Subject to change without notice.

1.) I think of myself as shy, but the more accurate description is that I’m selective about who I talk to, and I like to observe a while before I let my whole personality show.

2.) I don’t like large groups of people – large parties, etc. They overwhelm my senses.

3.) I have perfect pitch, and I sing, but most of my friends have never heard me.

4.) For that matter, they’ve never heard me play the cello, either.

5.) My mother gave me a really nice sewing machine, that I never use. I plan to, though, soon. No, really.

6.) I believe everyone should be able to do somekind of hand-work. My preferred option is crewell embroidery. I want to learn to quilt, though.

7.) I don’t know how to cross-stitch, crochet, or knit.

8.) I like to cook, and I’m good at it, but I don’t like cooking for just the two of us.

9.) I have lived on both the east and west coasts of the United States, and in it’s geographic center. (New Jersey, California, South Dakota).

10.) I’m terrified of spiders. Especially if they’re in my shower.

11.) I like cats, in small doses.

12.) I’m a dog person. We own two: a chihuahua-mix and a mutt.

13.) I don’t have a favorite color, but I generally like bright bold colors like royal blue, purple, and deep red.

14.) I collect hats.

15.) I like pens. A lot. My favorite kind have liquid ink (in dark blue or royal blue) and roller-ball points, and micro-fine tips.

16.) Even though I cannot draw, I love art supplies. In my cabinet, I have crayons, paper, and oil pastels.

17.) I grew up watching my mother sew. I remember the smell of the big boxes of straight pins with great fondness. (It’s actually the machine oil scent lingering on the metal. But I like it.)

18.) I have more pairs of shoes than any person needs. I only regularly wear about four or five pairs.

19.) I like most kinds of music, with the exceptions of hard-core metal and rap, and tribal drumming. I’m melody-centric.

20.) I don’t like songs with indistinct lyrics.

21.) I am NOT a soprano.

22.) I’m five feet tall, exactly. This means that most upper cabinets are too high, and that I’m always being choked by the shoulder-strap portion of seatbelts.

23.) The only vegetable I truly hate, is bok choy.

24.) I think pizza is a comfort food. My favorite kind is on thin crust, and has just roasted garlic and extra cheese, no meat or other veggies.

25.) As I write this, our house in California is for sale. Once it sells, we’re moving to Texas.

26.) I love coffee, but I’ve limited myself to one coffee drink per day, and I don’t even have one every day.

27.) My writing ‘voice’ changes depending on the beverage I have. Tea inspires moodier pieces. Cranberry juice makes me more acerbic.

28.) My favorite cold drink is unsweetened iced tea.

29.) I cannot drink coffee or hot, black tea, without milk. Sugar is optional.

30.) I both read and write fanfic. It’s taken me a long time to admit this.

31.) The first fanfic I ever wrote, before I knew what it was, was a 300-page musical that combined Superman, Annie, and Peter Pan. Hey, I was eleven.

32.) I used to dabble in poetry, and I love the form and structure of verse, but I rarely write any.

33.) I’m harshly critical of my own work.

34.) I believe that the best sweet corn and tomatoes are grown in New Jersey.

35.) I’m pro-choice, anti-death-penalty, and yes, I’m a feminist. Anyone who thinks feminism is about bashing men is wrong. It’s not.

36.) Even though I went to a performing arts school, I still hated high school. I had a chance to graduate early and go to college early, and now I wish I’d done it.

37.) I never finished my degree. Instead, I have several computer certifications, and a real estate license. Someday, I’ll go back. Maybe.

38.) I’m slowly exploring my spiritual side, but I don’t believe in organized religion.

39.) I know how to ice skate…badly.

40.) I think making bread is a zen-like experience. There’s something truly magical about feeling warm dough between your fingers.

41.) Despite my shoe collection, when I’m at home, I’m generally barefoot.

42.) The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was the first real science fiction I ever read. I was 12.

43.) I read a lot. In 2003, I read 117 books. I was keeping a list, but I lost it in a reformat. I believe that B&N should track card-purchases, so that card-owners can go to the website and see what books they purchased.

44.) I never drink enough water. I know I should, but I just can’t. It makes me feel nauseous.

45.) I love rain. I especially love curling up with a pile of books and a pot of tea on a rainy day.

46.) My favorite lunch food is tuna fish.

