*Bang!* *Crash!* The lightning flashed!

So for the first time since we’ve been here, we headed out of the house after Fuzzy got home, not to see a Realtor (wonderful as ours is), or go to Kinkos or anything else businessy, and not to see a movie or wander around a bookstore, or anything else largely insular, but to see a friend’s art exhibit.

The friend in question, is Rana, who writes Notes from an Eclectic Mind, a witty and entertaining blog I’ve been frequenting for about a year now, and the exhibit was at her local Starbucks. Her digital photos are as wonderful as Clay’s, but in a totally different way, and it was wonderful both to meet her (and select members of her circle of friends) and to see her work hung on the wall, instead of the web. She’s as warm and witty in person as she comes across in text, and I wish we’d been able to chat longer, but it’s a decent drive from Lewisville to Fort Worth, especially in Friday night traffic, and a storm.

Oh, right, the storm.

As we left the apartment, we both looked at the weird color of the sky – rain-pregnant gray-green over sunset-orange – and decided it looked ominous. But there was no actual rain, until the last five miles of the trip, although there was much lightning.

Just outside Fort Worth, though, the rain came. At first it was normal rain, heavy, but not scary, and the lightning was bright, but festive (well, if you’re me, and attuned to stormy weather). Almost immediately, however, it was as if someone opened all the fire hydrants in the universe, and the water was landing on us. We missed an exit from one freeway to another, because the rain was coming down in such thick sheets that we couldn’t see the signs – we could barely see the ROAD. But Fuzzy’s an excellent foul-weather driver, and I was more annoyed at being late, than scared.

I was momentarily startled, when a lightning flash revealed a giant skull on a building, but then we moved around a curve, and the Haunted House sign on what is (apparently) a club, was visible. Once I realized what it was, I thought it was cool, and nicely spooky, it being October now, and the Dracula ligtning being better than special effects.

We finally made it to Starbucks after circumventing an ACTUAL blown hydrant that was gushing into an already-flooded intersection, and met everyone, and had coffee. We were graciously welcomed, and made to feel very comfortable, and of course the art was beautiful. (Also of course: the rain tapered off as soon as we arrived.)

After visiting a while, we crossed the parking lot for a nice quiet dinner, enjoying the dim lighting and flickering wall sconces, while the storm, quieter but still present, continued outside.

When we got back here, it was still raining, but in a good way, and while we did lose power for about 15 seconds, it came right back on.

The plans for the weekend include shopping local stores for the best prices on a washer and dryer, and taking the dogs out to really RUN.

For now, though, it’s nearly 1:30, and time to sleep.

Happy Friday.
Happy October.

T3: Against All Odds

::Against All Odds::

Onesome- Against: Is there anything you are vehemently opposed to? Or just something that gets you up on your soapbox?
I’m extremely pro-choice, anti-censorship, and anti-smoking in public places. I’ve put my body on the line for the first, the other two, well, sometimes I rant, and I make a point of buying “banned” books. Choice is the most personal, though. Oh, and leashes. I get really really pissy about people who don’t keep their dogs on leashes.

Twosome- All: Is there something that you have to give all or nothing to?
Actually, I don’t think there’s any aspect of my life in which I don’t hold something back.

Threesome- Odds: Are you a gambler? What would you bet on and for how much?
Only in the most literal sense of the word: I love horse racing and poker. Especially poker. But, without the cigars.
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Bibliopathic

To go along with my suggestion of sticking Starbucks in 24/7 Kinkos, I would like to add:

Someone needs to create a telepathic library. As you enter, there would be a gentle scan of your brain. Maybe it’d be true telepathy, maybe more like Rowling’s legilemency, but the practical upshot would be that after you left the entry, a series of markers visible only to you would guide you to a shelf of books that were all EXACTLY what you wanted to read, but couldn’t define well enough to come up with titles.

Privacy would be assured, of course, and the scans would be limited to reading matter. No one would be skimming your brain for your atm code or phone number, or what the scale REALLY said when you looked down at it that morning.

I could have used such a feature this weekend, when we went into Half Price Books. I knew I wasn’t in the mood for more Darkover, that I wanted something cozy, with a plot, perhaps a mystery, that involved cute houses and a neat town. But, you know, bookstores refuse to categorize that way. It’s not possible to walk in and find the Cozy section.

I left without buying a single thing.

The fact that I woke on Monday with a headache and sore throat (which I still have) should come as no surprise. I mean, I have to be sick if I couldn’t find anything to read in a bookstore. Right?

Ten Cents a Dance

Well, more like three cents a page. We spent the evening at the local 24/7 Kinko’s copying loan files for submission and popping them into FedEx. If Kinko’s had a Starbucks inside, I’d be completely in love with the place, even if the copiers don’t have sorters. They’re so FAST.

* * * * *

I haven’t been very social, online or off. I’m tired. I woke yesterday with a sore throat and a fever, and was sleepy and unfocussed all day. Fuzzy brought home NyQuil for me, and at least I got real sleep last night. A dose of DayQuil this morning kept me functioning til about two, at which point I crashed. Woke at six, and finished prepping for the Kinko’s run. Now it’s midnight, and I’m sleepy enough to sleep, but my mind is racing.

