09.01.00 - The Blog, as they don't say, is almost ready. Say goodbye to Aya-kun in the header! Well, actually, he'll still be here on the archive pages, but the new blog pages won't have him.

Aya-kun! Shiiiiné!!
way too late
 
The nifty people who brought you Fushigi Yuugi dot com have a sister site at Ayashi dot net. Ayashi no Ceres ("Eerie/Suspicious Ceres") is coming out to America in late 2000/early 2001 for those of you who look forward to it. I know I do. It's based on the manga of the same name by Yuu Watase, who also wrote and illustrated Fushigi Yuugi. And, like Fushigi Yuugi, it's one of those "tangled romances" type stories. Y'know, girl loves guy, guy doesn't know if he loves girl, guy decides he loves girl, other guy also loves girl, girl turns out to be a supernatural being with incredible power who can't have romantic relationships, girl can't decide between the two guys, girl finally decides, guy and girl set forth to figure out what to do with their lives.

Hey, if it wasn't tangled, it wouldn't be any fun. ;)

And yes, I am currently listening to the opening song, "Scarlet", which I got from the site. It's not a jazzy/poppy song like most anime -- but then, neither really was the Fushigi Yuugi opening theme. The opening sequence features the two main characters -- Aya and that guy who looks like... uh...Aya from Weiss Kreuz -- with Spontaneously Combusting Clothing. Oh yes. There's always some form of Spontaneously Combusting Clothing in the intros to good shoujo (Japanese girl's) romances.

Which reminds me -- I'm gonna watch Key: The Metal Idol tonight, and shop for more furniture tomorrow. Yay me!

USAA doesn't want to loan to me. I have to wait till Tuesday to try Wells Fargo. Y'know what? I hate going to get loans. Mom was a loan officer, but I still hate going to get loans.

$300 piece of dental apparatus in my mouth, and what do I do in the middle of the night? Spit it out. SPIT IT OUT. THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS! Well, at least I was able to find it in the morning.
way too early
 

08.31.00 - New for Mooville.net: Badges!

I had my final four fillings done today. These were the "easier" ones, and it only took thirty minutes (as opposed to the two-hour fill-a-thon of last time). He only wanted to do two, but I insisted that he do all four and spare me more weeks of waiting anxiously for the next dentistry appointment. He confirmed what his wife told me on my last dental visit -- I have a very small mouth.

There was one frantic moment when he told me to close my jaw and I couldn't. My jaw goes clicky-clicky -- for me to open it fully I have to do a little thing with the socket that shifts my jaw around. Yes, I know, that sounds disgusting, and I don't know why it does it -- survey says it's probably TMJ, for which I need a really good chiropractor because there is no way anyone is going to convince me to get my jaw operated into.

Anyways.

Sometimes, it locks open. My jaw, that is. When that happens, like it did today, there's a moment where my brain flips back to the primitive thinkings of my early feline ancestors, and I think, "Oh God. I'm stuck. I'm never going to close my mouth and now I'm never going to be able to ride a motorcycle again and my tongue is going to shrivel up and dry out."

And then I remember the trick to closing it, and it clicks shut again.

I also have a nightguard now. This supposedly will help with the clicky jaw, but the aesthetic creature inside me can't help but notice that these devices are terribly unromantic. They (or mine, at least) cover your top row of teeth in clear plastic so that you don't grind your jaw while you're sleeping, and knowing the male gender's tendency toward morning activities, it's going to be -- hm -- "interesting", to use an overly tired word.

My carpet was floating last night when I walked into my bedroom. They (that is, the maintenance guys) pried up a corner of the carpeting and stuck a fan over the hole, resulting in a constant breeze under the carpeting, resulting in floaty carpet. It was fun to walk on and even funner to watch. Makes me wish I had a Nikon 950. (Curse you, Dave Metzener!)

Unfortunately for Bubba, Dr. Burns only used one shot of novacaine -- as opposed to the three of last time -- so no Lorne Michaels/Dr. Evil impersonations today for -me.