47.) I don’t like visiting other people for Thanksgiving or Christmas, because I’m picky about turkey. My grandfather’s stuffing recipe is the only one that tastes “right” to me.

48.) I love bubble baths. My favorite bath scent is rosemary and mint.

49.) I don’t particularly like roses.

50.) I love irises, calla lilies, gerbera daisies, and sunflowers.

51.) If I could make money playing in the garden, sipping coffee, and writing, I would be completely happy.

52.) I don’t like the use of “emails” as a plural noun. It really irritates me.

53.) My birth stone is peridot. I’ve never liked it.

54.) I love watching my dogs sleep – they’re so cute when they’re quiet.

55.) Fuzzy and I met on the ‘net, and will be celebrating our tenth anniversary in March, 2005. I’m still amazed that I get to wake up with him every day.

56.) I was nearsighted all my life, but I had LASIK done in March, 2002. I’m glad I did, if for no other reason than I can see to shave my legs in the shower.

57.) I’m craving toast, but the toaster is packed in the garage, because we needed everything off the counters for the open house.

58.) I have never had a job that required me to wear a uniform or a name tag (security badges don’t count).

59.) I’ve almost always had jobs where I could wear sneakers to work.

60.) I have a fairly good memory, but I only retain information that interests me.

61.) The process of getting my house ready for sale, has me seriously considering working as a realtor instead of in mortgages, once we’re in Texas.

62.) I dye my hair. When I was little it was strawberry blonde. Now, it’s kind of dark brown, but we color it to add depth and highlights. The name of the color blend is “Chocolate Bar.”

63.) I LOVE Aveda products.

64.) I like trying different kinds of foods, but Italian and Japanese are my favorite types. Indian food tends to involve too much curry for me.

65.) There are moments when I miss snow.

66.) My favorite pair of shoes ever were black ankle boots with just a touch of a heel. I miss them horribly.

67.) Far too much of my wardrobe is black.

68.) I don’t like pink. Usually.

69.) I love beach glass, but I didn’t have any, so in order to fill come conch shells that were laying around the house, I resorted to buying beach glass. (My grandmother would be rolling in her grave if she knew. Or, for that matter, if she’d been buried.)

70.) I’m not sure I believe in ghosts, but I think I’ve been visited by each of my grandparents, since their deaths.

71.) My grandparents ashes have been mixed into the earth of my garden, my mother’s garden, and my aunts’ gardens. I like to think of this as a form of eternity. I also like to think it means they stand guard over our houses.

72.) After visiting my parents in Baja California Sur, I fell in love with limes and black sand.

73.) I participated in NaNoWriMo last year, and plan to do so again this year.

74.) I don’t like wall-to-wall carpeting, but I like having an area rug near the bed. No one should have to put their feet on a cold floor first thing in the morning.

75.) I don’t like granite kitchens. I LOVE tile.

78.) One of my favorite sensations: Slipping into a freshly-made bed piled high with pillows, just after a hot bath, and feeling the cool sheets against my skin.

79.) I’m my most creative in bed. It’s where I do my deepest writing, and thinking.

80.) Most of my reading takes place in the bathroom. What else is there to do while you sit on the pot?

81.) I sing in the shower.

82.) I dance in the rain.

83.) I love the smell of line-dried cotton t-shirts.

84.) If liver tasted the way it smells, I’d like it.

85.) I’m fascinated by sharks. I’m not sure why. But I consider it appropriate that the Discovery Channel’s “Shark Week” always coincides with my birthday.

86.) I like meat to be very rare, and cookies to be almost burnt.

87.) I think smoking is vile, and I don’t let people smoke in my house.

88.) I never thought I’d want children, but more and more, lately, the ticking of the biological clock is getting through to me, and I think having ONE child would be extremely satisfying and enjoyable.

89.) I love handwritten letters, but carpal tunnel has made it really difficult for me to write legibly. Still, there’s something special about pen, paper, and ink.

90.) I love wooden boats, and sailing ships, and have an addition to novels and movies that take place on ships or submarines.

91.) I don’t like libraries. The books always smell funny, and I never remember to return them on time. For me, bookstores are cheaper.

92.) But I still think libraries are under-funded.

93.) It annoys me when public figures (entertainers, politicans, etc.) don’t speak correctly, or use language well.

94.) I have a vivid and overactive imagination. Movies like “The Ring” give me nightmares.

95.) I can’t sleep with the door open, or lights on.

96.) I love the way sunshine looks on hardwood floors.

