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breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

This is the best soap in the world.

It's so eco-friendly that they encourage you to bury the packaging in a landfill or a garden, because there are plant seeds in the packaging. Which is nice--although bein' me, I start muttering about non-native species, but it's basil and amaranth, not sage or mint or something--but the real glory of the this soap is the smell.

It smells so awesome--spicy, not sweet or fruity, a preference of mine--that I find myself surripetitously sniffing myself during the day. This is the soap that smells how I wanna smell. It is sold nowhere around here any more--they sold out of this flavor at World Market and haven't ever re-ordered--and I was delirious with joy to find it on Amazon.

Three bars arrived today. Life is good.

Also, my gratitude for the two books that also arrived today! (I'm particularly excited about the book on rats.) Man, my friends and fans and readers are so damn awesome. I wish there was something I could do as thanks for all the nifty stuff y'all have gotten me this Christmas. The first holiday single is traditionally a rough one, but y'all have helped immensely.

And now, back to the art...

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

ARRRGH! WARM! MUST CLEAN!

Today I tackled the fridge. It didn't take long. Everyone who looks in my fridge utters pretty much the same phrase--"Wow. Bachelor fridge." It's gotten a lot worse--my reduced appetite means that cooking anything elaborate for myself is futile, I'm not even cooking for one anymore, I'm cooking for about one-half. Basically I live on frozen stir-fry from Trader Joes and leftovers from eating out. One order of takeout Chinese will last me for days. (Oddly enough, this means that the quality of my food has actually increased significantly--I eat out with friends often enough, and they have good enough taste that my leftovers are pretty high quality. The artichoke stromboli with pine nuts was particularly divine, and about the size of my thigh, and the duck and brie pizza was a thing of beauty.)

Still, it hit something of a low point t'other week.  "You have bacon and cat food," a friend observed, staring into the refrigerated wasteland.

"That covers the major food groups," I said defensively. "My food and his food."

(Besides, that was totally an exaggeration. I also had bottled water and shredded parmesan. Pff!)

So obviously cleaning out the fridge takes about thirty seconds. I settled for reorganizing the racks so that the bottled water would sit evenly on the floor of the fridge. I gazed into the fridge, briefly considered alphabetizing it, decided that might be going too far, and closed the door.

To appease the cleaning demon, I also dispatched several dying houseplants. I have come to terms with the fact that my apartment, in the deep shadow of the building, is simply too lacking in natural light to keep house plants healthy. Even the invincible ivy wilted and dried. (Okay, yeah, maybe I forgot to water it too...)

I'm thinking of getting a small fish tank instead. Three, four gallons, something small enough that I can move it around, nothing that requires a complicated ecosystem. Petsmart has dwarf puffer fish, which thrive in small spaces, or perhaps a single interesting cichlid. Something to get LIFE in here. I may not quite believe in feng shui, but I do agree that living things help. (And I'm much better about feeding fish than watering plants.) No bettas, though. They're gorgeous, and I have no damn luck with them at all...

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

I beat Resident Evil 4!

*insert dance with "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Who's your mommy?" here*

The last boss was a cakewalk. "If I poke him, an eyeball comes out. Hmm. Wonder what happens when I put a rocket in the eyeball? Ooooh! NEAT!"

Unfortunately, as a last little caveat, they included a harrowing jet ski driving portion to get you away from the exploding island.

I am a very, very, VERY bad driver. At least in games. I'm...well, tolerable...in the real car, but I can't drive for shit in games. Carmageddon is the only driving game I ever loved, for obvious reasons. I can master the art of the zombie headshot, but steer a vehicle? Fergeddaboutit!

Which is why I killed the endboss without taking more than a paltry sum of damage, and then died twenty-three times in a row in the thirty-second endgame.

But eventually I won, by stint of memorizing the entire bloody course and muttering "Left...left...right right accelerate left right left--!" under my breath.

I feel a warm glow of victory.