No, not even a little bit.

Call me Doctor Worm
Good morning, how are you?
I'm Doctor Worm
I'm interested in things
I'm not a real doctor,
but I am a real worm

08.30.00 - The Nile is in my bedroom.

I got up this morning and was proceeded by my cat escort, who walked into my bathroom, stopped, and flattened her ears. This was unusual -- and I was chiding her for being weird on me -- until I realized that the reason she was behaving in that manner was because my bathroom floor was covered in water.

Hm, thinks I. I know it was dry when I went to bed....

I've been having a little bit of water leakage for the last week, and I just assumed it was the A/C, which -- if you live at Remington Apartments -- you know they're prone to leak. So I asked Jeff to call the maintenance guy for me while I got a quick shower, and did so.

I got out of the shower, threw my now sopping bathroom rug in the wash, and looked down to see....

Water. More water. Water everywhere, under the washer and dryer, soaking into the carpet.

Hm, thinks I. It's worse than I thought.

So I yelled at Jeff to tell the guy when he showed up that it was more than just the bathroom, it was the wash room, too, and then I went into my bedroom to get dressed.

Walked toward my closet.

Squish.

Squish?

Squish.

Carpet isn't supposed to go squish. It was then that I looked down and saw that there was a watery footprint in my carpet, and little tiny watery catprints trailed across the floor of my closet.

Okay, Jeff, I say. It's worse than we thought. And just then, the maintenance guy shows up.

He walks in, checks behind the washer. Hm, gee, that looks fine. Did I run a wash last night? No. Did I run one this morning before I noticed the problem? Nope. Hm. Maybe it's the condensation hose of the A/C.

Whatever. Please fix it.

He walks outside to grab a fan. I wait, glancing anxiously at the clock. I have a meeting in twenty minutes that I can't be late for. I'm not pleased.

He comes back in and tells us -- Guess what? It's not you guys. It's the guy next door.

Hunh? I think. How could that guy's A/C have leaked over here?

But it's not the A/C. Turns out the guy next door was running a load of wash and the "boot" of the washer -- whatever that is, I'm guessing it keeps a hose in place -- broke. Filled his apartment. And began to seep into mine. The result?

Inundation of Per-meryBast!

I went to work, found out the meeting was moved to 4:30, went back home, and started cleaning out my bedroom. Jeff disassembled my bed and moved it into the living room, and we took all the stuff off my bookshelves and stashed them in boxes, luggage, anywhere we could fit them. None of the Bubastis stuff, thank God, was hurt. I would have been more than a little upset if my 100 year old books on Tell-Basta had disintegrated.

What I did lose, though, were the two sheepskin rugs in my closet, my suede medieval boots, and some unimportant papers. My computer at home is also completely covered under boxes, blankets, and stuff. A quarter of my warddrobe is soaking wet.

Mom wanted me to try and get compensation, but I already feel bad enough for the guy next door who, according to our lease contracts, is completely liable for all damages and cleaning expenses. I could demand money for the stuff I lost, but really -- it could have been any of us that this happened to. I didn't even know about that clause. I certainly don't know what I'd do if the apartments slapped me with a $1000 cleaning and carpet replacement bill.

All the Akhu on my mother's side say: "Oiiiii!"

Oiiiii!

Anyway, that was my exciting morning. I'll buy new sheepskin rugs over at IKEA, and the boots really weren't kind on my feet anyway. I always wonder what I'm going to put in my journal, and then something like this comes up, and I remember why it was I started writing this thing in the first place.

Stuff happens.

Oi!

08.29.00 - I have a very simple philosophy...I got it from a friend once:

Don't ever say anything in public about someone that you wouldn't say to their face.

I don't like the phrase "works with" in reference to a god or God.

Perhaps it's my acute grasp of the meaning of words, but whenever someone writes me to say they "work with" Bast or (insert any other deity here), my first impression is not a favorable one.

