Monthly Archives: February 2011

addicted.

Mr. Bennet and I are addicted… to Craisins. I used to buy the small bags once in a while, but now I’ve been buying two every time I visit the store, and they get consumed within a few days. Mr. B.’s been digging in the garbage can, couch cushions, and around my face (yep) looking for more. The poor guy even found the empty bag and ran around the house trying to find a way to get the non-existent blueberry-infused delights into his greedy little mouth. Here’s us when Craisins aren’t around… nice and pacified. We clearly just got a fix before this picture was taken. Pois é. 


I was going to do my laundry today but woke up to a steady down-pour. Who knew it could rain so ferociously in February? Only here, I guess. So I think I will hold my ground against the growing pile of dirty clothes amassed in my closet, and instead I’ll work on the NYT crosswords for this rainy Monday. Grad school makes every day feel like Sunday. Sans the difficulty level of Sunday crosswords, of course.   

On an entirely unrelated note, I feel obliged to show off the awesome wing-back chair I snagged on craigslist for only $25! It’s clean, too. And when the evening sun hits it for about 15 minutes every day, it’s the best spot in the house. Sockies the bear-monkey loves it, too. Mr. B’s dubious, though. He thought the top of the chair was a ledge, for some reason, and decided to launch himself upwards. Luckily, I grabbed him mid-air before he fell through the space behind the chair and onto the floor. Coitado do meu coelho. I guess we all learn somehow. 


Now if I could only teach him that Craisins are for humans…

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just starting.

Yesterday I finally finished Andra’s painting. It’s darker than the original, but I like the effect. The man’s eyes on the left look dull and almost flat. They half-way scared me, so I put the canvas behind some plants on my book shelf. Now all I can see is his top hat. Much better. 


I also started reading “The Things They Carried” because it was beckoning to me from my book stack and because Tim O’Brien went to Mac and I miss Mac. What a heck of a book/memoir/historical fiction piece. I almost gobbled up the whole thing in a night, but stopped myself so I have something to look forward to today. The third (fourth?) chapter particularly got to me with its lakes and not-so-easy life decisions. 

My beautiful white orchid just bloomed its four flowers and I couldn’t be more content. A whole year of babying and watering and Romanian-spitting on it. Adoro. Maybe it was Buddha’s vibes from the window that set it free.

I’m not sure why I started this blog and I’m not sure how public I want it. Part of me still hates virtual reality, but I think I’m growing to accept my post-human half as time speeds along. I thought about what I would write last night after some sleep-less tossing and turning and while I don’t think it was close to this, this’ll do just fine, too.