What I'm Up To...

Because you care so much. :-/

Anyway...So I've been working on the Christmas afghan. It's turning out nice if I do say so myself. I just hope it doesn't turn out too narrow. I'm afraid that it will, but I figure if it does, I'll just pretend I always meant it that way. Just like Julia Child said, "Who's going to know?"

Delaney has decided, lately, to let me have my bed. I'm not sure how long this will last though. She's still taking it over during the day, but at night the bed is mine.

I just finished reading 16 Lighthouse Road by Debbie Macomber. It's just a sweet, fun read but then all her books are. She tends to write romances but they're more rooted in the real world than a trashy Harlequin romance. She also has an amazing knit series called The Shop on Blossom Street. You should totally check her out.

I started reading Kingdom Come by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins. It's the sequel to the Left Behind series. I'm not very far into it, but so far it seems okay. I have a weird relationship with this series. I enjoyed the main series, but I never found it to be well written. Jenkins (the actual writer, LaHaye had the idea for the series) has this habit of over-explaining some things and then under-explaining other things. I also have a problem with the prequels, those were just ridiculous. The prequels are even more over dramatic than the entire series. In the main series the over dramatic dialog and actions wasn't so bad since it was spread out over twelve books but the prequels jams all that over acting into three. That and demon children from homosexual sperm donors was just too weird for me. I gave up a third of the way through the second prequel and have no plan of reading them again. I'd rather let the character's pasts be a mystery. It's better that way.

We went to the Tennessee State Fair this week. We're not going back again. It was so boring and the only good parts were the rides, which there weren't that many. It was a total disappointment for all of us. We're going to try some other fair my mom found next month. I don't remember the name. I'm still licking my wounds from this last fair.

Well my little demon monkeys, I shall bid you adieu. Until we meet again. :-)

The Populace: A Short Story

She walks among the broken glass lining the shore. The hot wet sticky fluids cling to her bare feet. She no longer feels it. No longer feels anything. This blood is nothing new to her. This blood is nothing to the blood she has shed before, to the blood she has watched leave its host before.

Blood. There is nothing new to blood. In this whole damned world, it’s the only constant. Blood flows through the veins, never ceasing until the heart stops. Red blood cells flow through the veins, providing nourishment while the white blood cells stave off infections. Through everything that has happened to the outside of their bodies, her body, the blood has stayed the same. Never changing, always moving.

She wasn’t there when it began. No, only the good and the great were. That is, the rich and powerful. So rarely are the good or great. No, she was among the populace. She was one of the sufferers, the victims of others greed. It was the same old story, the rich wanting to become richer. Only this time, the world suffered. The world suffered and there was no going back. Not this time. Not with everyone dead and dying. This was the end of the world, and everyone knew it.

The day the world collapsed was just like any other day. The populace lived out their little lives. They drank their coffee, slept their sleep, watched their movies, loved, laughed, and cried. There was nothing special about that day. The populace didn’t know that the great and good had done the unthinkable. They had completely and utterly destroyed the world, without ever shedding a tear for the lives that would be lost by the morning. It wasn’t the calm before the storm, it was the storm. There just were no clouds in the sky.

By morning, the screams of pain and terror were so deafening that no one was sure if they were the one screaming. The flames licked your skin, the water stifled your breath, the air refused to fill your lungs. It was over. The ones who died that day, and there were many, they were the lucky ones. The populace shouted at their leaders for an answer, but no reply ever came.

You see, the great and good were gone. They had died. Either their own hand or another’s, they had been among the first death toll. Cowards. While the populace suffered, the great and good had escaped the worst of it. While millions died in agony, their deaths came by a signal bullet to the head or chest. The populace hoped they burned in Hell, but knew that was impossible. Hell was hunk of earth floating in space, slowly dying.

It would be an exaggeration to say the populace wasn’t prepared for the subsequent years after the collapse. In this wasteland, nothing got better. There were no leaders, no rules. Complete and total anarchy. Kill or be killed. Live or die. Those who chose to live found quickly that dying would have been a better choice. Some were just too stubborn to die, human instinct to survive and all that jazz.

The populace tried to recover. Small factions arose that tried to create some kind of structure amongst the chaos, but they were few and far between. Those factions could never last long before someone else decided that they’re way was the best way. The populace struggled to create a life similar to the one that had before the collapse, but it was always so far out of reach. The dog days would never be over.

She reaches down and pulls the piece of fabric from the skeleton’s hands. It is tattered and worn. Not an uncommon sight in this world. She wraps it around her head, covering the eyes. The eyes that have seen bodies lie in their own blood and waste, the eyes that have seen murder, rape. The eyes which have seen the horrors of humanity pushed to the brink are covered. The eyes that have seen so much pain and suffering refuse to see the world on its last hour. The eyes refuse to see as the brightest light that has ever touched the earth burns the crust of the planet and boils the core. They refuse to see, like the rest of the populace, the final sunrise.

New Furniture and a Sleeping Dog

So Tuesday afternoon the furniture for the house came. This is amazingly exciting because my mom ordered this furniture on June 28 and it took almost two months to finally get all this furniture, though the website claimed it would only take ten to fifteen days so theoretically the furniture should have been at the house before my mom and I got to TN. But I guess we all know that wasn't exactly true.

I guess I should cut them a little slack since it was a whole house worth of furniture, but since a lot of the pieces were scratched or dented I'm not going to. Why? Mostly because I'm a bitch like that.

In other news, since the furniture got here I was able to finally put up my bird decorations. My room colors are black and white which is pretty awesome to me. I got these really pretty bird cling stickers from Target and these plastic silhouette of birds in flight also from Target. I think it looks pretty good, but my brother thinks it looks tacky and stupid. I don't know why I care what the WoW kid thinks, but it really bothers me when he calls my stuff tacky or makes fun of my (lack of) style. Younger siblings are pains in the asses, but I suppose a lot of people already know that.

I'm really enjoying the new set up in my room. Originally I was supposed to have a full bedroom set with a headboard, foot board, two nightstands, a high chest of drawers and a dresser with mirror, but since I'm on the top floor and share a wall with the roof my ceiling and walls are anything but symmetrical. The ceiling slopes and the walls are all different heights so the headboard would never fit. Plus my whole room is shaped really odd because of the dormer window in my room, so in the end only the high chest of drawers and one of the nightstands would fit. I'm okay with it though since I have more of a minimalist style. My mom picked out all the furniture with basically me just saying I liked it. I mean it's her house, she lets me live here for free and pays for my gas and expenses, why should I complain about anything?

I mean I do, but I really shouldn't.

Anyway, there hasn't been much progress on the afghan. I finished another row of cables but right now I'm too lazy to take a new picture of it. Maybe when I have some more of it finished in the next post.

In Delaney news, she got a new haircut from my mom so now I can see her face! No more Chewie look for this little lady. She hates getting shaved on her face though. I don't blame her, that razor is loud and scary when it's coming up to you. She's just in love with my bed now also. I can't really get her off unless my brother decides to be bratty and play with her on the bed to which she hops off and goes under my desk to warm my feet. And sleep because that's what she wanted to do on that bed anyway. Seriously though, when I finally decide to go to bed it is like moving an elephant so I can wiggle into a small area to sleep. That Kibbles and Bits eating Mother Chicken will not let me sleep in my bed without the written consent of herself and Fox News. I don't know when she and Fox got so buddy buddy.

So I'll end this post with a few new pictures of my bed, my birds and my Delaney.


Love, Peace and Chorizo Grease!