I am a geek on many levels,
especially regarding music and movies. Ever since I saw Gary Oldman seduce Mina
in “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” I wanted to try absinthe. That interest quadrupled
when I read years ago that Marilyn Manson became involved in bottling the anise
flavored beverage.
Unable to obtain Mansinthe back
then, I purchased whatever brand our local purveyors availed me. Well, it
disappointed me. I didn’t even enjoy a decent buzz for some reason.
Label Art a Watercolor by Marilyn Manson aka Brian Warner
Photo Courtesy of Drink Up NY.com
Fast forward to Memorial Day
weekend 2017. For an inexplicable reason I decided to toast our fallen US soldiers
with something classy. A little research uncovered a rather rare 1930’s era
drink called the Alaska Cocktail.
The origin of the name is
shrouded in mystery but the recipe is simple, excludes sugar, and tends toward
the savory side. Fortunately a local vendor carries the expensive French liqueur
Yellow Chartreuse. We dropped a pretty penny but don’t regret the investment.
An Herbal Delight
You start with two ounces of
gin (Beefeater dry worked wonders), add half an ounce of Yellow Chartreuse and
a dash of orange bitters, then stir (or shake if you're James Bond). I chilled the concoction with ice chips and served
the drink in martini glasses. Next time I intend to add a third ounce of gin to
stretch the herbal liqueur and drop in more of the delicious bitters.
Do you enjoy adult beverages?
What is your drink of choice?
I’ve been a little stymied
rewriting book fifteen of my novelette series. The direction feels good, it’s just
not moving forward as of yesterday. So I decided to look at book sixteen.
Ooh, it read like stereo
instructions. That’s okay; I welcome the opportunity to create new. With the
opening altered a little I stopped again for the day to spend time with my
partner.
Today I thought, Now what? What always gets my creative
juices flowing? Write a love scene. That m/m/f scene evolved, or rather
devolved, when a jilted lover returned home.
Now I’m having fun setting up
a massive argument between two characters already splitting up. Unfortunately, I
have to stop and mow the grass.
~sigh~
Here in the USA most people
have a three day weekend due to Memorial Day next week. I will likely attend a
local parade and ceremony, then delve back into writing while my neighbors et al host barbecue parties.
I have faith, not religion. And
I believe in the benefits of prayer even if there is nobody to hear. It grounds
me, improving my attitude if nothing else.
That said, is it wrong to do
most of your praying naked? I realized that truth not terribly long ago. ~shakes
head~ I guess the action of showering shuts off this writer's inner fictional dialog.
I do like to
think God has a sense of humor. How else can you explain the platypus?
Still, what if my odd
tendency annoys who or whatever is out there? Maybe I should set aside a
meditation period after my Julia Cameron style morning journal time. What do
you think?
No, I did not take a tumble
if my title misleads. I’m quite well aside from an overzealous workout and this
blasted early heat.
I am not a fan of summer. It’s
too hot and humid. I hate cutting grass; afterward I feel like someone dumped
me in a swamp. So I’m going to recall the joys of autumn and thank heaven we
have air conditioning (the heat pump is being given a professional check-up as I type).
We have long determined in
this house that cats are tool users. And we, their opposable thumb wielding
servants, are the tools. Jezebel, in particular, continues teaching old humans
new tricks.
Take for example the throne
room. Note the food dish next to the ‘purr pad’ (a big hit with our kitties, purchased
online from Drs. Foster and Smith).
Bow Before Me
She could walk to the long
established feeding area but prefers breakfast, in particular, brought to her. We
did draw the line at bringing over water so the sofa doesn’t get wet.
What? You Put the Blanket Here
Don’t you think we caregivers
deserve a little coddling in return? Nobody brings
me food in bed. We’re lucky if this one joins us on the
loveseat once a week.
Last fall, cleaning out the
garden and mowing yet again, I placed my tomato cages behind my car knowing full well my partner
intended to run an errand.
Which car do you think my partner chose? Mine, of course.
Heart sinking, I heard the most horrible
screeching sound over the lawn mower engine. At least the car didn’t get
damaged but two of the three cages are now melded into one.
I was able to use
them for my sugar snap peas this season. And that’s when things got amusing.
At just the right angle, I
noticed the twin cages’ smashed top resembled Crowe T. Robot from Mystery
Science Theater 3000 (MST3K to my fellow geeks).
What Do You Think?
Have you ever watched the
show? Do you see the resemblance?
I am not a superstitious
person for the most part, though I like to think there is a greater power with
a benevolent plan for me. And my fingers are crossed that there is an
interesting afterlife awaiting us all.
That said, I get a kick out
of reading fortune cookie messages. This one from a few days ago really took
the cake, if you’ll excuse the pun.
Why, Thank You, Cookie!
Did you know that fortune
cookies originated in Japan
and the American version flopped in China?
