Friday, Dec. 24, 2004 - 5:23 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Third Entry on the Twenty-Third
OK, like I planned to scan in some pictures eh? I got some polaroids of blood on the snow, sutures in doggy's ear, and a whole slew of pics ... the last roll from Onewetleg's visit here.
But suddenly it is 5:23. How the hell did that happen? Sometime between cleaning off the desktop and measuring the studio walls to consider Ikea shelving placements for the bazillionth time. Dang.
Anyhews, once again I report I got nothing done today. Nope.
I called the vet about the dog, I did two loads of laundry, bought the Christmas tree, washed the dishes, drew a page of comics, bought food for xmas, read and replied to about three hundred emails (I exaggerate... some of them I put in the trash bin), put the sketches and spec info for the last four finished contracts into individually labelled envelopes and put them in a box (a shelf-less lying on the middle of the floor box, what did you think?)
I made strawberry banana jello with banana and orange slices (well, them canned mandarin sections mmmm) for supper tomorrow, decorated the tree, found many bulbs to replace missing ones in a string for the window (but decided it was too late to start stapling twist ties into the window frame to put it up), folded said laundry, ate some soup.
Measured the studio some more.
Looked at doggy's eye multiple times. Cleaned it and put in polysporin drops multiple times. I think it is totally infected. I am not thrilled. The foot has finally stopped bleeding and now her eye is red, puffy and oozing where they removed a small growth on the upper lid. Dang. She had both eyes operated on (her eyelids turned inwards since birth and so her eyelashes bugged her eyes)... they had like ten stitches each eye and no problems. And here is one little thing cut off, one stitch and it looks pus-y and oozing. Dang. Shit. Goddamn. At Christmas when it is impossible to get a car, everything is closed, everyone is busy, and I don't want to sit at the vet for hours. Goddamn. Dang. Shit.
I guess I'll put drops in until the 26th or something. Shit and shit. I'll phone them tomorrow. They're gonna think I"m just a bitch. Goddamn.
Anyways, yeah, I think I'm sort of ready for Christmas. I decided to forgo the parsnips for the first time in years for dinner... I bought asparagus instead, and baby spinach and four cherry tomatoes (hell, $7.99 a pound!!!) for salad to go with the curried chicken rice casserole. mmmm.
I opened the boxes from the parent units. No nasty or even pleading, letters from the father unit, thankgod. He did put in multiple prezzies, photos from the trip here (see, I told ya i got lots of pictures to scan in) and an invoice for the work he did for $600. Unfortunately he wrote my address as well as the tenants' addresses, and in the itemized list he put such things as "disconnect main floor doorbell". Yah, I want to pay to have no doorbell. Did I mention that I now instead have a "doorbell broken, please knock loudly" sign? Anyways, he didn't put back the doorbell.
And because he wrote my addy, and the stuff he did for me as part of the invoice, I will have to deduct hours for all that shit from what is deductable. Goddamn. If he'd just written an invoice for the other stuff, he could call "disconnect the doorbell on main floor" a "favour" he did me in his off time on Saturday and I could deduct the whole $600. Shit and caboodles. Oh well. Yay for no doorbell, and having to deduct it from what I paid out.
Other than that, yeah, no ranting letter about his childhood, my childhood, or my present life. Bonus.
And lots of prezzies from the mom unit too.
I declare when I put all the prezzies (a good ten of them) under the tree (some will be socks, I hope some are socks... and some will be chocolate, I hope some is chocolate!)... I got all teary-eyed, thinking, dang, thankgod for parental units. Without the parental units there would only be one box of after eight mints from yours truly to herself. (I couldn't leave that up to chance, the mother unit fell through two years ago and I had to go through the WHOLE of the eve of the 24th and the WHOLE of the 25th with NO after eights. Heresy!!).
Yeah. Yay for the parental units who even sent things in time to arrive for Christmas. My mom always has, but only three years ago the father unit was not giving me anything for Christmas, and sometimes phoned for my birthday. Though he DID remember to call and thank me for the gifts I sent HIM for his birthday and for Christmas. Dang. It is nice to know that we are back to the situation in 1986 when I was angry at how he treated me, and he dropped off presents, rather than the 2001 when I was not angry at him and I got zero presents.
Weird huh. hmmm. I will let you know that in 1986 I unfortunately opened the envelope out of curiousity (after hiding out when he came to drop off gifts at my mother's door), and it was a gift certificate, and I couldn't imagine spending it when I wasn't speaking to him (this is when he declared homosexuals unfit to have any position in society and I was going out with my first steady girlfriend, who actually hid out in the other room with me when he arrived). So I carried around said gift certificate until 1988, when I spent it on a comforter on sale at Eatons, to give to a guy I had a thing for who was freezing in his tiny apartment. Hmmm.
Well, no such compunctions this time. I shall open the damned presents. I shall probably NOT answer the phone if he calls (it may be a last minute split second decision however), and I probably WILL go shopping after Christmas and send him a prezzie (prob a book) with a card, in time for the Jan birthday. What the hey.
But despite all that, I still got all teary-eyed with all the prezzies from the parental units. I even have a little box marked "for Christmas Morning" from the mother unit.. oops! it is from SANTA! hehe.
This year I have totally slacked off. Actually I was just so busy that Christmas seemed to only enter into my interest level yesterday. A bit late. I haven't gotten anything exciting for my mom, though I DID spend $80 on a little vacuum thingie for her, and spent another $33 shipping it in time. No little Santa box or thoughtful cheery gifts.
And I realize now that I shouldve gotten something for l'Ecrivaine in case she gives me something when we meet up for Indian food (yay tandoori chicken!!) on Sunday. mmmm. She called tonight to say the reservation is made. Cool. But I haven't planned a prezzie. And now I could think of all sorts of fun and cool things to get her. Too late.
I didn't make Christmas cookies. Or buy anything for Hotsauce. Or for Disappearing Boy in case he drops by tomorrow night. But then he probably would hate if I gave him something. I couldve gotten something for Yoga Massage Lady. Nope.
I am a chicken with its head cut off ditzo.
What happened? I used to be shopper, thoughtful girl extraordinaire. I think it was the lack of reciprocation. The hunting down friends in mid-January to give them the gifts I'd had wrapped since early December. My father who didn't buy me presents when I bought him cool things and sent framed drawings. My brother who didn't even acknowledge boxes of handmade cookies and handwritten recipe cards. Depressing. Dang.
Well, time to make my grilled cheese and go to bed. I gotta get up earlier today... check doggy's eye. Make the chicken. Draw my Christmas Day comics page. Maybe even clean the bathroom. yowza.
OK,. merry Christmas y'all.
And you know I'll be back tomorrow evening giving you the rundown. Let's hope it is a less eventful evening than last Christmas Eve. yeah.
Here is my horoscope for Thursday, December 23:
Yeah yeah, I forget who left the comment yesterday about my horoscope yesterday meaning I should look outside the box and all that in a general manner. Nope they meant something specific, and the window came and went. An agreement. I dunno. prove myself. narrow specific demands. WTF??
ooh welll... forward and onward... zzzzz
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily