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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

The Weekend and Other Things

The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels

bread and puppet

"About as much fun as a bag of weasels"...when I first saw this Irish adage, it made me think of the life of a writer: sometimes perilous, sometimes painful, certainly interesting. My paper journal has always been called "The Bag of Weasels." This is the Bag of Weasels' online home.

The Weekend and Other Things

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peace on earth
Friday night, we were supposed to go out to dinner for meryth's birthday and then go see a movie. Unfortunately, shortly after awaking from our Friday afternoon nap, Bobby started feeling poorly. We went out anyway, but he kept getting worse and worse, so we rushed through our dinner and skipped the movie in favor of coming home. By the time we got home, Bobby was feverish and practically convulsing, he was shivering so hard. He bundled up on the couch for an hour, then his fever broke suddenly and he felt much better. He even ate some oatmeal and waffles that I made for him (his request, not mine!).

So since Meryth kind of got the short end of the birthday stick, we will do a birthday dinner for him sometime later.

This weekend, we had planned to go to my parents' house. My parents are currently doing massive construction on their house. They are converting the current garage into a great room and dining room, knocking down the kitchen walls so that it opens onto the great room, and building a new garage. My dad has kept us all updated with frequent emails and pictures, but he's been chomping at the bit to show off his new room, even if it's nowhere near finished! So we went over to spend the weekend; he bribed us with dinner at Basta Pasta. Bobby and I are still near enough to our days as students that free food will still draw us in.

The new room is ... wow. It's huge! It used to be four rooms: a kitchen, dining room, family room, and garage. Now it's all one big open space ... it's massive! Everything is in shambles. There is dust everywhere, the floors are cold, dirty cement, and there is a water heater sitting somewhat at random in the corner. There are also holes everywhere covered over with plastic. The family room had a fireplace that had to be completely dismantled. When we first came in, poor Alex didn't know what to do. He rounded the corner and got a look like, "What the hell?! What is this place??" My parents' house is probably the second-most familiar place after our apartment, so his confusion was understandable.

Unfortunately, Bobby's strange illness kept returning at odd intervals for the entire weekend, though luckily, it was never as bad as it was on Friday night. For most of the weekend, though, he was curled on the couch in my parents' living room, which is actually the family room transplanted there since the actual family room is a dust-coated block of cement at the moment. Saturday night, we went to supper at the Greek Village and rented two movies from Blockbuster. Bobby wasn't feeling well, so we plugged in one of the movies: Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny. Trust me, do not rent this movie. It is beyond stupid. It not only suffers for brutally unfunny crudeness and stupidity but tries to be a rock 'n' roll musical with gawdawful music. A movie about music where, five minutes after the movie, you are left unable to hum a single song ... FAILURE.

We watched a bit of Saturday Night Live with Dad and then went to bed. (And Dad hates SNL ... but we were all too apathetic to change the channel. It's been years since I'd last seen SNL, and I miss the old cast.)

Sunday, Dad managed to make breakfast in the kitchen-in-shambles and pissed and moaned the whole time about how it might be the last time that he'd use his stove and he loves that stove and it has twenty-six years of seasoning on the grill ... I kept saying, "So keep the stupid stove then!" but he insisted that one cannot get a completely new kitchen and keep an old stove. The baby and the bathwater come to mind ...

Sunday, we did nothing. I scratched a bit in my new Paper Bag of Weasels (i.e., not this 'ere Cyber Bag of Weasels) and watched waaaay too much Home and Garden Television because, apparently, that is my parents' new TV channel du jour. Because Bobby and I have pretty much settled on the idea that we will be buying a house at the end of summer, I thought I might get some interesting decorating ideas ... not really. I did, however, develop an extreme distaste for descriptions of rooms/fixtures as "cute" or "fun." It's a fucking faucet. It's not cute. Golden Retriever puppies are cute; Maedhros and Fingon are cute; even Dawn Felagund frolicking through a big field of sunflowers might be cute ... though probably more scary than anything. Also claiming that this couch or that bathtub really "makes a statement" ... no, marching on Washington makes a statement. Putting a cardboard George W. Bush in your front yard with a knife through the head definitely makes a statement. But rhinestones on pillows? Not so much.

