It’s time for another picture-alicious post. First, my uber-adorable godson in an extreme closeup taken by the eldest demonspawn (which may explain why he looks so alarmed):

Next, the crib blanket I crocheted for Molly & Fred’s daughter Elizabeth (coming soon to a crib near you…that is, if you live in Portland):

I haven’t seen Angst looking so happy in ages. Maybe the family curse of the woes of Gemini men has skipped a generation. (And I can’t help liking him, even if he is too damned tall, and does set off metal detectors.) Check out the matching spectacles. And the eye-glasses, too. *smirk*

Molly cooked an utterly amazing Thanksgiving dinner — for the first time in my entire life, I had second helpings of turkey! And it was just really nice to hang out with her & Fred. We’ve got to see each other outside of work more often, which won’t be difficult once I start my new shift on the 17th and we both have weekends off! My youngest appeared rather intimidating with one of Fred’s toys…

And next…something kinda scary — for me, anyway. When I look at old pics of myself, I usually think, “Damn, I absolutely did not appreciate how good I looked at that age.” Every time I realize I’m not that far from 40, I try to comfort myself with the thought that most people seem genuinely surprised to find out how old I am. I’m not photogenic in the least (which is one of the reasons I got those naked art pics done 10 years ago, in the hopes of having at least 1 or 2 really lovely photos of myself!), but I haven’t done anything scary in a long time, so…

Here’s a pic of me wearing absolutely no makeup, completely bare-faced from the shower…
And now for something completely TMI…

Work — The bitches finally got their shit together and awarded me a coveted M-F day shift, making me glad that I didn’t ever actually blurt, “Who do you have to fuck to win a shift bid around here?!” As a thank-you, I wore makeup to work and smiled brightly at everyone today. I’m about 2/3 through the massive employee database location clean-up project, involving spreadsheets totaling over 36,000 lines of data, at least 4,000 employee database entries updated, and almost 1,500 emails sent by yours truly. So far. (They gave me a cute little award for doing it without bitching.)

Home — I haven’t called FEMA yet, nor have I recently stomped around yelling, “Just burn it all down and start over!” I still hate cooking, but least the laundry’s clean. You can tell because the cats are sleeping on it. (I need a wife!!! Tam, will you marry me?)

Offspring (mine) — Damn, I have hilarious kids…my eldest, during a discussion of moms with her friends, described me thusly: “My mom can smell bullshit from halfway around the planet. And she does this thing with her voice, that if it’s directed at you, you just want to die.” What a great kid. The youngest, remarking upon my return to MySpace (in order to openly spy on my kids, of course) and the fact that she & Sierra were the first to add me as a friend, said,” God, Mom, how creepy. Your only friends on MySpace are two 15-year-old girls.”

Offspring (not mine) — My godson continues to be the world’s coolest baby. He goes from screaming hysterically to sweet-as-pie within 15 seconds every time I pick him up. As a result, his mom regularly tells me, “I love you …but I hate you.” (I try not to provoke her, because those short chicks are dangerous!)

Men (mine) — I don’t get to see enough of either of them, and I don’t get to see either of them enough. However, it’s amazing how a few text messages can make you smile in ways that make people wonder what you’re up to…and wonder if they shouldn’t be up to it, too!

Men (not mine) — Why is it that the security guys in the building where I work flirt with me?! I’m polite, nothing more. (I gave up flirting for Lent last year, and had forgotten how by the time Lent was over. Oh, wait. I’m not Catholic. But still!) Anyway, if they must flirt with me, can’t they be smarter & cuter? It makes me think of Happy Bunny every time I see them.

Sex — My love life is like a fusion reactor: incredibly hot, immensely powerful, and mostly theoretical.

Taglines — I need more!!! I only have 3,500!!! (Okay, I’m still wading through the batch that Karel gave me. Nothing’s better than a boyfriend who gives you taglines and shivery-good kisses. And I have two of them!)

Scooter — I lurve my scooter. Sooooo much. Even when it’s so stupidly cold that my hands lose all feeling, and I can’t think except to recite Londo’s wonderful quote: “When I said my quarters were cold, I did not mean, ‘Oh, I think it’s a little chilly in here, perhaps I’ll throw a blanket on the bed.’ No, I said it was COLD, as in, ‘Oh, my left arm has snapped off like an icicle and shattered on the floor’!”

Weather — It would be nice if there were just enough humidity to bring out those glorious waves in my hair, without actually raining…at least not until I’m home. And whoever invented the concept of “wind-chill factor” needs to be slapped. Hard. And global warming? Total bullshit.

NaNoWriMo — It’s almost over, and I didn’t even take a stab at it. Yay!!! (I had more fun collecting NaNo LJ icons last year than actually writing my novel. Even if I did win. Finally. Which means I never have to again.)

Critters — How can a living creature that only weighs 75 grams be the loudest damned animal in the house?! I swear, the Six C-Note Gerbil needs to stop smoking crack and frantically rearranging his living quarters 18 hours a day. Or I’m going to superglue his goram little wooden house to the bottom of his goram little Habitrail.

Humor — Again, I point out my offspring. The eldest sent me email that ended with this beautimous paragraph:

Oh, by the way. I’ve taken to smoking crack, and prostitution to support my habit. I am also pregnant and I don’t know if it’s Dustin’s or my pimps. I also have the herpes and may end up putting my baby in a dumpster when it’s born. Or selling it for more crack. HA! I am hilarious.

Health — I have lost at least 5 lbs just by not drinking Starbucks. I wore my skinny jeans to work today, and I think even the gay boy looked at my ass. But somebody please tell me, does eating too many plants cause body odor?! I’ve been eating fruits & vegies like crazy for a few weeks, in an effort to comply with the wacky orders of my wacky doctor (her name is Madeleine…isn’t that pretty? but I digress), and no matter how often I shower and use the good deodorant, I still kinda smell ooky. This is really Just Not Okay.

BSG — I did not get to see Razor, because I had to fraking work that night! FAIL! (Somebody please tell me when it’s going to be re-run. I’m desperate here.)

It’s not every day you hear from an old flame. My ex Jerry decided to look me up a few days ago, and my mom left me voicemail with his number. He and I talked for quite a while tonight, and it was weird. But weird in a very good way!

I have a lot of history with Jerry. He was my second lover, a roommate for a while (when he was engaged to, and living with, my best friend from high school Brenda), and we lived together romantically for 3 years after my second marriage ended. He was my second husband’s best friend for several years, and he loved my girls as if they were his own. Tonight was only the second time I’d heard from him in about 8 or 9 years…and he wasn’t the only blast from the past!

And now for something completely TMI…

Nineteen years ago today, at 1:37pm after about 21 hours of labor, I became a mother. Andrea was born with a caul, which has been for centuries considered an omen of good luck, and old wives’ tales say it also means the child would have “second sight.”

She looked entirely like a Gerber baby, and I didn’t look half bad, either (the evidence). We tease her that she was named after my childhood cat, and it’s true…although it wasn’t really a conscious choice, as I (like most girls) had considered dozens of different names for my future children. One day when I was 12, I just suddenly knew that my firstborn would be a blue-eyed girl named Andrea, nicknamed Annie (I must admit, I didn’t foresee “Angst”). It didn’t hurt that “Annie’s Song” was one of my all-time favorites (and still is!).

She was so adorable, in every sense of the word. From a preschooler to a preteen goth-ling to a RHPS cabaret girl to a young artist to a tattooed vixen, she’s always been very much herself. And that fills me with pride and love, and hope that maybe I didn’t do too badly on my “practice kid.”

Happy Birthday, Beautimous Princess Anner-Nanners!

And now for something completely TMI…

For the first time in my entire life, I won something in a contest. How totally spiffy!

A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from Internet Bumper Stickers (a site I have known and loved — and contributed to! — for many years) announcing a contest for 10 lucky winners. All I had to do was go to this page, pick out a magnet, and write one sentence telling them why I want it.

I picked out this magnet, and wrote, “I like the one that says ‘Fridge Magnet’ because, in a sardonic and entirely unsubtle way, it epitomizes the essence of a fridge magnet.”

Today, I got an email requesting my mailing address, because, as they said, “Well, for some reason, we decided your magnet request deserved to win. Probably because you used the word sardonic.”

Sardonic FTW!!!

I did not get enough sleep today for the graveyard shift coming up tonight. I’ll be taking the General Foods International coffee mix into work with me, and hopefully the highly-sugared instant coffee will help.

The “holidays” are coming up. How depressing.

I’m seriously contemplating taking 4 or 5 vacation days just so I can clean & de-clutter my house to a reasonable standard. How very depressing.

The highlight of my week thus far has been several marathon sessions of crocheting while watching dozens of episodes of Babylon 5 on DVD (the best next-door neighbors in the world have the entire series, plus the movies). And doing laundry. That’s kinda depressing, too, now that I think about it.

A close runner-up to the highlight of my week thus far is the possibility that I may yet get that Mon-Fri day shift I’ve been hoping for. A coworker mentioned to me that another coworker got the job in another department that I knew she’d applied for, and if so, then I’m (theoretically) the very next in line, seniority-wise, to get her shift when she leaves my department. I’ll believe it when I see the email that awards me the shift…

Blah.

Tonight I went into the doctor’s for a review of my blood tests. Apparently now that I’m officially in my late thirties, I have to actually start taking care of my body. At least if I want to live to see my late seventies.

The good news: I am genetically blessed. Despite my massive consumption of red meat, eggs, and other dangerously cholesterol-laden foods, my blood cholesterol isn’t in the Bad Range. Specifically, my LDL (bad) cholesterol is well below the danger zone. My doc (actually she’s some kind of super-nurse) is very pleased about this, and says I can continue to eat red meat as I please.

The bad news: Unfortunately, my HDL (good) cholesterol needs to be higher than it is, although it’s not terribly worrisome; she wants me to cut down on fats other than the “healthy” kind such as olive oil. And my VLDL (very bad) cholesterol is bordering on the danger zone. Also, my blood pressure is a smidgen higher than it should be (it’s in the “prehypertensive” category)…to the point that she’s only willing to give me 3 months to try to get it down on my own — via dietary changes & exercise — before she puts me on medication for it. Ideally, she’d like to see me lose at least 10 pounds.

Hell, I’d like to see me lose at least 10 pounds!!!

And now for something completely TMI…

No date night for me tonight. The graveyard gal called out sick, and I’m the oncall person. So I have to go into work, until at least 5am (maybe 6am…I’m not real clear on when the oncall shift ends).

Words cannot express my annoyance. Stand by for gestures.

I’ve been reading the World Watch columns by Orson Scott Card at his site The Ornery American for months now. It startled me — a lot — to realize that I agreed with most of his views, which are pretty conservative and even downright Republican. (Keep in mind that I don’t agree with all of his views, most notably the religious ones.)

His essay on global warming is certainly worth thinking about (and comparing to an excellent book called The Little Ice Age, which substantiates a lot of it). His essays on the Middle East (dozens of them) are quite intriguing. His essay on gay marriage made me really think, profoundly, about what marriage means (and why I won’t have anything to do with it).

And although it may confirm that — despite being a witch, polyamorous, pierced, tattooed, and otherwise out of the mainstream of America — I cannot be called a “liberal,” his most recent essay on Islam (and why as it exists in America today it doesn’t deserve protection under the SecondFirst Amendment) is what I’ve been saying for years about that particular religion.

It amuses me that a devout Mormon and a devout Neo-Pagan have so many beliefs in common.

Yup, I (finally) bit the bullet and bought my scooter. It’s a 2005 model year, so it was $600 less than the current model — but it’s still new! It has a whopping 22 kilometers on the odometer. It’s the first brand-new vehicle I’ve ever owned. YAY!

They didn’t have a green one. But hey, I’m a roll-with-the-punches kind of gal, so I dismissed the momentary disappointment and got all excited about the one in the showroom. It’s raspberry! I know, I know…it’s uncharacteristic of me to like anything even remotely close to pink, but it’s a gorgeous color and maybe it’s about time I branched out from purple and green. (Don’t worry, it’s a short branch.)

I bought it Saturday after work, and today I’m going to my insurance agent and to the DMV to get it insured and licensed. Then I pick it up tomorrow, which is my day off. I’ve been reading up on the state laws for scooter driving (headlight must be on at all times, can’t ride in the bike lane, helmet is mandatory, etc).

The other Saturday excitement was that now both of my offspring are part of the Rocky Horror Picture Show crew! Angst was in the cabaret for a few years, and is now part of the theater lights team. Anxiety just tried out for a part in the cabaret, and is now an official Transylvanian! Angst’s boyfriend (who is also in the cabaret) promised he’d proclaim very loudly at regular intervals, “FIFTEEN!” to anyone who got a bit too interested in my youngest. He’s a nice boy; I think we’ll keep him.

Off to run errands!