Just a lot of little things that would probably be more suited for a tumblr account, if I had a tumblr account, than for the loquaciousness a full blog encourages.
No, I’m not making a tumblr account. That’s what the “Idling” category is for.
Regarding my quest for the Six Solar Secrets. They’re mine. All mine. You can’t have them. Unless they are useful for you, then by all means, make them yours. But if not, I’m keeping them. (Once I discover them.) I’m not going to write a series of books about how the S.S.S. will change your life, straighten your teeth, dissolve your debt, and level your stove. This rabbit hole came about in trying to design a personal seal. It would be the height of arrogance and hubris to assume that whatever MY Six Solar Secrets wind up being, they will have anything of importance for YOU.
Unless they hit a synchronistic nerve, in which case, my seminar fee starts with a 8oz med-rare grilled rib-eye steak and a good beer. If the beer is a microbrew, I’ll forgive the steak.
I don’t understand why advertisements targeting women still portray women as shopping-obsessed, shoe-worshipping, viciously emasculating, body fearing, shrill & frigid harpies! That always wear pink. The color sickens me.
And don’t get me started why if the woman is portrayed as reasonable and intelligent, she has to be a brunette WITH glasses, and she’s paired with a mentally deficient sperm donor that couldn’t find his ass if you hit it with rocksalt.
The BBC puts on a show. It winds up over here via BBC America. The American viewers devour the show as if starving for quality entertainment (hint: WE ARE!). Some American network decides to port the show and make an American version. The American version oozes with approved self-censorship and syphillic putrescence. The American version is soundly mocked and dismissed as worthless. The American viewing public is derided as being unsophisticated and undeserving of quality entertainment. The network executives completely miss the point. I present as an example, the wonderful BBC show “Being Human” and the American clusterfuck that dared to make it ‘palatable’ to a more delicate audience.
My daughter, by the way, loved the BBC version. She compared the American version to “a sanitized tasteless morality play best served to pearl clutchers with weak dispositions”. There you have it.
There’s just something about a good looking man in a kilt. Yummy. Sadly, I have no pictures to share. Ah well.
Been going two weeks without wearing ANY jewelry. Not even the opal pendant. At first, I was unsettled, but now I’m comfortable without them. They are all nice to have, all nice to wear, but I don’t require them dangling off of me to feel “womanly” anymore. That’s what hips are for.
I need to get out more, to participate more, to interact more. Offline, that’s a problem as my town is as interactive as a sun dried worm. Online, I’ve found myself retreating again. I dunno why I still have a Facebook account, and I’ve given up on most forums. Know any forums where a lurker could hang out at?
I always thought the lemon/lime slice was to keep flies from going into the bottle. Now I know better, Corona just taste better with the added citrus. Otherwise, it tastes like something I’d expect from a Budweiser.
Wine to cook with? Splendid! (Merlot & pot roast, mmm) Drinking wine? No thanks, I’ll pass. Liquid headache, pour and serve. But I have no problem with beer, or hard liquor. How odd.
Yes, I need new avatars.
Yes, I should probably write an About Me page. That isn’t depressing like my usual self-referential posts.
Yes, I should post this before I lose my nerve. And before I fall asleep and get keyboard impressions.
No, I’m not explaining where my tag line “Make of it, what you may.” came from. Let a woman have some secrets to herself.
You really should make sure your stove is level, by the way. Eliminates a lot of “hot spot” cooking problems. Front to back, side to side. Go check. In the morning. Right now, it’s sleep time.