About halfway through the Day of HGTV, we did pause long enough to watch the second movie, The Lake House. This was definitely better than Tenacious D but still not fantastic. Never mind that the ending felt like the writers said, "Oh, shit. We've painted ourselves into a corner and have no choice but to have a sad ending ... so let's just randomly go back into time and erase things and ... yeah, we're not expecting an intelligent audience, so that will work."

Sunday night, we had a big ol' family supper at Basta Pasta, which was excellent, as usual.

Over the weekend in general, Bobby was sick and apathetic, and Alex was hyper--and annoying--as hell. Because my parents' house is torn to pieces with a huge, messy room to frolic in, then Alex literally refused to settle down. Alex will usually play for a half-hour to an hour, then sleep for two or three. Except when we made him go to sleep at night, he did not stop all weekend. And it wasn't oh-I'm-just-having-fun-la-la-la ... no, he was getting into things, like tearing off mouthfuls of yellow insulation or eating plaster crumbs off of the floor, so I had to keep one eye on him all weekend. I think that the novelty of it was just too much for him; he simply did not know how to settle down. On Sunday night, Bobby buckled him into the car, made him lay down, and he did not budge again until we got home. He fell asleep on the couch and refused to come to bed, so Bobby had to carry him into the bedroom, laid him on his bed, and again, he did not budge. Though, at some point during the night, he must have rolled into some baby gates that we had stacked in the corner because he knocked them over, woke everyone up, and scared himself shitless. Teehee.

Bobby was home sick today. Come to find out, his troubles are exacerbated by the fact that, last Tuesday, he fell backwards while playing hockey and hit his head on the ice. I knew that it happened but he did not tell me how badly he hurt himself. He has a whiplash in his neck and, we fear, perhaps a small concussion as well. So he has been in terrible pain. Just like a man, he downplayed it to me so that I would not worry or insist that he do such silly things like take it easy or take Ibuprofen for his pain. We had lunch together today at Panera Bread, and he got a stern talking-to. Though I should not complain; I am not much better about cowboying up through pain. (Though my hip has not hurt in weeks, thanks to the new bed, even when I lay on the floor, which used to cripple my right leg for about an hour afterwards.)

I'm still apathetic; still trying to get finished what I can but falling further behind every day. I'm sacrificing my writing to do other things because, truthfully, I don't feel much like writing right now. Spring can't come fast enough.

Before I STFU and stop jabbering, all Feanorian fans out there, check this out! noliel has made a music video about Nerdanel and Feanor; she did all of the drawings herself. It is beautiful and an amazing effort! I downloaded it on Bobby's computer just so that I could see and hear it (since Pengolodh Lord of Gondolin has no sound card.) It was well worth the effort!
  • Oh, dear. Looks like Bobby has come down with Ye Olde Lurgy. My sympathies.

    Ah, HGTV. The place I used to work at once tried to pitch a really terrible reality show to HGTV. I mocked the idea for a while, and it eventually went away. My own apartment is decorated in a style that I refer to variously as Ohshit, or Cheap Chic, depending on how much thought and planning goes into a particular furniture acquisition.

    The desk was the result of acquiring a posh new computer and an apartment with hardwood floors, and the desk chair was the result of acquiring the desk. The sewing rocker was a semi-impulse purchase -- I'd wanted a rocking chair for several years, and I just happened to be in the same neighborhood as a lot of tag sales, with a friend who had a car with a roomy trunk, and there was this adorable little rocking chair for twenty dollars. The latest bookcase was carefully considered and paid for with birthday money. The new floor lamp was the result of me volunteering to host a singing at my apartment and realizing that I didn't have sufficient lampage for everyone to see their books. I've made all my curtains myself, either out of cheap but lovely lining material or old sheets. The quilt on the couch was a graduation present from my aunt.

