twelve

I have an addictive personality. First it was Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, not the movie or the book, but the video game. It reached its apex when I began saying things like: "L-O-T-R-R-O-T-K is the best game ever. I've been battling the orcs in Harad, Théoden and his army are useless, but with Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli I can reclaim Middle Earth"

Then, it was Lost. I loved the show, I blogged about the show. I now hate the show. I don't like Jack, I think they should go Shannon on him. I've never liked Michael. Charlie's virgin Mary collection makes me angry and the only guy I like (Locke) is repressed by Jack's I'm-in-charge-and-I'm going-to-start-a-war persona. Do you hear that ABC? I am through with you! Wednesday nights will be mine again!
Onto my most recent addiction. I bought a .new game. This guy runs on walls, somersaults, flips, and hacks the evil sand guys. It's Aladdin on steroids.
Onto other news, the puppy is doing well. She's growing at a rapid rate. She's 6 months old and 70 pounds. I occasionally have trouble remembering that the giant, klutzy, blue streak in the house is still in her formative years.

I was blissfully passing the wee early morning yesterday as the 9FG got ready for work in the following fashion:

Me: [Sleeping peacefully, smiling slightly as I'm flying in my mind. There's thunder in the dream, or is it outside, my happy place feels violated]

Blue thunder: [Fresh from drinking out of the toilet throws herself on the bed and licks my face]

9FG: Do you have the dog?

Me: huh?

Blue thunder: [now begins chewing on my flesh, she likes fingers and bites to hard]

Me: Ouch, no BITE!

Blue thunder: [jumps down and leaves room]

Silence ensues. I love silence, especially when in bed. 9FG enters the room and sits on the side of the bed.

Me: Are you leaving for work?

9FG: You hurt the dog's feelings.

Me: huh?

9FG: She's very upset, you should apologize. She's just a puppy, she was playing with you

Me: CHEWING on a person shouldn't be FUN. I'm not apologizing.

9FG: Well, she's upset and sad. I'm going to work

Stupid dog.

Ka-boom

Christmas and New Years are treacherous. Not treacherous in the racing-down-a-icy-slope way but more of the teetering-on-the-edge-of-sanity way. I like the feeling. The 9FG and I had a lovely time visiting and being visited by family. I'm proud to report that sugar cookies, turkey, sausage gravy, soufflé, and quiche have expanded my belt by one notch. Gluttony isn't always sinful.
The Christmas tree promptly died on the 26th, leaving a lovely aroma of burnt coffee beans and pine sol wafting through the house. It smells like I cleaned the floor with a venti camel macchiato.
In other news, the dog has reached adolescence and we responded by having her spayed. Thanks Bob Barker without you she'd be running around like a New York ave hooker on pay day.

Some things I've been thinking about while trying to fall asleep:

Flying horses, particular them circling above my head. This one makes me happy.

Melting marshmallows and stuccoing them to the ceiling. This one fills me with angst.

Q-tips, particularly how they wrap the cotton around the toothpick. This one makes me nervous.

Processed food, how can something with a shelf-life of 10 years really be ok to eat in 2016? This one makes me feel organic.

Hippopotami or any group of animals where the plural doesn't end in a pesky "s". This one makes me feel dorky.

Hang gliding, or generally running and jumping off of any cliff and still flying. This one makes me happy too.

You'll note my obsession with things that are airborne. I can't really explain it, there is something lulling about soaring through sky, I'm getting drowsy just telling you about it.