But there is not a goddamned thing on television. Man, I hate the nights when Roseanne isn't on! And at what point did the History Channel switch to the All-Nostradamus, All The Time channel? At least Nostradamus is nominally historical. I think 80% of their programming is 2012-related, or Siberian-fireball-UFO-related. I'm just waiting for "I Was Pregnant -- And Didn't Know I Had Morgellons Disease" to hit the airwaves.
Yes, I used a Wikipedia link. It's actually the least ridiculous source on the subject.
The other night I saw my most terrifying nightmares made into a show. Lo these many years y'all have laughed when I expressed my zero-at-the-bone terror of large freshwater fish brushing up against me -- and sure, maybe there aren't coelacanths to be found in Cheney Lake -- but look at this motherfucker. And this. They're really just fancy catfish, and I assure you, there are catfish aplenty in the good old U.S.A.
Fish are fucking creepy, is what I'm saying. Especially catfish. Because they eat dead people. And poop.
In other news, we have a loaner car while the embarrassing amount of body damage on our Civic is being repaired. It's a shiny black Sebring, and boy, do I feel ridiculous in it, but it's awfully nice to be able to reach the drive-through window and drive-up ATM without getting out of my car and climbing up on an overturned bucket. Also it has satellite radio, which in turn features an all-Chanukah station. Sophia is WAY into that, so in the car we hear about 20% "Dreidl, Dreidl, Dreidl," 20% that one Ladino song about dos candelikas et cetera, 20% "Sevivon, Sov Sov Sov," and a bunch of Woody Guthrie Chanukah songs, and no, I don't know the back story on that.
The remainder of the time is occupied by hilariously jazzy songs positing that Santa Claus is, in fact, a Jew, and under that hat he's got a yarmulke, and he drops down the chimney and heads straight for the knaidlach in the kitchen. I am not making this up. There is more than one song like this, and in fact there are more than three.
So those are the things occupying my mind when I'm not thinking about house-related things. Some of it is good, like oh my god I am finally going to get to PAINT things and I am going to paint our bedroom a really deep indigo. It is currently an absolutely hideous rose. The girls' bedroom is a pleasant pale pink, but the master, ecch. Pepto city. All I can think when I see those rooms is, "My colors are blush and bashful."
Some of it is about how we will never again ever have money for anything ever. Which is not entirely true, but it feels like it. We've been renting for...more than a decade. It's, you know, one of them paradigm shifts.
But I am ALL about the cheap home updates: homemade sandbox. Homemade amphibian habitat pond. Grape arbor. Chicken coop. Chalkboard paint for the kids. Weatherstripping! Caulk!
Laundry just steps from the bedrooms. Oh yeah.