    That's how I "decorate."
    • This is über late ... my apologies! :(

      We decorate for reason of necessity or sentimentality. We needed a new bookcase because the books were piled so deep on the other two that we couldn't find anything ... so we got a new bookcase. We couldn't find a color that matched, so we got one that made a nice dark-to-light gradient with the other two.

      But then most of our "accessories" are sentimental things. This is what always strikes me most about decorating programs: They focus so hard on the look of things that I sometimes think that they lose sight of the meaning. Truly, I doubt that anyone would think that the horribly ugly little man dragging a fistful of bananas who is carved from a piece of wood that and holding open our bedroom door is an attractive piece. But it is one of the few things that I have from my maternal grandmother; it was purchased on a cruise that she took and really enjoyed, so I know that it was bought with happiness and fond memories in mind. And so while a decorator would probably clutch his/her chest and go, "OMG," I love the little guy and will never get rid of him.

      We have few accessories that lack in meaning, that were purchased only because they were pretty or looked nice with the rest. It can make the place look sort of odd sometimes (or scary, given the 42-inch sword on the wall in the study!) but I wouldn't have it any other way.
  • Men *shakes her head* tell Bobby he has to be careful, especially with concussions!!! If you neglect it, you are only paying for it later on. But it seems to be flue season, I am trying to ctach up and falling behind myself..
    • He is doing much better now. And so far as we know, nothing can be done for concussions anyway; we were more concerned for his neck, which refused to heal.

      But, as they say, all is well that ends well. :)
  • Hee, we used to have Basta Pasta here as well!
    Have to confess I never went to it though, because the word was that it wasn´t particularly good...?
    It´s also closed down now I think, because it used to be in the harbour which is a vurry popular place and you´d better do it well if you wanna survive there. So yeah... but erm, coincidence! ;o)
    • Hehe ... yes, I don't think that they're related! Our Basta Pasta is (as far as I know) exclusive to Fallston, Maryland, which is a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere. :^P

      Our Basta's food is good, at least ...
  • At least Alex is not a cat! ;P We did the stoopid thing and got Evil Kitty in the middle of our construction project.

    And a day of H&G is better than a day of Spongebob. *shudders*

    Just like a man, he downplayed it to me so that I would not worry or insist that he do such silly things like take it easy or take Ibuprofen for his pain.

    *coughpotkettlecough* ;P
    ...Wait, are you implying that there is actually Ibuprofen in your apartment?!?!?! I'd never have guessed. ;P

    It must be sick weekend though. I felt awful on Saturday night - made worse when my roommate mentioned to a friend, "We went to Casa Bonita and ate velveeta enchiladas," at which point I realized, "Omg, we did." (Note: One does not go to Casa Bonita for the food. One goes for the cultural experience and the hot male divers. :) )

    Also, feel you on the apathy. It took a lot of will power to bring myself to study. I thought, "Oh, equine behavior. I know this stuff." Yeah...bad call. I did get some studying in on nutrition, and since I was taking the exam early, the office was playing music while I was taking the exam, which I helped me I think. (We'll see how much it helped when I get my grade back.) Luckily, I have only one more class before spring break, and just need to get my oil changed. Then I can go train Jazzy (cute little bay mare) as much as I want. It's even been warm (i.e. 50). Thank god.

    • *huggles back*

      Sorry so late in replying ... (bad 'gund!)

      Yes, we do have Ibuprofen in the apartment, as unbelievable as that may seem. Bobby takes it more than I do, of course. :^P

      Velveeta enchiladas??? *gag* Why does the word "Velveeta" alone make me gag these days? It reminds me too much of velvet or maybe red velvet cake ...


      Is your weather still fair? We had the upper 70s today! w00t! Of course, I had to work ... not w00t!
      • Why does the word "Velveeta" alone make me gag these days?

        Because Velveeta is, in fact, gross? Except as Velveeta-and-Rotel queso. For some reason, I like that stuff.