I feel, I guess, that people who use this phrase are wimping out of saying that they worship a god. And I think understand why. "Worship" is a very powerful term. It has multiple meanings, and some of them -- submission to a higher power, for example -- can be intense and even dreadful (that is, full of dread).

But it should. It absolutely should make you stop and think when you use that word. Phrases such as "work with" take away that thoughtfulness. They give the user the illusion of a back exit and strip them of empowerment by turning a relationship with God into the theological equivalent of a blind date.

Imagine a Christian saying they "work with" Jesus, or a Buddhist saying they "work with" the teachings of the Compassionate One.

God does not "work with" us. God works upon us.

08.28.00 - A pleasant blend for those of you who are taking care of someone with chronic debilitating illnesses or the dying is geranium and lavender, about 1:2 ratio (one geranium for every two lavender). I think it's uplifting. The geranium softens and sweetens the lavender, the lavender cuts through the geranium's strong sweetness. Used as a 1-2% dilution in some sweet almond oil it is suitable for gentle massage, or drop some in a diffuser (or a bowl of hot water if you don't have a diffuser) that you've placed in the room of the person.

We went to the Chicago Ikea. IKEA! I've been domesticated. Seriously, though, it was a really neat store with fantastic furniture. Three stories, something obscene like 300,000 square feet -- busy enough that they needed the local police to direct traffic in the parking lot -- this is the Disneyland of furniture stores. And the things inside make you wish you had a dozen or so houses and the money to furnish them all. As Dave put it -- "It's cheap without looking cheap." Amen to that.

The most fascinating thing about Ikea was the mix of people shopping there. I heard at least five languages being spoken while I walked from floor to floor. It was somehow encouraging that the world can get together to agree on the vast, awesome power of the Ikea.

And now Bubba is jealous of me. :> He has only ordered from Ikea over the phone. He has not yet made his pilgrimage to one. Hee hee.

Can't shake the devil's hand
and say you're only kidding

08.25.00 -

08.23.00 - So then, suddenly...she put up a page on yesterday's Wag Festival.
8:59 PM
 
 
Two garments I love to buy and wear, but rarely do: hats and masks.

One garment I hate to wear, but do every day: bras.

If only bras were as fun to wear as hats and masks.

Ah, the things one can do with a webcam image and a well-worn copy of PaintShopPro 4.0. Hm. I kind of like it. How bout you?
4:46 PM
 
 
Two of my favorite poems ever were both written by Langston Hughes -- "Advice" and "Harlem Night Song".

I'd have to say right up there with them, though, is "You, Darkness" by Ranier Maria Rilke.

And then after that, anything about that guy from Nantucket.
1:30 AM
 

08.22.00 - Happy Wag Festival everyone!

Ankhka and I will be heading out to the historical cemetary at my lunch hour to visit the dead and pour water for them. I'm adding entries to the Virtual Abdju as well during this time for Shemsu and Remetj. You already saw my mail about it if you're one of the above, but I invite the rest of you to go over there and write something in the provided area to your near and dear amongst the Akhu. Sometimes it's good to talk to your dead, especially if you feel something about their death went unresolved or if you just want them to know you miss them.

My grandfather sends his own messages on these days, though I think this is the first year I've started to notice them. When I came into work and ripped off yesterday's date on my day-to-day calendar, I looked down to see that today's entry said:

Tuesday, August 22 - Norman Rockwell officially launched his professional career as an illustrator in 1916 when he sold his first cover to The Saturday Evening Post.

08.21.00 - New stuff. Working on. Will see more later.
8:34 PM
 
 
Must remember to read Carol's website more often.

Tonight I took a bath in the dark, because you do that if you're me. I had a candle lit, and the door cracked open so it was gloomy rather than pitch black, and as I soaked in my rose-patchouli-bay-peppermint waters, relaxing slowly, I listened to nothing but the silence, which has its own voice if you know where it's hidden.

Then I looked down and saw that my cat, who hates water, was sitting next to the bathtub.

"Hi," I said.

