Lizard Love

Okay, every day I don't post on here, I post in my head. I actually live a moment and then think about how I should write about it.

I'm coming to realize that I enjoy obsessing over something for a while- researching it ad nauseam, buying lots of stuff to fulfill my current need, and then I move onto the next thing. This used to bother me a lot - I thought I was flighty and never satisfied. OKAY. There may be a hint of truth to that- but. I really enjoy focusing on something for a time - I love the researching and learning and fact-finding.

Currently my fascination is lizards! I grew up with the idea that people who owned lizards were 18 year old burn-out Pink Floyd-loving high school dropout boys. Although this description accurately describes me, I didn't really come into accepting it until recently.

I recently joined a message board for herp-owners. OH my freaking god. You don't know what "herp" is? It's short for herpetology, you fool.

I went from allowing my anoles to suffer in a regular 20 gallon tank, (what was I even thinking?!) to pimping out their little world with live plants, an expensive (sorry, Christian) UVB-emitting lightbulb, thermometer, moisture meter, and exclusively gut-fed crickets.

The green anoles that were brown for so long immediately turned green and started communicating with me. At first I just got a little wave, but soon they began to expound on the ins and outs of their infinitely fascinating lives. Who knew they were die-hard Kierkegaard fans? Elephant, over a cup of green tea one day, exclaimed in utter disgust,

How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?

I won't even bore you with my retort!

Anyhoo, I love their little bad-ass lizard selves. Dangerous hobby, lizarding. I'm already on to researching Bearded Dragons and Chinese Water Dragons. I want to convert our newly-found china cabinet into a huge, perfectly balanced lizard habitat. Sigh.

Story 2: We've been had! Duped!

Once upon a time, I deposited our paychecks today. When I stole a quick glance at our balance, I noticed something quite peculiar indeed! Our balance was at negative $1,000 some odd dollars.

"How silly and rather anomalous!" I declared to no one in particular.

Upon arriving home, and muttering something under my breath to Christian about us being "fucked", or some such nonsense, I hightailed it to my online bank site.

This is precisely when I noticed that a pesky third party had found their way into our checking account, and subsequently, our hearts.

Me: "What if the poor little guy is hungry? Why, he must be if he went to all that trouble! He was even too embarrassed to ask us for help directly. I feel that we must have been hand-chosen by God himself to come to the aid of this fellow. What do you say, Christian?"


This is the exact point in time at which Christian turned into the God of Hellfire.


Upon arriving back at our financial institution at 4:55, we were ushered in to speak with "Dave", who straightened out the whole mess for us. Or, at least he started to straighten out the whole mess.

We'll see what tomorrow brings. We are in the midst of a full-fledged "case". I'm so excited and happy to finally have something to break up this monotonous existence of ours. Fini.

Story 1: The Peacock Fairy

Once upon a time, a year ago, there was a little girl who wouldn't go to bed. No matter what her parents tried, she refused to budge and her parents were nearly mad with frustration. Suddenly, her father had a brilliant idea.

"Daughter!" the frazzled father exclaimed.

"Yes, father?" queried the wicked little minx.

"If you don't go to bed now, the Peacock Fairy cannot visit?"

"The who-what-huh-what?"

"Why the Peacock Fairy, of course. You must place something pink under your pillow tonight, and when you awake in the morning, the Peacock Fairy will have left a drawing of a Peacock for you. Only good little girls get them."

And with that she was gone.

It works wonders to this day. In fact now she thinks up when she wants to throw something pink under her damn pillow, and we use it to our advantage. The End.



This is the Peacock Fairy, next to F. I think she's smiling at F in pity because she noticed the huge wonky hand F is sporting. The thing that looks like a vagina on the P. Fairy, is a decorative flower on her dress. F gives all her special characters who wear dresses one of these. Not sure who the extra characters are. Maybe a couple of alter egos.

Great New Recipe! Totally To Die For!

I just googled "cheap meals". We're trying really hard to live below our means due to a maybe impending pay cut. Nice timing. Niiiiiiiiice tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiming.

Anyhoodle, this is probably my favorite, and I'm almost tempted to make it, if I didn't think I'd vomit up three weeks worth of food after the first bite. Gotta go look for more.

Spam and Cheese

Grind up 1 can of Spam or Treet. Then mix it with the following:

• 2 eggs, beaten
• 20 square soda crackers, crushed
• 1 pt. milk
• 3/4 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded, plus a little more for the top

Mix together and bake this, uncovered, in a casserole dish for an hour at 350 degrees F.

Me Wants

OHMEGODZ There's a new David Sedaris out and I want it. Okay? Okay. The first eight people to send this book to me will receive a special prize.

speeeeeeshuuuuuuuulllllllll priiiiiiiiiiizeeeeeeeeeeeee


Obviously I have nothing of interest to report for today. Ta ta

Post Script

P.S. If I am found dead in a heap on my dining room floor, it is simply because I can't breathe due to all the gas my doggy is emitting. Damn her anus. All of the windows are open and it's still inconceivably suffocating in here. Fare thee well.

Twirpy

This is an email I received from my sis today:

Today I was trying to describe a sound the fax machine made to a coworker and I kept saying it was twirping - like the sound a bird makes. Only I knew that wasn't the right word that I was actually trying to think of and he finally said chirping? And I said oh yeah - that's the word I meant. I guess I was thinking of tweeting and chirping and it came out twirping.

I need a nap.