ru: (angry)
Dear Female Pumpkin Flowers,

You all suck. Here I am, getting up earlier than the already ungodly hour I get up just so I can go outside in the near-dark with a q-tip (since I couldn't find my paintbrush, and I was too tired to care) in hand and pollinate you all, and you're not open. All the males are open, and there are a ton of them, oh yes, but you, YOU, you all are nowhere to be seen, and those of you that are out are still shut, despite looking ready to open. It is not cool to deprive me of precious minutes of sleep like this. Remember who waters you all in this scorching heat.

No love,

P.S. Y'all are lazy bitches.
ru: (Default)
I need to study. I really do. I've actually started the math review in my GRE prep book, and I think it's going pretty well, but I need to do more.

Wish I could dredge up more enthusiasm for it though. I've decided I'm going to study today, and I've set aside time and everything, but right now, I'm all, "Well, I *should* get up and get my GRE book, but Arnold's asleep on my lap, and you know, I'd just *hate* to move him and wake him up, so I think I'll just sit here."


Oh, on a different note, I dreamt last night that I somehow managed to get an advance copy of the last Harry Potter book. Maybe it was more a smuggled bootleg copy, but either way. It had a nondescript cover, but it did have that nifty-keen gold edging around the pages that I think is so spiffy. I didn't get around to reading it in the dream, but I do remember that it cost something like $110. I get the feeling that in reality, it'd cost a lot, lot more.
ru: (Default)
Well. It's official. The Scourge is back.

I was really hoping that some plague featuring possibly violet spots, erratic flying, and possibly also zombification had gotten to the Japanese beetles and killed them all before they could migrate back here, but no such luck. I knocked off a quartet of them that were having a foursome on the rosebush today. *shakes head* Here we go again.

On a different note, I was rather proud of myself today for accomplishing the stereotypically male task of opening the pickle jar. I did it without any help from rubber bands or from banging the back edge of a knife on the lid either--it was all me and my somewhat-pumped-from-lifting-pots hands. Check me out! I am teh macho!
ru: (Default)

I have this odd urge to do something, but I don't exactly know what it is. I think the desire to write is in there, but I dunno. I feel like my writing quality has deteriorated lately, so I'm a little reluctant to.

Well, I do know I need to water the Hoarde, so I can do that. And I can always fall back on furiously knitting my sweater. Still, it's irritating to have energy and not know in what direction to focus it. It's the formula for doing something DELETERIOUS OH NOES.

ETA: I have watered the Hoarde. It appears Fred has contracted a case of mushrooms. This reporter's reaction: "The Hell?!". Though it probably isn't to be completely unexpected, since Fred sits right near the (admittedly usually unutilized) front door. I'm considering hitting Fred's soil with fungicide to try and clear up the problem. More news at 5.
ru: (angry)
From the Files of Commercials That Make You Want to Put an Axe Through Your TV:

The Astelin commercial is driving me up the wall and and back again. If you haven't seen it, it features a barbershop-quartet-like group of guys 'serenading' some female allergy sufferer. I think Hell keeps the song on tap, because after the first few times, it becomes torture. The worst part is that it sticks with you, which makes it one step worse than the "Head On" commercials--I've discovered the song ambushing me at inopportune times, like when I'm trying to get to sleep, or waking up and trying to get to sleep again, and Not. Going. Away. If my allergies were severe enough to warrant a prescription, I'd make a point of avoiding Astelin if at all possible, on princple of excessive annoying commercial abuse.

Also, I don't see why the woman in the commercial is excited to see them. The first thing they do when they arrive is wave flowers and shit in her face, which only aggravates her allergies. If I were her, I'd drive them off with a broom.
ru: (Default)
Glasses update: After lots and lots of curmudgeoning, headaching, and resisting the urge to put a little diver with a treasure chest in my room, I gave in and went to the optometrist. My glasses are apparently sitting properly now, but I'm still a little fishbowly. I'm gonna let it ride for a couple days, just in case my weird perception is less a case of "Glasses COCKEYED" and more my brain going "OMGWTF what have you done *now*?" Actually, I think right now it's a case of the latter, as I'm starting to get used to them, which is a good thing.

Potatobob update: As I was watering plants today, I leaned over and got a whiff of something slightly rancid coming from Potatobob. I'm not quite sure what I was smelling, if it was just your average solanaceous plant smell (as they can be rather pungent), or if it's a sign that Potatobob is slowly turning to the Dark Side. I'm hoping it's the former, as I'd rather not have to get rid of Potatobob. As of right now, though, the smell isn't really bad, so I'm going to let it ride, and hope that it sorts itself out.

It's definitely growing, though. I think maybe this week I'll take pictures of Potatobob to show. <3 <3 <3
ru: (angry)
Since when did my astigmatism get so bad that my glasses traversed into the realm of finely calibrated ocular equipment? They got knocked askew today, and after four different people trying to fix it, they're back to sitting on my head right, but I still can't frickin' see out of them. Well, okay, that's not true--I can see out of them, but my perspective is so out of whack that I'm living in a perspective-induced headache fog. It feels like I'm looking through a fishbowl.

I'm not sure what it's going to take for me to see straight, whether it be more adjustment or getting used to where they're sitting now, but for now, hello headache, I see you'll be staying with me for a while. ._.

July 2017



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