The One... The Only... The Vieve

I'll tax the heat, I'll tax your feet

Ah, freelance work. So freeing! Glamorous! Lucrative!

Ha. Fucking expensive is what.

I was shocked at my tax bill, especially considering I made, oh, about $10K less than I did in 2006 and had massive deductions for health insurance, until someone reminded me that I don't have an employer to pay Social Security taxes for me. Oh, right. Well, fuck me, then.

I sent big checks yesterday, and still only paid about 1/3 of what I owe. Woo.

Nerdalicious

I am officially (even more of) a total nerd: I submitted an entry to the New Yorker cartoon caption contest. If they pick it as a finalist, I will ask you to vote vote vote (like a baby stoat). If they don't, I will be too embarrassed to tell you what it was, so no need to ask.

I have no words

I went to get coffee this morning, to the Sherm, and a man with a beautiful and sweet German Shepherd was in front of me. After I got my coffee, I went over to the bank, to get enough cash to buy the Sunday paper. (Which I have to admit, I buy only for the crossword puzzle. Which I managed to finish today.) As I got there, the same man was leaving the bank, and asked, "Are you following me or am I following you?" I laughed, and said, "I'm following the dog!" Which I thought was cute and funny, but thinking about it, maybe it was rude? Maybe he was flirting with me, or just being friendly, and I shut him down, this seemingly nice man with his lovely dog. I don't know, but I'm still thinking about it.

Still thinking about it, this fleeting thing, and I wonder if this is emblematic of why I get so stuck. I think and think: I don't ask, I don't tell, I don't act. I think and ruminate, and get stuck in a self-contained loop of memory and supposition. I want to stop thinking and start doing, but things get in the way. There are other things, but I think this might be fundamental. And I wonder why and wonder whether this is really a problem, or if I just make it one.

Think think think. I think I'm thinking about this too much.

Not worth $10

I saw The Golden Compass today, and while I love love love the books... well, see the title.

Two words: MORE BEARS.

Highlight reel

Oh lordy. It's been a while, I know. I was distracted and dry, and I needed a break. It happens to the best of us. But after three comments about my silence (it doesn't take much), I felt the pressure to break it. So, some highlights:

- I ate an olive I didn't hate. Of course, it was stuffed with Gorgonzola, so given my love of cheese... it's not a complete win for the olive. I still hate raisins, don't worry.

- I continue to party like a 22-year-old occasionally. Like this Friday, when I stayed up until about 9 am, refusing to pass out until after everyone left. Even after I gave the last-on DJ a thank-you hug goodbye, I still sat around the dining room table for a bit and talked gibberish and eventually got a ridiculous case of the giggles, punctuated by proclamations of, "Holy crap, I'm so goddamn tired...". I'm getting too old for this shit, I think. But it was fun.

- I have a new nickname: Jeeves. I don't know how I feel about this, but I'm fond of the giver, so I'll let it slide.

- Also, according to the same source, I'm like Six Degrees of Separation, because I apparently know a surprising amount of people in this town. Eh, I've just lived here for a long time, and I know a lot of people who know a LOT of people. (I'm also two degrees of Kevin Bacon, but that's another story.)

- I've been seeing the same person since May (a recent dating record for me), who calls me Cupcake. Very possibly the sweetest, most lovable person I've ever met.

- I started running again, more or less, on the treadmill at the gym, about three or four times per week. It hurts my shins, and I really need new shoes. And more sports bras. Gotta protect the bazoongas.

- I'm planning to learn how to knit soon. I'm excited to make a fantastically lumpy scarf, or possibly a mitten with two thumbs.

- I'm also planning to take more pictures soon, thanks to my fancy new digital SLR, once I figure out all the buttons.

- I'll be bringing said camera with me later this week on my trip to North Carolina to visit the Poops and Mr. Poops. They're having a party while I'm there, and I've promised (threatened?) to bring my hotpants for the inevitable Pants-Off Dance-Off.

- I've taken a liking to Malbec. Delicious.

- I'm still freelance editing, and recently edited a book on pressure ulcers. Which apparently you have to check for their "odor." Ew. Now I'm learning a lot about GIF compression. Yeah. It's a living, more or less.

I'm still me, my life is still borderline ridiculous, and I watch too much shitty TV. (Oh Bravo and VH1/MTV, how I love you.)

Gros bise, all y'all. Aaaaaand good night.

Waking sleep

I've been having a lot of dreams lately that involve trying to wake up. I know I'm sleeping, but I want to wake up, I need to wake up, and it's a monumental struggle. I can't move, but I try my damnedest. I free an arm, open one eye, try to pull up my head, try to speak, try to control my breathing. Sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating. Usually it's scary; sometimes I'm just annoyed. And sometimes I succeed in "waking up," like the last time this happened. After which I promptly rolled off my bed (in my dream, not in reality), and then lay there, sprawled on the floor, tailbone aching, wondering, "What the fuck did I do that for?"

It makes me wonder if this is symbolic in some way, or whether it's physiological. It's happened so often recently, though, that sometimes when I'm very obviously awake, I seriously wonder if I'm really dreaming. Which makes me feel a little psychotic.

Intro/Extro

Lately I wonder whether I'm an introvert or an extrovert. I've read lots about both, and grasp the basic principles, but I still can't figure it out. Sometimes I like to be alone, but often I'm angry about it, or feel guilty, or feel like my alone-ness relates more to crankiness and irritation than true desire. I like being with people, but sometimes find it difficult. I feel shy and nervous. I feel tired. I feel drained by others' needs and demands. I feel self-conscious and out of place, and unsure whether I really want time alone or just want to escape the intricacies and confusion of interaction.

I suppose it might be one of those things that's neither this or that, but sometimes one or the other. Which is muddled, and sometimes annoying, but often the most interesting things (and people) aren't so easily determined.

Sneaky zombie fruits

I usually try to avoid raisins, because I hate them and their wrinkled fruity brethen. However, I am making something special for someone, and it calls for raisins, so I went looking for them just now at the grocery store, possibly for the first time in my life. Consequently, I had no clue where they would be. Cereal aisle? Baking? I wandered up and down almost every aisle, cursing quietly. These evil, shriveled things are usually ubiquitous, but I couldn't find them for the life of me.

I finally caved and went to customer service and asked, and apparently they are in front of the deli case. Um, yeah. That makes no sense. But now I have a whole box of them, and they were a pain in the ass to get, and they did that on purpose just to spite me, and I hate them even more. And apparently have anthropomorphized them to a ridiculous degree, so I will say no more about their evil nature.

The things I do for lovers of desiccated grapes.

Wondering

I'm going to NY Decom this weekend, and I am really wondering what I'm going to wear. I have no tutus, no hotpants (though I can probably borrow a pair of SnooSnoo's, which is what I did for the Underwear Party a few weeks ago), nothing really that falls into the BurnerFab category. Hmm. I mean, I'm sure I'll figure it out, and it will be fine, but it makes me a feel a little anxious and uncool. I'm already a complete poseur anyway. Maybe I'll wear SnooSnoo's cape and paint a big "P" on my chest.

I'm also wondering if there is any better trend than kids' winter hats with ears on them. They are the cutest ever. And fruit and veggie hats come in a close second.

In other news...

It is freaking cold here, and my porch is unpleasant, and my feet are like icicles, and I hate it. Boo. Time for hibernation. And a hot shower.