Before my muse kicked my
writing back into gear I used to spend a lot of time playing games on my Kindle
Fire (even more than reading, I’m ashamed to admit). Yesterday, I decided to
play a few games of FreeCell.
Well, after perhaps my third
round the screen locked up. This is the actual image, my favorite model as the customized background...
At Least I Won
I had to laugh and show my
partner. Granted, all I needed to do was turn the Kindle off and back on to
clear the issue, but it made me think of Julia Cameron and her “Artists’s Way”
notions about the universe sometimes pushing us in the right creative
direction.
Was a ghost in the machine
telling me to quit screwing around and get back to rewrites? What do you think?
I have been rewriting and
polishing my decade old novelette series in a never-ending loop of late. Maybe
the stories will one day be submitted to a publisher but for now my
love-children are my own. I don’t feel ready to share.
The process has been
enjoyable due to that love of my characters. I have improved their story arc,
making their relationships less perfect, their natures less passive and more
realistic.
Believe me when I say it’s more
fun writing epic arguments than having them. And still the prose tightens.
It amazes me how many passes
I have made and still find extraneous words: almost, seeming, now, about. A few pesky adverbs even turn up now
and then. ‘Extremely aggressive’ is overkill, the word aggressive quite adequate describing a disease. Don’t you agree?
Do you have any current
projects undertaken for the pure purpose of self improvement and pleasure? I’d
like to hear about them.
I’m off now, having started
rereading book twelve.
For those who do not know me, let me
introduce myself. I am a Wench, identifying as such since unmasked by my
partner many, many moons ago. I have never shared with the outside world.
That is about to change. Let me start with a
definition (never really outlined before now ~grin~ so all mistakes are mine
and I hope fellow Wenches will forgive me).
Wench /wen(t)SH/ noun
(English, pl. wenches) "You Wench, I was going to eat that!" a human being, generally of the female
persuasion, with self deprecating, sarcastic humor and scathing wit toward
those closest; a being of highly salacious, mostly harmless, generally self
serving intent; prone to mild to moderate selfishness and narcissism, thereby
self proclaimed unfit for motherhood; intensely artistic with a bent toward
perfectionism and about as domestic as most house cats; apt to buck convention
at every little unassuming opportunity; of any age from puberty to advancing
years, the young being prone to insecurity and a need to please others while
middle-age brings more self enlightenment, acceptance, and bravado.
There. That about sums me up.
Now I just need the USA to proclaim
the day after Mother’s Day as National Wench Day. I planned my celebration while
ruminating on Sunday.
For starters I will meet local writers over
breakfast until time to get a much needed hair makeover. If we spend more time
talking than writing (or not!) I will head next to a favorite shopping center for more writing. The place boasts a lovely “town square” fountain, benches, and plenty of accommodating
establishments should the weather be inclement.
How would you describe your core self? If you
are a Wench would you care to lobby for the holiday with me?
Jezebel is an older cat who
has one game she likes to play – falling on her side at my feet so I lavish her
with attention. Stroking her flank, rubbing her head so her ear folds back,
patting her backside to make her flip, even pushing her across the carpet are
all good fun.
She has the unfortunate habit
of demanding this when I first come home from the gym or something. Yesterday, I
had just mowed the grass. Feeling exhausted, I didn’t bend down but sat at her
side to play.
When I would stop on a normal
day, I found myself too tired to stand up. Fool that I am, I continued to touch
her. And with zero warning, she decided enough was enough.
Claws came out, fangs baring
in a hiss, and a minute later blood bubbled out of two cuts on the back of my
wrist. Another claw scratched me in the same alignment, all three wounds
swelling due to lingering allergic reactions to such intense contact.
I had to stop myself from
digging in with my own nails when the healing itch set in this morning. Oh,
well. I consider these rare incidents as a sort of inoculation, like my allergy
shots from childhood.
At Least I Know My Blood's Clotting Factor is Healthy
What about you? Has a pet
ever given you a justifiable bit of damage?
From a young age I debated
becoming a bereavement counselor. Attending funerals in my teens I helped
console mourners four times my age. At nineteen years old I held the hand of a
widow in her early twenties.
That one was tough. She
learned of her pregnancy the same day her husband took his life. I will never
forget Herb, an amazing person.
Dealing with other types of
distress is another story. Recently a friend grew so distraught over something
out of her control that I finally told the poor dear to just breathe. The whole group looked at me as
if I’d said, “I’m sorry your puppy died. But he tasted delicious.”
Maybe I should stick with my
fictional people. What do you think?
Not long ago I got on a kick
of finding videos to be uploaded to our DVR. I guess this Gen Xer is behaving a good deal like the Millennials and generation Z, more often interested in what’s on YouTube
than cable television.
The Awolnation song ‘Sail’ came out in 2011. My partner and I enjoy hearing it on the radio still. And in a
unique twist the unofficial fan video gets more views than the official video
(which is good in its own right).