She blinked at me.

"What are you doing here?" I inquired.

She gave me a look, flicked her tail, and laid down.

I have a most unusual cat. I'm told these are Main Coon qualities, the dogged faithfulness. When she was still a kitten, and didn't know that water = wet, she used to try to climb in with me.

Now I, two years younger and lying in my bathtub, knew she was going to try for it. She was standing on the edge of the tub, looking down at me and the water, and she had that look in her eyes. And I knew she was going to try it, because I know cats.

But I didn't stop her.

I have a simple logic in these situations. If I stopped her, she'd have tried again and again -- maybe not that day, but definitely at a later date. I figure it's the same way I'd handle a child. I knew that as soon as my cat stepped into the water, she'd realize that water = wet, and she'd jump back out. And that would be the end of her days of trying to curl up with mom in the bath.

She did jump in. I had pulled myself into a corner so I wouldn't get scratched up when she realized her error, and I helped her back out, where she promptly zipped out of the bathroom to hide someplace.

Two years later, looking down at her from the bathtub, I raised a brow and said, "Going to join me?"

She did not deign to comment.
2:55 AM
 

08.20.00 - Don't be content to just live life. Devour it.

We carry things with us, whether we realize it or not. Years later, we may. Or we may not.

My grandfather used to sing to me. When I walked down the stairs, he would sing the "Miss America" song, and when I'd ask what the difference between jam and jelly was he'd sing back: "It's gotta be jelly, cuz jam don't shake like that."

He sang the "Swing on a Star" song to me. He used to tell me stories at night, when he'd sit awake till four or five am.

I realized the other night, while lying in bed talking to the darkness or to him or to both, that I have walked forward through life with the unmistakable handprint of his actions upon me. Jeff and Dave josh me about the way I seem to be singing all the time -- well, Papo is the reason why.

I just didn't realize it until I was lying there talking about it to him, and then I knew. Or he reminded me.

My mom was also fond of singing to her daughters when they were little, and now to her grandson. She probably got it from Papo, too.

That's what I remember of him, though. Walking down the stairs at our house in the desert, and him singing that song to me.

Here she comes
Miss America

08.19.00 - Lunch today was really excellent. We (Ankhka, Peryt, and I) went to Brandt's Cafe and I had the grilled pear and brie on brioche. Accompanied it with some very spicy ginger beer (non-alcoholic) that just about knocked my socks off. Hoy yeah. It was gooood.

Then Ankhka and I bid Peryt adieu and headed off to Wild Oats so I could buy some pears and brie. ;)

08.18.00 - So....

I ordered some Nature's Gate moisturizer in addition to the other stuff I bought. Not only does the company have a name that reminds me of my old days as a AD&D roleplayer, but I guess I'm used to buying my face moisturizer in little jars, because this one came in one that I could club a baby seal to death with.

Moisturizer. Moisturizer. MOISTURIZER.

Bahahaahahahaha.

It smells like watermelon, too. Or white ginger. White ginger reminds me of watermelon, so that may be me. And since they said "natural fragrance", and watermelon fragrance definitely ain't natural, chances are it's the awapuhi, not watermelon.

He has until May. After four years, hours of waiting and hoping, I'm a different person. I can still space out and get weird and cry when I see the ending to Braveheart, but I'm different. Better. Stronger. More absorbent. No, wait, less absorbent -- my brain casing has begun to harden, but I'm trying to get back to that place I was in when I was a child, and I loved and waved at everyone, and I didn't know what it was to H-A-T-E.

He has until May. I told him I love him, that it's not over because I have fallen for anyone else, that I haven't stopped loving him, but after four years, I'm not going to wait anymore. If he comes out in May, great. If he doesn't, then that's fine, too. I have a life, and I cleared room for him to be a part of it, and he didn't take the chance. If he wants to be a part of it now, he'll have to come here and ask nicely.

