So anyhoo...........just hanging out, wiiiiiiiiiiiiide awake, wondering what to blog about. I have a number of things to write about, but I don't have the inclination to go into anything remotely heavy right now. E.g., I want to write about earnestness; demands on/requests for one's earnestness; how to best distribute one's earnestness; how to best distribute societal earnestness; etc. E.g., Alas, A Blog is on my blogroll. The peeps there post about a lot of issues. Some of the issues are important to me. Often, there are interesting posts about these issues. Yet more often than not, I end up avoiding Alas, A Blog and head straight to Apostropher in the hopes that the folks there have posted something that will make me laugh. Or at least not bring me down.
Yes, I agree that: racism sux; sexism sux; poverty sux; the war in Iraq sux beyond belief; that stuff sux sux; etc. But a person could get all the way from waking to retiring dealing with the vast vastness of suckitude that affects the issues they consider important. I feel that, if I think an issue is important, I should keep current. And do something on behalf of the cause. But just reading the current stuff about important issues could take me from morning to night. I can't be doing that. (a) It's unproductive. (b) What a fucking drag. And no, I don't expect issues like sexism, racism, etc. to be entertaining, but I also don't want to spend my waking hours on a permanent downer.
And then I think, Is it wrong to want to be happy most of the time? There are people who ignore the niceties of life iot devote more of their time and effort toward The Cause. I know those people are out there bc they've shared their passion and enthusiasm with me (and others). I know they're out there bc I've seen the sacrifices they've made iot better serve The Cause. I know they're out there bc I've smelled them. But I don't want to sacrifice such niceties of life as those that keep one's body odor at a socially acceptable level and one's teeth in situ. Call me shallow, but it makes me happy to have a few cats, a decent home, regular dental care and Dial soap (among yes, so many other things). I thought it doesn't take much to make me happy, but when I think about all the important things that need to be addressed and how much work it would take...maybe I could have a smell sandiwch* for lunch all week long?
But like I said, I don't want to blog about this right now. So, what else is new? The carpet cleaners come tomorrow to try and save the carpet upon which HG spewed his unearthly leavings. That linked photo, btw, does not do the spew justice. We moved the bed out of the guest room tonight, which should have the happy consequence of making it easier for the carpet guys to do their mojo in there. It did have the unhappy consequence of revealing a CSI-worthy splatter of what I think is Yoohoo. Does it strike anyone else as odd that a grown man drinks Yoohoo? And why would one drink Yoohoo when one could put chocolate syrup in milk and drink something that actually tastes good? As an aside, HG would often buy Hershey's chocolate milk. Now
I don't want to discourage anyone from buying Hershey anything (I have a little stock in it; your Hershey purchases will contribute in a small, but much appreciated, way to my retirement**), but I did mention that we had Hershey's chocolate syrup and he should feel free to use it to add to his milk and make chocolate milk. Milk is expensive. (I read an article recently about the recent increase in food costs. Recently. Dairy prices have increased 11% since this time last year.) Chocolate milk is even more expensive and stupidly so. Does HG think making chocolate milk is a good idea? No. Why? Bc apparently anything that would save him money and make him less poor is a bad idea. He didn't actually say that; I attribute that reasoning to him bc I also don't know why he'd spend $100/week on cigarettes and an untold amount on scratch off lottery tickets when he can barely afford pain medication, but wtf do I know?
In other news, although I continue knitting squares for Kevin's afghan, I have decided to interject a new knitting project: a baby blanket. I like alternating texture, like in this baby blanket. There's a little of that going on in Kevin's afghan, too. I hope to finish the blanket before niece #7 is born. I make no promises, however, as I previously tried to 
knit a baby blanket for an impending baby and it's still incomplete years later. Thing is, wrt that blanket, it was one of the first things I tried to knit and, quite simply, it wasn't on. So many mistakes! So many dropped stitches! So many lost counts! It's a wonder I found the fortitude to pick up needles and yarn again. Although an experienced knitter would consider the pattern easy, it was probably too involved for my first project. I'm a better knitter now; I hope it will go a little better and faster. I ordered the same type of yarn as the linked knitter used, but in lilac. Actually, I thought I decided on yellow (such a happy color), but my order confirmation tells me otherwise. Although ultrasound indicates that niece #7 is a girl, I thought it best to hedge my bets color-wise bc it ain't over til the pregnant lady screams. Plus, girls get so much pink stuff thrown at them in life (oh, that's another thing that sux: pink oppression) that I loathe to add to it.
And that reminds me of something else I consider blogging about: So often I hear/read people talk about what little girls like/want/expect/dream about/etc. And so often it's so not my experience. Pink was never my favorite color; red was my favorite color for the longest time. It might still be, although I must say I've grown quite partial to green, so much so that I can no longer be certain of my own favorite color. The whole princess industry passed me by: thoroughly uninterested in being a princess. Fairy tale weddings? No interest. Furthermore, I lacked (and continue to lack) any comprehension as to why one would like or want, nay, dream about this stuff. So yeah, sometimes I've considered blogging about my lack of girly cred.
So I've basically just blogged about some things I didn't want to blog about. I'm off to knit a few afghan squares and then call it a night before I start thinking about Issues of Great Import that require Immediate Attention.
*From one of the Tightwad Gazette books, a compilation of Gazette issues. A reader sent this in as a way to save money on lunch (based on a Monday-Friday work week):
- Sunday night, make this sandwich: mayo (or some other condiment, e.g., mustard), salami, cheese (go crazy), on bread. Lettuce, tomato, etc. are okay, too.
- Monday morning: Remove the salami and cheese. Spread mayo on two new slices of bread. Put the salami and cheese in between the new slices of bread. Lettuce, tomato, etc. as desired. Wrap this new sandwich and put in fridge. Take the 'smell sandwich' of mayo, bread, lettuce, tomato, etc. to work for lunch.
- Tuesday through Thursday mornings: Repeat Monday.
- Friday: indulge and take the whole sandwich to work for lunch.
**Why have stock in Hershey's, you ask? I like to invest in stuff I like or at least like the idea. E.g., I like Reese's peanut butter cups. No, actually, I loooooovvvve Reese's peanut butter cups. Those miniature ones are the death of me. I can eat them like potato chips. I think the saltiness of the peanut butter and the sweetness of the chocolate are set exactly so that the saltiness makes me want to eat something sweet and vice versa. It's a vast confectional conspiracy. I've also had stock in Rubbermaid (good products); Kellogg's (I ate their cereal); Coca Cola (anyone who knows me IRL knows of my most violent affections toward diet Coke). IIRC, I have stock in Celgene, a biopharmaceutical company. One of their products is Thalomid. Yes, thalidomide. It's now used for multiple myeloma. I think I have some stock in some other bio company that does some cool stuff like grow body parts out of some cool bio-material. I may not have that anymore. My investment advisor has my permission to buy and sell, so I'll have to ask him about that before he leaves for work tomorrow morning.
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