So, I thought I’d share.
Violence is mostly. intimated. These gals are awesome.
What about you? What’s your
favorite entertainment for winding down at day’s end?
We aren’t exactly the neatest
people in my house. You definitely cannot eat off the kitchen floor. I am
adamant that we get the cat litter changed out on garbage day.
That has not been an issue
since I took over the task. And it’s made easier by the fact our garbage crew
tends to come late in the day.
This week I was taking care of morning
ablutions when I heard a sanitation truck outside. Shouldn’t be a big deal, I thought,
it’s probably the crew picking up the recyclables.Hearing the scamper of slippered feet, I rolled my eyes.
Sure enough, here comes my
partner to tell me excitedly that they are picking up the trash. Possibly. Or maybe
recyclables.
As it turned out, the garbage
collection crew came early. But you know what? At least the kitty doo doo is out of the house.
When my live-in procrastinator and I took
turns taking out the litter and garbage on a weekly basis it often got
postponed by a day or even two. Sometimes I would just give in and take care of
the task.
So if I hear one word of complaint
about stinky bags in the garage I’m going to bring that up. Is that petty of
me?
Do you get criticized for
something the accuser has done on a regular basis? Are you like me and guilty of such occasional finger pointing?
~cringe~
I say we all need to stop
sweating the small stuff, anyway.
Here’s something I bet not
everyone has in their kitchen. It’s a single use tool that can really come in
handy.
No, It's Not a Dental Pick
Can you guess its purpose? Here’s
a clue: the color is significant.
Have you come up with an
answer? Let me know in your comment.
…
…
…
...
...
Now, for the reveal.
...
... ...
...
...
It’s a
citrus peeler!
Get It?
Tough to see, the teardrop shaped 'tooth' slicing through the skin is my favorite part. The odd thing opposite is to shave off pith, I believe, and the curved handle can help get between stubborn peel and edible bits.
Granted, I didn’t really need
to use the peeler for this little piece of easy peel fruit. I don’t have any
oranges on hand, though. And for a reason. Our grocery store stocks oversized
produce and I don’t want to have to eat a piece of fruit in two or three
sittings!
I guess this April and last prove
that music is important to me. While many forms interest me, I’m particularly
fond of heavy metal. Avenged Sevenfold has been one of my favorites for well
over a decade.
And they are performing in my
region this summer, at a favorite venue no less. Unfortunately, my partner is
deaf in one ear and won’t even consider going.
There really is no one else I
know who would care to go, or that I would care to ask. So I resigned myself to
missing out despite attending numerous concerts on my own in past years. Sometimes it was a less than stellar experience being a lone female among drunk or high strangers.
But darn if watching A7X
videos didn’t fire me up about seeing them live again. It’s been too long. So I came up with the idea of staying at a hotel near the coliseum,
perhaps even taking a taxi to and from the show.
That way I’m not making a
late night commute, eliminating the risk of hitting a deer or something, and
can imbibe if I want to without worrying. So I mentioned this to my partner.
The response? “You’re a grown
woman.”
I rightfully took this to mean a kind blessing that I do what I will.
So now I have my ticket. I just
need to decide where to stay but have plenty of time to decide.
What about you? Anything you’re
excited about doing this summer?
WARNING: Video has imagery that may be disturbing to some viewers. No bad language, though.
For decades I blamed my
significant others for the television shows I watched. Then my current partner
sent me an article that listed the greatest science fiction shows and another
about movies.
Wow. What a revelation! As a side note, I think one of my brothers and I must have been adopted. ~grin~ But some things do skip a generation.
Reading the names, seeing the
images, I began realizing that I sat and watched many of them all by myself.
Now I’ve even found my tribe on Facebook, a group called The Geek Asylum. I’m
on there every day either commenting or posting, laughing sometimes until tears
stream down my face.
Good times. For example,
someone in the group shared the following.
How about you? Is there
anything you’ve learned to stop denying and start loving about yourself?
You know Jezebel would have
gone for the laundry basket if I wanted to put away clothes rather than write
in my journal. Excuse the blurry image. She’s often a tough one to photograph,
seeming to know just when to move.
Ooh! Bird!
What about you? Do you have a
furry friend? I know some of you have many. ~grin~ Happy Tuesday!
I
think someone might be trying to tell me something, like “Stop eating all those
frozen burritos!”
They
are just so quick and convenient. Stuff one in a fold-top sandwich bag and I
can eat breakfast anywhere. Or lunch.
Not
both on the same day, I promise. And at least I’m eating fruit first.
My
initial oddball came in the form of an empty shell. Manufacturing mistakes happen, of course, so I laughed it off. Today I pulled one out and found this…
Yum...
It
almost put me off my feed. Ultimately I separated my conjoined burritos before devouring the larger. I just knew that tiny bit would turn inside out and be
even more disgusting.