Yes, I was the one who left Berkeley. Okay. Fine. I'll give him that. Maybe I should have tried to think of another solution, but this was the way the cards fell, and ultimately I think it went toward the better. Like the rest of my family, he kept hoping I'd give up on Missouri and move back west, but that didn't happen. And he should have known after two years that it wasn't going to happen, but maybe my temporary lay-off back in 1997 made him think it was just a matter of time.

And yes, he's taking care of sick friend, but y'know what? It's been four years. If the friend is more important than me, and my stuff out here is more important to me than moving back there with him, then maybe it's time to think this over. He feels endebted to this friend. That's very noble. But it's not making our relationship any better. I feel very much like I want to stay here for a while longer, and have no plans of going back to San Francisco anytime soon. That's my choice, and perhaps if I didn't have these friends and this desire to be closer to the physical House of Netjer, I would have moved back already. But I do have them. And so I won't be going.

I just want those of you who have been silently standing by to know -- I know you love me, that it pains you to see me unhappy and alone, that you see me as being incapable of doing any wrong in this relationship, but you have to understand that I made a choice to leave San Francisco. He made a choice to sit and wait and hope I'd come back to him, and then he made a choice to take care of a disabled friend. Neither of us is right or wrong -- but after four years, it's time to either put a fork in it and say it's done, or one of us has to budge. And while I love him to death, I have plans of a family, a career, of finishing college -- that can't happen out there. And since I'm not budging from where I am here, guess who has to?

So, that is the oft-avoided subject of my personal life. Just in case any of you were curious or concerned.

My tub in my bathroom drains fine ever since I scoured it. I used to be forced to take bath-showers, but no more! Ah, the power of CLEAN.

08.17.00 - An Interview with Dave Eggers. You can ignore most of it -- what you really ought to read is the addendum at the bottom. Good statement.

Right now, my computer at home is broadcasting, but it won't be after I get home around 9 PM Central, so if you want to listen a little, feel free. If you have winamp and a high speed (Cable/DSL/T1/T3) connection, open up winamp, hit CTL+L and enter http://216.32.166.87:18354. It's mostly instrumentals from Japanese animation, with one bonafide j-pop tune from Macross Plus at the end ("Information High"). I like it, but then, that's me :)
4:24 PM
 
 
At first I thought the Kali and Shiva lunchboxes were pretty funny. Funny in a cool, righteous sort of way.

And then...

And then I found the Jesus action figure.

Novel-born quote for today:

An angel is just a demon with a lot more self-control.

08.16.00 - Amidst the hassle of trying to brainstorm the website's rewiring with Dave, a marker, and a whiteboard, I manage to find a way to bring you all a little music. It's some of the stuff I've been listening to lately, as well as a few old favorites. Beware, there is Japanese singing, so if you don't like that you might not like this. Will be playing with this more over the next few days. For now, if you have a fast connection and don't mind the really bad sampling rate (I'll work on that), take a look at the live365 station I set up.
5:11 PM
 
 
...meanwhile, back in my head:

Nothing in life is free.
Really?
Really.
Why is that?
That's what they say.
They also say the best things in life are free.
Hm.
I think they take breathing way too much for granted.
True.
Green light.
Hunh?
Light. Intersection. Cars. Honking. Behind you.
Oh. Yeah.

08.15.00 - Ah, the madness of getting your own place to rent....

I think Jeff will want to talk about this, so I'll let him. We haven't yet secured the place, but we know where we want to move, and we'll know in a couple days if we got it or not.

I'll put up photos of the new house if we get it. We're not buying, just renting, but it's going to be so nice...sooooo nice....

My jaw hurts. I have lots of work to catch up on. I'm listening to tracks from Please Save My Earth. Yum.

Page on Kanno Yoko, and yet another. I love this lady's music. If you've ever seen Escaflowne, Cowboy Bebop, Please Save My Earth, Macross Plus, Turn A Gundam, and a few others, chances are you heard something Kanno Yoko did. The author of the first page suspects that Yoko-san is also the singer Gabriela Robin, who appears frequently in soundtracks done by Yoko-san, but nowhere else (hmmmm!). Since Yoko-san is known to speak English (and a smattering in other languages), it wouldn't be too unusual for her to pick an American-sounding pseudonym, especially since she seems to love to play with fake languages in her songs ("Green Bird" and "Cat's Delicacy", for example).

