Oh damn, but I’ve fallen off the wagon

Hello dahlinks,

I do apologize for falling off the face of the Earth, but I assure you it was for a very good reason: once I was free of the clutches of graduate school until February, I shut down. Not in a bad way, like oh-dear-time-to-hide-the-Wüsthofs-again, but rather like the way you must every so often remove the batteries from your TI-89 (there I go outing myself as a nerd again) and plug them into the charger and repolarize the little piles of electrochemicals that power it. I slept, I slept for glorious 12 hour stretches. I drank, I drank most of an entire jug of sangría. I didn’t answer my cell phone for days at a time. It was glorious. Glorious I tell you.

But, now that the new year has begun, I’ve got to break out of my cocoon and be fabulous in public again. So here I am, emerged and reconnected. I was listening to Elton John tonight, and “The Bitch is Back” really sums up how I want to face the onslaught of existence this trip ’round the sun:

I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch
Oh the bitch is back
Stone cold sober as a matter of fact
I can bitch, I can bitch
Cause I’m better than you
It’s the way that I move
The things that I do

Far be it for provincial little me to adopt the attitude that I’m better than anyone, but it is a useful mantra for puffing up your self-esteem. But I definitely am a bitch. And a bitch that is back.

Unfortunately, God seems to have made the same bitchy resolution for the new year. I woke up at sparrow’s fart this morning to the sound of howling wind and previously stationary plants, objects, animals in the yard seizing their chance to FLY. The poor plumeria against the south wall of the house was bent nearly double. Ma decided we should start siphoning off the pool before it flooded its banks and killed every plant its waves of chlorinated water touched. We did the usual siphoning maneuvers and were running into the back-backyard to let the house drain into the alley, when I exclaimed, “Oh, shit!” Ma, concentrating on not stepping in pots full of water and keeping the end of the hose sealed, responded, “what?” I implored her to raise her head. The 65-mph winds had taken our back fence and neatly laid it on its side, opening our backyard to God and everyone. This is bad, not only because, hey, a fence fell and the fuckers are expensive to replace, but since we have a pool, local and county codes dictate that we have an impenetrable (to little ones) fence around it. So, the little matter of there being a direct footpath between public right of way and the bottom of our 11-foot-deep pool is probably giving some city inspector a wet dream even as I type this. We managed to prop it up until we can replace it, tying it to poles and propping it up with our garbage cans, which probably means we’ll also get a ticket for leaving our garbage cans in the alley outside of pickup day.

But, life soldiers on. Christmas eve was really quite lovely, and Christmas at our house was even better. I have lovely and amusing pictures to share, but those shall come later.

I’m also toying around with the idea of moving this shindiggy to WordPress, so I’ll have to see if I can scrounge together the brain cells to make that happen. I’ve begun work on the rest of my site as well, so expect grandiose things from this site in the (hopefully not-too-distant) future.

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