        Well, I think the weather is still fair. I'm at home now. ;) It's pretty warm here, for certain though! Though the past two days gave us rain. I also can get a decent wireless internet signal outside! :) Nice weather + computer activities = having cake and eating it too. ;)
        • Ah, yes, you would be home! Well, enjoy Home! Alex asks me to lick Tor and Loki for him. That would be weird, so I will say pet them instead. :^P

          And yay for wi-fi outside! We have wi-fi and a balcony, but I've been taking advantage of the sunlight in the past few days and painting my nerdy models outside. *nerdy wheeze*
          • Haha, well then I will make kissy faces at them for Alex. (While trying not to accidentally get frenched by a dog. That's even worse than getting accidentally frenched by Finrod!) ;)

            I am so glad I've discovered wi-fi outside! And the signal is even "very good". :) If only I could get a good signal outside at school. Ah, I guess that's the difference between three computers using the router versus four hundred.
            • Hey, I lick Alex sometimes.

              We also "kiss like gnomes" ... that is, we rub our noses together. I can't take a lot of licking from a dog because I am slightly allergic and will break out in itchy bumps. So Alex knows to either limit himself to a single slurp or to kiss like gnomes.
              • I generally don't lick my dogs. Or at least I try not to. Hair in mouth, bleh. But, having been licked on the mouth by the dogs, I can say that it isn't exactly fun.
  • Hahahaha, sounds like the good ol' Walls-man. I haven't seen he or G-L-E-N-D-A in, like, forever. Unfortunately, they'd likely be mighty disappointed at my current situation. This Monday, I Harold J. Potter, Esq., Clown President, started back at The Piece... I know, it's almost too awful to comprehend. I was left with few other choices after the closing of the bookstore. It was my first night back, closing by myself and I still managed to have a pristine close by 10:15 with deckbrushing. It saddens me that I could go on cruise control my first night back after a year and a half absence.

    Oh, and you'll love this part: after I inquired as to the last cleaning of the soft serve machine, the manager on duty paused and said, "Umm, I think... yeah, about two weeks." It was so bad that even just opening the lid to the chocolate soft serve almost sickened me with the smell of "dirty feet", as the manager put it. The soft serve was actually coagulated and hardened on the top and along the sides of the basins. Fortunately, she proceeded to clean in that very night at close.

    The GM, who by the way is most definitely senile to the nth degree, wants me to learn grill. I know it'll be more money, but I'm still reluctant to go through the training process with anyone but Evan, especially since there are, at last count, three actual cooks employed by the store, and Party Brad, who is a *snicker* GSS, but is almost always cooking. Oh, and speaking of clowns, I overheard two employees who came to our The Piece from the Main St. The Piece talking about an employee named "Andrew." Upon further inquiry, one of the two proclaimed, "Yeah, I love Andrew Lee, though he's usually getting screwed over. He's pretty much a manager without the manager hours."

    And damn, tell Bobby not to go killing himself out on the ice. How am I supposed to play on a line with him if he's concussing himself with head-to-ice spills?
    • B-I-G-P-O-T-T-S!!!

      My unasked-for opinion: Learn grill. ;) For the money, if nothing else. Plus, on grill, you don't have to deal with customers and you can cop a 'tude if you want/need to. Many 'tudes were copped, back in my day as the Queen Bitch of Grill. (Not the Grill Bitch, mind you ... that was Gary! :^P) Aaaaand, once you learn grill, then you will be able to go and cook at another place, if you want. Heck, it's good money! I have no shame! ;^D

      That's hilarious about the Narco Clown. My parents saw who they thought was Andrew riding a bike down Route 23 the other day. They said that he was much skinnier, but the face was the same. (Did I recall correctly when you said he'd lost a lot of weight? It wouldn't surprise me, no longer living with the Ogre Family ... and most of his weight problem was recovery-related anyway.)

      Bobby's all better now, for the record. How about you? Have you destroyed yourself today?? :^D

      Oh, and thanks for the 411 on the soft serve machine ... though working in a place with a soft serve machine made me never want to eat the stuff again. >:-þ
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