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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain


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.


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hugo reyes--dude
I've discovered an interesting side effect of my new job: I get hungry! Like enormously, gnawing-the-legs-of-the-furniture hungry. I've always eaten a lot (to the point that my family always sends what they can't finish down the table my way), and mental--not physical--exertions seem to get my appetite going. I remember being a freshman in university and spending the entire day studying for a chemistry exam with my friends, then sitting the exam in the late afternoon. Bobby and I went out for Mexican food that night. I remember exactly what we ordered: We both ordered three cheese enchiladas with rice and beans. Plus an appetizer that I don't remember. I polished off my meal; Bobby couldn't manage the third enchilada or the rice, so I finished his meal as well. (He still teases me about the hungry way I eyed his unfinished food and offered, "Are you going to eat that?")

I actually use my brain now at my job. I didn't at the WAU. A trained monkey could do most of it; the biggest challenge was learning how to get one dozen "high-priority" tasks done at once. Unless I was doing investigative stuff, though, or stats, nothing was exactly mentally challenging after a while. I'm feeling the difference in my appetite.

It hasn't helped that we've eaten mostly vegan this week. Every week, we can get more fresh veggies at the farmer's market, and we've started collecting from our garden as well. Plus, we made a big dinner for our parents on Saturday and used up most of the cheese we'd bought for the week. So aside from a little dish of yogurt every day and a sprinkling of parmesan cheese here and there, we've been eating mostly vegan, and not a lot of hearty foods like beans either, since so many veggies are available.

Last night, Bobby made stir fry for dinner. His stir fry is epic. I plucked some lettuce from the garden and made a salad to go with it. I had salad and two plates of stir fry and was still ravenous. And it wasn't "my brain hasn't caught up with my body so I'll sit fifteen minutes and it'll go away" hunger either. I sat for fifteen minutes, and it just made me hungrier. So we drove up to the ice cream trailer that used to be in Manchester and is now in Hanover because they sell malted milkshakes and Felak <3 malted milkshakes.

And, finally, I was no longer hungry.

So I need to be careful to eat enough, I suppose. We really need to get up to Shrewsbury to get some bulk dried goods--noodles and rice and stuff--but have been so busy on the weekends and the market isn't open on Sundays.

Anyway, it was a good thing--though for a bad reason--that we went up to the ice cream trailer. We were out of cash, so we stopped at the ATM in town and, while we were waiting to turn back onto the street, a rabbit went bounding across the grass, and it was one of those things that you watch and just know it won't end well. Sure enough, it ran out into the street and under a car and, when the car had passed, the rabbit was laying in the road. At first, I thought it was killed instantly ... but then it started trying to get up. It was kicking its back legs, but the rest of it was too broken to move. Of course, all of the cars that came after deliberately went around it. So, after sitting for about twenty seconds and deliberating, Bobby turned out in that direction (even though that's the long way to the ice cream trailer) and ran it over to kill it. I screamed when we hit it and cried a little afterward because I'm a pansy, but I do think it was the right thing to do. Who knows how long that poor creature would have lain there otherwise.

I thought I had that out of my mind but I guess not because I had a nightmare last night that seems to relate pretty closely to it. In my dream, I was at a "canned hunt" facility--one of those places where people pay lots of money to shoot caged or penned animals (often "retired" zoo animals) at close range so that they can have a trophy for their wall. Only it was more like a Hostel-type place where people not just kill animals for the hell of it but do so with creative weapons, for lack of a better word. I kept seeing all of these wounded animals that I assumed would die quickly but kept on going with these awful injuries. I stood in the middle of all of this with my hands over my eyes and crying, and people were sort of marveling at why I was there if I couldn't take it. Eventually, my friends Tristan (my laurel), Don (his husband), and Alex (the guy who used to own the cleaning company that cleaned the WAU, not Alex the Golden) came along; I don't know why they were there, but they took me away to this little room, and we just sat there and they talked to me since I was so upset. Tristan, I'm sure, ended up in my dream because we're having dinner with him tonight. Don was along by default. I'm not sure how Alex ended up there except that I've been thinking of emailing him to see how he's doing at the WAU sans Dawn. Anyway, eventually the "hunters" got tired of messing with the animals (or maybe they were all dead?) and came in and started threatening people just to see the reactions they'd get. I never felt in danger; they were only threatening people of color (never mind that I was there with an African American guy and two gay guys; we were sort of there but yet not in that weird way that dreams work). The disturbing layers of this dream keep piling on, the more that I think about it.

Then the dream ended. Thankfully. It was terribly vivid (I have not gone into that because it would be very gratuitous.) Anyway, anyone who's ever wondered how a pacifist vegetarian comes to write such dark fiction, there ya have it.

Now I need to get to work. "Health Care Science Careers" awaits my writerly expertise!

Also, I had lots of requests on my five question m-word thing and want to make them all good questions, so I'll be working on that slowly over the next few days too! :)
  • My sleep tends to get all wonky too, when I'm really into something, mostly because I'm a night owl who has forced herself to pretend to be a morning person. :) But when my muses come alive, it happens at night. I suffered from insomnia throughout most of university before realizing that all I needed to do to make it go away was write down the stories that were keeping me up at night!
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