Balance pt. 2

After we watched Himiko-den and beatgoddess and primitive_boy had come back home, we arranged the coffee table into a very gorgeously lit altar (fifteen candles cheerily burning does the psyche much good). and spent much of the evening making summery and healing amulets with small wooden disks or suns and woodburners. I didn't really feel like drawing so I instead experimented with a couple of the disks and beatgoddess's power drill. The end results were a couple of amulets that looked a little like ritz crackers at the beginning, but then turned into good stuff once I began threading yellow and red yarn through all of the holes. One came out being a wheel with eight spokes for each of the eight Sabbats, the other (due to drilling more holes) was a sun(/)flower. The Casita resolved to make efforts towards doing more pagan stuff, like starting to keep up with the full moons and not letting holidays pass like we have been doing. And for now, the coffee table is still a wicked pretty altar, despite the fact that the cats have done their best to wreck it.

I know I went to bed kinda late on Saturday, but I can't really remember what happened after the ritual. I do know that beatgoddess and the boy ordered pizza and were working on something on the computer and sundart had gone to bed, but I can't remember what darkling and I were doing until one o'clock . . . Whatever it was, we would up missing Samurai Jack and .hack//sign, but didn't notice... oh yeah! I had brought home Frida for beatgoddess because she has the THING for Frida Kahlo (don't blame her, the woman was pretty damn cool) and the three of us sat down and watched it. I actually enjoyed the movie as it was beautifully made and shot, and really liked how Julie Taymor had taken some shots of Frida's paintings and made them come to life. It probably wasn't the most historically accurate movie in the world as beat pointed out a few times (Diego Rivera was a much bigger anus than that! And Frida slept with a few more women than actually depicted . . . though I was surprised they didn't edit out the lesbeeeanery altogether), but it had a gorgeous soundtrack, and beautiful colors, and . . . hee. I'd watch it again, but I should prolly take it back today, as it was due back Saturday.

Sunday dawned wet and nasty and continued to be wet and nasty all day. Still, it was also a pretty kickass day - sundart and I spent a very yummy morning together, taking advantage of the fact that nobody was awake yet. then she made yummy pancakey goodness for everyone, and then (no "and then!") between me washing, dianime drying, and sundart putting away, we managed to get every single dish done. And there were quite a few of them!

We watched the last tape of Himiko-den, (with many a Bokka-burger joke) and then went downtown so that sundart and I could pick up bus ticket like substances for later on this week, I could get my card credited at Cornucopia for being charged twice for something (normally I wouldn't care, but this was 25 bucks) and we could go to Osaka for really really really good Japanese food. Mmm, sukiyaki . . . *drool*

We returned, stuffed and triumphant and immediated gravitated towards living room and TV where we put on Fellowship of the Ring, extended batshit director's cut remix, and pretty much Mystery Science Theatered the parts we had seen (though we shut up for the new parts) I wish I remembered some of the cracks we had made, they were really funny. I do remember one of them involving Arwen binding herself to Aragorn with duct tape . . . and after three and a half hours worth of movie, darkling_dreams bid us adieu and slogged through the rain towards home, and sundart and I went to bed . . .

and that was my weekend. :) And a very good one it was.

take two

I was just sitting down to post when a thunderstorm decided to break violently around our little house. I shut off the pooter like a good little technogeek, and immediately ran into my room where I thoroughly enjoyed and then was lulled to sleep by the banging crashing and platter of one of these forty minute weather tantrums called scattered T-storms around here. I was awakened to sundart petting my head and a blue sky, as if Nature was playing innocent. What thunderstorm? There wasn't any thunderstorm! . . . What? Oh, why all this water's on the ground? Um . . . well, you know those military folk over at Westover Air Force Base? They're experimenting with new super-soaker technology . . . ok, fine you got me, I did it.

heh heh

A fairly uneventful day besides. I discovered this morning that it is possible to coast all the way from the Smith art museum to just past the railroad bridge without either pedaling or braking. And while I was zooming down Main Street, I saw these two women getting out of a car - one was somewhat shorter, with long hair and glasses, one was taller and blonde, wearing a long black raincoat and boots, and had half her hair caught up away from her face. They looked exactly like inle_rah and gossamer_gull and I was going to yell "Hey, what the hell are you guys doing here?" and then I passed them and it was these two middle aged women, but they still looked a lot like them. It's not the first time something like that had happened to me - when I was a kid I'd run into adult versions of my friends all the time. It was pretty strange . . .

My mother has sent me an exasperated email about how she's having trouble reaching me. Some people are so incredibly dense. Consider this - the last time I talked to her was when I posted last Tuesday and she had been really mean to me. If the last thing you had heard from someone was a quavery yet pissed off "Mother, that was the last thing I needed to hear. Goodbye." wouldn't you get the idea that that person didn't really want to talk to you, especially if you had been beastly and hadn't yet apologized? But no, it's my mother's parental right to make me feel guilty for not calling her, even if it is her fault. She's probably managed to block out the fact that she was an absolute horror to me last week. She'll probably call work tomorrow if she doesn't hear from me tonight, but she's been placed on the "direct to phone mail" list. so that tactic won't work anymore. What gives? honestly. She tells me to grow the hell up and stop being so "immatoor" and yet washes her hands of any accountability she may have, and still she expects unquestionable respect. Bah. Still haven't figured out what I what to do about it yet. Maybe I should email her back something curt and polite explaining how I don't really want to talk to her just now as she really upset me last week. Of course, that's liable to earn me another treatise on my own "immatoority," and how I'm overdramatizing things as usual, and I should just get over it and myself. Damn it all.

One of the things she said in a semi critical manner last week was how us UNIS kids were free spirits and we could just say anything to anybody. Yep. We were taught to speak our minds. What exactly is wrong with that? Gaaargh.

It's days like this that makes parts of me feel like that society in Logan's Run had the right idea, not letting people age past a certain point. Of course, that eliminates all the cool older people whose minds haven't calcified shut. Ah well. I guess this is another good reason why people like me should not run the planet . . .

**edited, as gossamer_gull pointed out that the "not" was missing. It was supposed to be there. Really.