that you say it, I miss my needles too. Boo.

  3. Here in Indiana, there can be THREE lanes for traffic and there will be a car in each lane and they will all be going the same slow speed. If a cop shows up, they all go slower, even if they are barely going the speed limit.

  4. Sneaky pup who continues to use the living room as her personal "outhouse alternative", and chew on the Christmas light cords when we aren't looking. Yep. We should probably buy stock in rug cleaner, cayenne pepper and Bissel. Don't want to talk about it.

  5. We're supposed to go snowshoeing tomorrow in celebration of my husband's 32nd birthday. The whole happy family. Except since one member of the family is not even two years old and has not really hardened himself to single digits and blowing snow, and another member of the family is, uh, me (I don't do hiking for fun and I sure as shit don't do hiking in big-ass awkward shoes in the snow and cold for fun--I know you disagree, that's cool), I don't foresee a rockin' good time. But I will do it and do my best to make it fun, because that's what you do for birthdays. How the fuck I ended up married to someone who wants nothing more than to haul small children to a remote swamp to snowshoe in pretty severe weather is beyond me, but here I am.

    P.S. Those lettuces are so perfect, they don't even look real. Way to go, Finn. Also, I miss lettuce. Fucking winter, man.

    P.P.S. I also miss swearing out loud. But I don't really want to be That Mom, so here we are, gosh darn it.

  6. Shit, I'm from Albuquerque and there can be six lanes of traffic and some motherfucker will be going the wrong speed in staggered lanes across all six. Mostly that wrong speed is slow, slower, and FUCK YOU BUDDY slower than that even, you of manana and all.

    Things that annoy me but don't get discussed: today that seems to be people who produce information of record, that's wrong, and they could not care less that other people ( are somehow doing the wrong things because of it. Ohm....

  7. Your Lettuces are looking really nice :),
    Clipping Path.

  8. Wha? Not a farmer? Well with that big education you can come be my boss at the big USDA. Maybe you can get your site unblocked too haha.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.