* * * * *

I’ve been reading a lot. Went through a stack of old Nora Roberts novels, a stray submarine novel, and now am back to Darkover novels, which I’m not really in the mood for, but it’s all we have. There’s a limit to the amount of fanfic I can read, partly because I don’t like reading WIPs and partly because my little laptop is being overworked. It’s putting out so much heat, in fact, that I was able to keep my coffee hot by placing it next to the vent. BUT my wifi keeps dying, so if we’re chatting, and I disappear, it’s not intentional.

* * * * *

Too tired to cook, we tried Steak-n-Shake tonight. I’d told Fuzzy that what I wanted most of all was grilled cheese and chilli, and they had both. Chilli is my new comfort food, even if it doesn’t start with a P 1.

* * * * *
A solitary cricket managed to hitch a ride with one of the dogs, or with Fuzzy, and is now lurking under the bathroom counter. I nearly screamed when I glimpsed it out of the corner of my eye, thinking it was a scorpion or a cockroach, not because I’m afraid of bugs, but because its presence startled me. Now I’m hoping it won’t chirp all night.

* * * * *
We have Alaska Airlines debit cards on our Texas BofA accounts, even though Alaska doesn’t fly here (I don’t think), because hey, free miles, and also it lets us tell the cards apart.

* * * * *
Cricket Update: It’s become Cleo’s playtoy. Go Cleo! Eat the bug!

1 In one of the V.I. Warshawski novels, Sara Paretsky talks about all comfort foods beginning with P. (Pizza, pasta, pudding, etc.)

Explorations

So, we’ve got 18 more days of apartment life, and I’m fighting the nesting urge with a bat, and a credit card. Retail therapy works wonders, even if you only buy four shirts and a pair of pants. They gave me all the hangers, though, so I’ve got nothing to complain about.

So far, we’ve found a lot of cool things around here, like the local branch of Chipotle, which is like Subway, but with burritos, and a second-run movie theater where the most expensive ticket is only $1.50. We thought about visiting the zoo (one of the zoos?) but decided to put that off til after the move.

I was complaining that I had nothing to read, but then I picked up another Darkover book, and got back into the series. I have a bunch more of them waiting for me, so I think I’ll survive.

I bought a book of writing prompts, but can’t quite get into them. Bad timing, I guess.

I succumbed to my addiction, and bought filters for the (ugh, ick, yuck) flat-basket coffee maker here in the apt, so at least I can have coffee in the morning. Of course, I neglected to buy a scoop. One tablespoon to one cup of water is too strong; one tablespoon to two cups of water is too weak, and tastes like “restaurant” coffee, so more experimentation is in order.

I have found the local “underground” paper. It’s no Metro, but it’s more interesting than the Morning News, at least. I have learned that one should not listen to BBC world service on NPR as one is trying to fall asleep, at least, not when they’re talking about beheadings.

I fantasize about painting the blue wall in the new kitchen. It will be terracotta, which is one of the colors in the wallpaper. Just changing that one wall will warm up the room and make it *pop*. I think we’ll do the insides of the cutouts in pale peach, or pale salmon, to transition from the terracotta to the sage on the other side. Also, the lighter color will look like glowy sunlight.

I fantasize, also, about ripping up the carpet, one room at a time, and laying down a wood floor. I hate carpet, except in small doses.

I have not yet decided what to do about the master bath. Fuzzy likes the wallpaper, but I think it’s hideous. Of course, I always did say all his taste was in his mouth.

Today’s plans: Kinkos, Movies, RoomStore.
18 more days.

Killing Time

So, in my Bravo-less life here in Casa Temporaria, I’m trying to find alternatives to reruns of The West Wing to watch at night. It hasn’t been easy, especially without the onscreen digital cable guide.

But even though I don’t have Bravo right now, I do have Oxygen, and they’ve been running reruns of The Sunday Night Sex Show at 11PM, and even though there isn’t much I’m learning from it, she’s funny and frank, and I get a kick out of the politely shy Canadians who call in with questions.

I went to the web to find out more about Sue, because I’d remembered seeing her do a guest spot on an episode of Degrassi (and don’t mock my watching Degrassi. Many of you like Disney movies. We all have our stupid vices.) Oxygen runs the new version of her Show Talk Sex with Sue, but it’s on hiatus so I haven’t seen a fresh episode.

However, in perusing the archives, I found a sex toy in her list of such things, that made me laugh. It’s “below the fold” if you’re reading this on my blog.
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Inspection (Part III)

The rest of the first floor includes: the dining room, the master bedroom, and bath, the laundry room, and a half bath. While Fuzzy took pictures of all of it, I see no reason to share the thrilling picture of the toilet in the half bath, or the plain white washer and dryer that are NOT staying with the house. However, here’s the dining room (currently being used as an office. There are double doors that close it off from the entry, and a single door into the wet bar part of the kitchen)

DR2.jpg
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Inspection (Part II)

So, inside the house, you walk into the entry. Looking up, there’s a loft/bridge/thing that connects the upstairs bedroom, the right hand side of the bridge (viewed from the front doorway) has the guest room and the room with no specific purpose. The left side has the upstairs bathroom, and the rooms that will be our offices. (We took pix of the bedrooms, but, there’s nothing exceptional about them. They’re bedrooms.)

Here’s the entry, from which you can see into the living room.

Overview.jpg
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