97.) If I were rich, my biggest indulgence would be having someone wash my hair more often than just whenever I have it cut.

98.) I don’t like animation. I haven’t since I was six.

99.) I do like design shows like Trading Spaces. They’re addicive. For that matter, so is Celebrity Poker.

100.) I have no real interest in professional sports. Except horse racing. I love horse racing.

It may be the middle of summer, here in the states, but to me it’s the turn of my personal year, as well. Yesterday, as we were out with the dogs, so that E. could hold our house open, I had an idea for a new blog template, and last night I put it mostly together. Today I tweaked it a bit, and in doing so, in changing the blog template, I cemented the mental shifts that have already begun.

As we’ve gone through the process of prepping the house to sell it, I’ve been analyzing things, making resolutions for when we move. Things like:
-We won’t wait to do all the little things to make the house cute.
-We’ll be better about cleaning – not just doing the easy day to day stuff, but the rest, the stuff we all ignore until we think company is coming.
-We’re going to take walks with the dogs, daily, using it as us-time.

We keep talking about what we’ll do, how we’ll change our lives. I make mental pictures of moments I want to have. I’m nervous, of course, but excited.

It’s three weeks til my birthday, I really hope we’re in contract by then. I think we will be.

I hate waiting for things. I make decisions quickly, most of the time, and read quickly, and I get very impatient with people who have to plod through things slowly and carefully. If the entire world operated at Melissa-speed, I’d be very happy.

So, the house as been on the market all of 12 days, and no offer yet. And I’m anxious, because I’m enough my mother’s daughter that, like her, I want everything done NOW. Or at least, everything affecting me.

Someone brought clients over last night. Someone is showing it now. My house is unnaturally clean, and my dogs are pissed because they’ve been tossed into the back yard all day every day this week, and generally, they’re only barred from the house when they’ve been bad.

They think they’re being punished, and their little brains can’t understand that they’re NOT.

They’re stressed, too, because there are BOXES, and we’ve cleaned everything so all the SMELLS are gone. Not that the house stinks, but, you know, normal dog-smells that they’re used to are replaced by soap and bleach scents.

I haven’t managed restful sleep in almost a week.
I am crabby and tired, and even more impatient than usual. And I recognize it, but that’s not helping.

It’s sort of like PMS, except chocolate doesn’t help.

A week of cleaning, and if I ever smell bleach again, I shall have to kill someone.

A shout-out to Jeremy, for his help, and for making me laugh, which was crucial.

A weekend of angsting, and spending three hours (each day) with puking doggies who don’t like car rides.

E. says there are two prospectives who might want to make offers.

I think it’s too soon, but we’re hoping.

Still, the house shows well.

Tired now.
Real post…soonish, I guess.

So, we’re happily moving toward an open house on Saturday with a repeat performance on Sunday. My boss bought a new lockbox, and gave me his lockbox key, so I can take it off at night, if we need a little privacy, or if we want to sleep late in the morning some day. (As real estate is not my company’s business, this is not a problem, really.)

BUT…some guy down here from Portland has driven by the house six or seven times in the last few days. He took the original flyer, at the price I felt was too high. (When all else fails, trust your instincts, yeah?) I lowered it ($584,950 – still sick, but less so), and the guy called.

He’s unrepresented, may do the loan through us, and everything. That’s cool. That’s what we want.

BUT, he has to fly back to Portland, OR, and reallyreallyreally wants to see the house.

So, at 5:00 we’re showing it. We’ve tried to make the man understand it won’t be perfect. He says he gets that. We’re racing through things. We won’t have time for the paint touch-ups, and the termite guys are still working on stuff (but so far, no section 1 – YES!!!!!)

And tomorrow, well, we’re kidnapping Jeremy and doing all the painting, and some final touches.

* * *
On another note, Kerry Hamm is the best termite guy on Earth. He’s funny, sweet, smart, and thorough. He’s willing to work with people on getting paid, as long as you’re polite and honest with him. He teaches while he works – claiming, for example, that for the price of a single tube, he can make anyone an expert at caulking. He tells you how to treat stuff so it doesn’t have to be called. And, most importantly, he’s making the ants go away. I *HATE* ants.

The total of the work he’s doing – including the bathroom floor repair: $275 + some Asti Spumanti.

Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
Til the rain comes tumbling down.