I love gazpacho. That is my new fun word to say. Gazpacho! Mmm. Gazpachorific!

Cha-saa fuu-ra ti-rei-aa

08.14.00 - My mouth is full of novacaine. It feels very weird. She had to inject me three times to achieve happy numbness. I'm going to be like this for hours. Blah.

When I walked out of the office, I started doing all the dumb thing I think anyone on novacaine for the first time in a decade does -- I poked my face. Cool. I couldn't feel anything. And then I realized -- damn, I have soft skin.

So is this what it's like for someone else to touch my face? I've always wanted to get outside my body and take a look at me, like in that episode of the Transformers where Spike's brain was put into an Autobot. This is sort of like that. Look! Look! I can poke myself and not feel anything! How cool is that? Poke poke poke poke!

And then of course there is the lisp. The left side of my mouth is partially immobile, so I sound like P.W. Herman's less sex-oriented sibling. So when I got back to the office, I hunted down Jeff, looked him square in the eye, and said, "Jeff. I want you to hit me ath hard ath you can."

Hopefully this stuff will wear off soon. It's so strange not to feel pain when you know you ought to be. It was like that when the dentist was working on me. There are all these radio signal-esque noises going on inside my mouth, and I know she's grinding into my teeth, but all I feel is this dull buzz that I know would have me screaming if not for sweet, sweet novacaine. So while drooling all over myself is weird and annoying, I'm happier with it than without.

Poke!
6:14 PM
 
 
Bubba came by today and reminded me that some of you have no idea what I'm talking about. Not that this is unusual, but I think what he means is -- you have no idea what I'm talking about.

So I'll provide some explanations, and hopefully put my "cast of characters" thing back up, just so you won't be in the dark (mental note to self -- put a link to the review pages, too, while you're at it).

imy-set'a - lit. "assistant" or "acolyte" -- a priest in training
imakhu - lit. "revered one" or reverend
kai-imakhu - exalted reverend -- one who oversees other priests
Nisut - lit. "ruler" or some sort of equivalent -- my religion's equivalent to a Pope or Dalai Lama

ma'at - order, truth, respect, what is right -- comparable to the Tao or dharma (but not Greg)
hem(t) - servant, wife, slave, ruler -- it has multiple meanings. When in reference to me as hemt-(whatever), however, it means "servant of" that thing
Netjer - God -- well, that was an easy one
Bast - my spiritual Parent, that is the face of God that I am the most likely to understand. My spiritual Mother, not to be confused with Carol, my birth mother. I haven't disowned you, mom.
monolatry - the belief that God is essentially one with a vast number of aspects or "names" by which It can present itself to people. The idea is that people are different, and God understands this. Hence, the multitude. In Kemetic Orthodoxy, there are over three thousand deities. Hinduism, often misnamed a polytheism, is similar in nature, as are most African religions (such as Ifa).

As a note, there is a definition in the dictionary for monolatry that I feel is inadequate -- I believe it's based on the Mormon interpretation of the term. To my knowledge, though, monolatry was invented fifty years ago by Near Eastern scholars to define Near Eastern religion (Ed. Note: I've since had someone write me to refute this statement -- still researching this, and I'll get back to you all when I find the passage from Hornung that talks about monolatry.). The definition I stated above is the one I go by -- if you see me use the term monolatry, that's what I mean.
polyvalent - In the context I use it in, it means multiple, seemingly conflicting things can be taken to be true without canceling each other out. A good example is the nighttime sky and the stars. In my belief system, the stars are held to be our ancestors looking down at us. Now, I know that if you go to those stars that you will definitely not see twenty generations of my family waving back at you. But at the same time, I still believe when I look up that the stars are my ancestors, looking down on me. I believe both things at once. I know that seems hard to grasp, but if you think that way for a few years, it stops being confusing after a while. :)

08.13.00 - I am a happy concrete mixing kitten. I rebound from stuff. My flesh may be made of carbon, but my soul is made from nerf.