My hands smell of marigolds and damp earth, and I have dirt under my fingernails, and even though I’m bone tired and my back is killing me, I have words and images racing through my mind. Why is it that one’s muse must visit at only inopportune times?

When I planted the front flower bed a couple weekends ago (was it a couple, or was it only one?) I planted some things improperly, and as a result, I had to replace the cosmos and one of the zinnias. I chose another yellow zinnia, added pink zinnias, bright orange mums, and another bunch of fuschia impatiens, as well as two sixpacks of red salvia, to balance out all the blue and purple. As a result, the front of my house is a riot of color.

Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones,
we are made of dreams and bones
I feel the need to grow my own cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain I’ll find my way in nature’s chain
Tune my body and my brain to the music of the land.

While I was planting, sitting in cool grass in the last of the sunlight, our Brazilian neighbor, Lars, came by to say hello. He’s not really old enough to be my granfather, but he has a grandfatherly manner about him, and he’s funny and sweet. We chatted about the flowers, the weather (we’re having a mild summer, and I’m very grateful), and the various termite companies in town.

He spoke of growing up on a farm in rural Brazil, and washing clothes by hand. He asked if there’d been interest in the house yet (there has not, but it’s only been listed for 5 days, and we haven’t had our open house yet). He said, “Be patient, have open house, you’ll do fine. You’ll make a coupla bucks. That’s a good thing.” His accent reminds me of my grandmother, though she didn’t have an accent, not really, but he says my name the way she used to when she was calling me by Italian pet-names. Meleeeeeeza. I rather like it pronounced that way. It sounds less frumpy.

As I planted flowers, he asked if we were planning a garage sale. I said, “Later, maybe.” He commented that if he ever moved back to Brazil (with hand on heart) “Someday, before I die, God willing,” he would bring only his clothes, and a few photos. “We have too many things, the washer, the dryer, the diswasher.”

And yet, I commented back, we all complain we have no time.

He laughed. “So true. And lemme tell you. In Brazil, every Sunday, we went to church and came home and had sausage and eggs. Every Sunday! We didn’t know from bad. But we were happy. Today. Here. Not so much. Everyone is unhappy, spiritually and just regular.”

He turned to go then, and bade me promise to wave more often, to come say hello. And I went on with my work.

Plant your rows straight and long,
Temper them with prayer and song
Mother earth will keep you strong if you give her love and care
An old crow watching hungrily from his perch in yonder tree
In my garden I’m as free as that feathered thief up there.

I finished planting and checked in with Fuzzy (who, by the way, had inadvertantly locked me out of the house!), who was pulling weeds of a different kind, culling things from the garage for Good Will or Salvation Army or someone to come pick up. Yes, we had planned a garage sale, but neither of us has the patience or time for one, just now, and there are other more pressing needs – like giving Kerry the Termite Guy access to the garage walls, and making room for the boxes of clutter we’re purging from the house.

It’s ten. We’ve got another good two hours of work before us, and then bed. And yet I’m taking ten minutes to write this, to get some of the thoughts out of my head before I lose them, because if I don’t they grow like dandelions, tangled and yellow, but ultimately bitter and useless because I left them untended.

There’s an image, though, that I’m keeping in my head. I wish I’d had the camera to shoot the picture – the moment won’t be the same…just after Lars left, just before twilight became full dark, I looked at the front of my house – saw the light glowing through the panes of the living room window, and the plants hanging from the porch roof, and I thought, “Wow, that’s a cute house.”

And then I thought…we spend all this time making the house pretty to attract buyers, making it so neat that anyone would WANT to live in it, and then we leave, and we never do the same sort of work to the new place until it’s too late to enjoy it.

I hereby resolve that I will do all the special things to my new home early in my time there. I will not let this be a pattern.

Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
Til the rain comes tumbling down.

Note: Lyrics are from The Garden Song, as performed by numerous folk singers, and was originally written by Davie Mallett.

I read fanfic.

I’m particular about what I read.

In the Potterverse, I don’t, for example, like Snape/Harry slash, though sometimes I like Harry/Draco slash. And sometimes I like Snape/Hermione stories. It’s not that I have a problem with slash, in general, its that I have to be willing to buy into the ‘ship, and I can’t buy into Snape/Harry.

My first attempt at publically shared fanfic, as an AUTHOR, was in the Potterverse, actually.

I like BuffyFic, generally speaking. I’ve seen a few really good Buffy/Harry Potter crossovers. No, really. And I was a regular reader of BuffyGiles.com before it went to being an eFiction site. (I like the eFiction interface, btw, it’s nifty.)

But my first ever fanfic experience was with Star Trek. If that dates me, well, tough. I’m not old enough to have seen classic Trek in first run, but I’m old enough to have had it as my first Trek experience. I liked TNG, but I’d have liked it better if they’d done arc-based storytelling instead of episodic. DS9, from a writing POV was my favorite. I didn’t even start watching Voyager until it’s last year, because of work schedules. I went to a special showing, complete with live Klingons, of the premiere episode of Enterprise, but didn’t stay with the show…

My favorite TrekFics ever are Wildcat’s Spock/Uhura series, and Zakhad’s Captain and Counsellor series. Go read them

I don’t really PARTICIPATE in fandom. Once in a while I’ll send an email if I really loved a story, but I don’t play the read and review game, because I don’t have the time or patience for it…

And I’m bringing this up, because while I was munching on cereal yesterday morning, I found some TNGFic I hadn’t read. And I liked it. And it inspired me, so I’m writing a post-Nemesis a/u fanfic thing.

When it gets to a point where I’m willing to post it, it’ll go on fanfiction.net, and Girasole. Maybe.

Until then, I’ve confessed enough for one night.

7/13 – 1:59 PM PDT: Edited to include links. Right-click to open in new window.

So on Friday, we got the realtor sign for our front lawn. Because my boss is really listing my house as a favor, and I’m not paying a full commission, we did the cheapest sign possible.

The stand comes with these instructions (paraphrased, but not much):
– Hammer at least 13 inches into ground
– Slide plastic piece over metal stand.
– To clean, use Windex and a rag.

Step 1: Take a metal stake and pound it into the earth, without hitting sprinkler lines or tree roots, but in such a position in the yard, that a sign hanging from the stake can be seen from the street. This step involved three or four false starts, as the earth refused to cooperate, and the borrowing of a sledgehammer from a neighbor.

It should be noted that there’s a knobby thing on top of the stake. It serves no apparent purpose, other than to make the use of said sledgehammer more difficut, since one must aim at the knobby thing, and not and the whole top of the stake.

2) Step 2: Slide vertical plactic signpost over metal stake. Easy enough. Except that the weight of the plastic made the post lean. Oh, and, did I mention no pre-drilled holes for hanging a feature-sheet box? Yay, Fuzzy got to use Power Tools!

3) Step 3: Attach horizontal sign-holder. Attach sign to sign-holder. Easy enough, except that the hooks snapped, so Fuzzy had to go to OSH and buy s-hooks, and such, and then come home and drill more holes in the plastic.

4) Step 4: Admire handiwork.
Well, it’s standing, and the sign can be seen, and people are grabbing the flyers, so…nifty.

Other items of note:
We lowered the sale price to $584,950, because I want the house to sell quickly.

We scheduled the open house: 1-4 PM Saturday and Sunday.

We have a Realtor in Texas.

We have a dresser, a rolling file box (letter sized) a printer stand, and two computer desks that we need to purge from our collection of stuff we don’t use. If you’re local, and want them, they’re FREE, but must be claimed by Friday at 6:00 PM.

Also, could someone please teach the ppl at Home Depot how to measure? Fuzzy had to make three or four trips there to get the new blind for the front window, cut to the correct length.

So, my mother is yelling at me over IM that she’s pissed. I asked why. She explains, “There’s a hurricane developing 600 miles south of us.” (My mother lives near La Paz, BCS, Mexico.)

I ask why she’s yelling at ME.

She has no answer.

Apparently, I’m responsible for the weather patterns in the entire northern hemisphere, today.

Also, the a/c in my office is set to subzero. My fingers are BLUE.

Yeah, such a Monday.

I spent the afternoon cleaning out my dresser, consolidating the clothing I actually wear a lot, and boxes most of the rest, so that Fuzzy could use half my dresser, and his old chest of drawers can be removed from the dressing room.

Half of staging a house for sale is getting rid of excess clutter.
Sometimes, this can include furniture. Also, less furniture makes the room seem bigger.

On a more personal note, I restored my writing blog to existence. I don’t update it very often, and right now it’s really playing host to some stuff I’ve also posted to my page on fanfiction.net, but once in a while I plan to add other stuff.

And on that note, I have some laundry to do, so I’m calling it a night.