And so...I bring you...a review!

Now, honestly? I feel weird putting up affiliate stuff to places like Amazon.com and Mothernature.com. But I look at it this way...Mothernature.com forks over 12% of any sales made by a clickthrough coming from my little tag identifier. I and my friends buy at least $50 worth of stuff there every three-odd months. Why the heck not?

So just so you know. Those affiliate thingies? They're for me, too. Except anything going to Amazon.com. That's all for the House.

Dave has a cold. I fear I am to blame. Jeff tore up his limbs bowling. Bowling. Skiing I can see being worth tearing up one's limbs for. But bowling? Hah! I scoff at you, plebian.

Wait. I scrub bathtubs at 3 am for fun. Now who's the plebian?

08.12.00 - Quote of the week:

I wonder if those who hurt others for being different realize that they are the different ones.

08.11.00 - Hi all. I'm still sick, and I took the last two days off of work (ugh, I know :\) to deal with my cold and cough. Hopefully the weekend will wipe out the rest of it.

Super ultra fantastic sparkling gorgeous shonen congratulations to Gryph and Bear for their new bébé. Logan is now safely a part of this world (well, as "safely" as this world can be). Logan, I have no idea if you'll ever read this, but you're really damn lucky, my friend. Your parents are good people who'll never raise a hand to you out of spite, always make sure you're getting the best they can give you, and who will love you unconditionally. Quite a blessing.

Getting on the soapbox about...soap! (A new Vent! Yikes!)

Aieee! Dancing kai-Imakhu Nakht head! If I get enough of these, I'll have to start the dancing heads gallery. That would be at once cool, creepy, and a little hypnotic. Gaze upon the dancing head, my child. Look deeeeep into its eyes. Noooo. Deeeeeper...okay, not that deep. Knock it off. I mean it.

I'm going to go take a bath in some eucalyptus and peppermint. Seeya!

08.09.00 - I am back. The kitten I saved last week passed away on Saturday. I'm a kai-Imakhu. I have a cold. I got a great book on cleaning stuff. My cat hates me.

Most recent things first...I was unfortunately correct on the kitten being malnourished and dehydrated. It (he?) died Saturday morning because he couldn't eat or drink. I'm not sad...I wasn't completely sure if he was going to make it anyway, and I'm happy that he at least died in a comfortable, warm place rather than on the side of a road or in a muddy hole somewhere. Getting bitten and hissed at was worth that.

I'm a kai-Imakhu. It's not going to seem real until I go through and start changing everything over to the new title. In a few months I'm sure I'll be used to it, but for now I'm still in the blinking stage.

I have a cold. After getting little sleep and (unfortunately) missing a few meals over the retreat weekend (I was really busy), my immune system got worn down and I acquired a mild cold. I'm hacking up green-gray-yellow bits and drinking lots of fluids, both cold and hot. Found a neat remedy for sore throats that actually works. A drop of geranium oil on a sugar cube, suck on the sugar cube slowly and let it dissolve completely. It tastes nasty -- and will continue to taste nasty even after it's gone -- but it works.

Clean House, Clean Planet by Karen Logan -- what a neat book! I'm going to check out some of her recipes, and when I review it I'll tell you if they work or not. Sometimes these types of books offer ideas that seem spiffy but don't actually work. I do know the baking soda in the laundry works, and it's a good way to save on laundry detergent. The rest, though, I'll have to see to believe.

More later. Need to eat now.

08.01.00 - So...I almost got everything done. I missed writing up my seminar, but that's okay. I'll do it tomorrow.

As for the rest, I bid you all a splendid New Year, and I will see you in a week. Senebty (health be on you). I love and miss you all. :)