04.17.08 03.13
I'm at Cloei's!!! In, like, Seattle, WA!! *grin*
I'm BEYOND exhausted (it's 3:14am, but it feels like 6:14am to me...and I traveled from 10:30am EDT to 7:15pm PDT), but we're having a good time. I'm installing my Zune on one of her computers now so it can recharge & so I can download some of her music. :) She's coding on one of the other computers. I'm introducing her to the band Betty Blowtorch. heh heh heh.
Okies, Zune software's done downloading...I'm outtie for now. *grin*
~Kay
mood:  giddy
music: betty blowtorch - shut up & fuck
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
03.30.08 07.56
K
ein goin to seattle to visit cloei!!
I hate flying, especially for that long...I have an almost 2 hour layover in Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, but the only person I know there is/was anavoog, and it's not like we're close friends or anything, heh heh heh. I bet by the time I get outside, smoke a cigarette, go back through security, the time will fly by. *snicker* still, I think it's 4 hours in the air from there to seattle...4 hours isn't too bad...I can always have the doc kick me 2 Valium, one there and one back, if I think I really need it.
I leave in, like, two weeks!!
ein so excited, but so freaked out!!!
*grin*
~K
mood:  cheerful
speak the fuck up
03.24.08 10.21
...::: old handwritten journal entry :::...
I may have posted this before - it's the only journal entry in a notebook I used to carry around all the time.
Saturday, March 18th 2006
my misery manifests itself in so many obvious ways that i generally try to ignore, lest - of course - i realize just how fucking depressed & unhappy i really am. but...as i sit in my front room, brushing my hair (which i haven't done in about 2 weeks; in fact, i haven't even taken it out of it's ponytail for at least a week), dancing like a maniac stripper (instead of sitting vacantly & immobile in my blue chair), blasting Prince on the stereo (instead of staring mutely @ the television), i realize i've missed this about myself.
I've watched teevee at least 10 hours a day for the last year! I almost never turn on my stereo! I wear the same clothes for days! I'll go for two or even three weeks without showering!
who in godsfuck *IS* this person?!?!?!?!
I'm being given the way out. & just the suggestion of it has lifted my spirts so much that i know i HAVE to do something - if not take the chance offered, then to make one of my own.
I'm tired of the status quo. I'm irritated with not caring that i eat a pint of ice cream every night & that i've gained 20lbs.
it's the dawn of a new era, motherfucker.
okay. so it took me 2 more years to actually *DO* something, but I did it.
finally.
something that I noticed is that some time ago, I started capitalizing "I" again...it was hard to type this out, because I had to keep going back to lowercase the "I"s in the entry...because I think my placement of referring to myself with lowercase "I"s and uppercase "I"s is interesting and says something.
I think when I started giving a damn again, it went uppercase. not that that's not obvious or anything, but there you are.
I have no interest in teevee anymore - just a couple of shows, and they're usually background to me being on the computer or reading a book - I'm sitting there to be social with the boys, not because I have any real interest in what's on. I no longer feel the need to escape so totally.
I'm pretty content. yeah, it's rocky and fucked up and weird as we figure out where we belong, but I'm still generally content. there's only two things I would change about my life now, one being my pain, and two...well, that's personal, though some people know what I'm talking about, and others with experience can probably figure it out. anyway, #2 I'd also get rid of.
~K
mood: content
music: black light burns - stop a bullet
speak the fuck up
03.24.08 09.34
You will see
That there's a blood clot in my heart
I'm trying to make time to push it out
But I can't quite seem to start
And it is sore
It is sore
It's so sore that it hurts to feed
You keep on taking little pieces of me,
I'm going to show you how to bleed
Get away and save yourself
Turn away and don't look back
Get away and save yourself
Grey skies are turning black
'cause I will always
Hurt everyone I love
If I were you,
I'd run away 'cause it's true
That I will always
Hurt everyone I love
I'm aching for you
But you're bound to bleed if I adore you
I think I'll keep you
In a place where I can see you
But I know I'll break you like before
And I just can't do this anymore
music: black light burns - coward
speak the fuck up
03.22.08 12.06
it is not fair to constantly test someone.
it's NOT.
mood:  sad
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
03.16.08 04.05
I had a tooth pulled yesterday. :*( I woke up at 6:30am, everything's fine. go back to sleep until 9am, wake up to searing pain - I clench my teeth _REALLY_ bad in my sleep (well, I do it almost all the time, but especially when I'm sleeping) and apparently one of my teeth cracked in half. OW!! went to dentist, flipped out at usual, sent me home with antibiotics, percocets that I can't get filled (long story) and some Valium & told me to come back monday. stepped out the door to snow and frigid cold, the tooth pain nearly killed me, asked if I could get the Valium, take one, then try again today. they said sure, and it actually worked. normally, benzos just put me to sleep and I can't possibly see the recreational value in them...but using them on ACTUAL anxiety, I finally see their benefit. before, I was flipping out and crying and the fucking dentist hadn't even touched me...after the Valium, I was able to take deep breaths while they shot me full of novocaine and get through it - I even started to fall asleep while I was waiting for it to kick in! getting the tooth pulled still sucked, and I still cried a bit, but nothing even CLOSE to what would normally happen. So, now I know I can get my fucking teeth fixed - after 10+ years of dealing with tooth pain, it's about time!
~Kay
mood: calm
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
06.19.07 02.18
You wouldn't BELIEVE the shit I've gone through in the last month to get my stupid fucking passport. *growl*
However, I have a shiny new ID card, with my married (well, hyphenated, at least) name on it (only 7 years after the fact!), as well as a spankin' cute passport with accompanying spankin' cute photo (the ID pic is only so-so).
So now I can go to Canada. WELL, I could always go to Canada, I suppose - now I can get back into the United States. *snicker* Not that I'd mind living in P.E.I. forever, but I think Luckee would miss me, don't you? ;)
*contented sigh*
That's taken care of, and now no one can ever again bitch about my fucking ID. My old one is almost 10 years old, and was apparently procured during the small window of time when they didn't put expiration dates on the cards. Fuckers.
Now I can get fruity, stupid girlie drinks ANYWHERE I WANT! MUWAHAHAHA! heh.
~Kissy
mood: cheerful
music: nin_-_the_hand_that_feeds_-_with_teeth
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
06.17.07 02.27
what the fuck kind of result is this???!!?
Your Score: Sick and Wrong You are 4% pure!
daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn. unfair. some of those questions have NOTHING to do with sex, per se (like piercings).
*grump*
~Kissy
mood: bemused
music: nin - the_line_begins_to_blur_-_with_teeth
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
02.28.07 12.46
Best spam subject this week:
And millionaire of inept
Runner up:
My pop the sagebrush
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
02.04.07 10.35
... a poem ...
Below is a poem, written by 3 months of spam subjects in my inbox. Enjoy! ;)
My is executrix
by nylon of quinine
As esprit on reredos
Which tunnel do compete
lightface?
He ernst is magnesite
Not catalyst
Or midband the provoke
Go land
Cars Hub Ask
is divers
But go prep
a integrate
I as scanty
emonkey
He as shantung
Or midband the provoke
Have be chinless
As as state
Be urgency no wel
I the captive
That scale no rule
on on pizza
modesty reliant
Of no prof
Go excuse my expert
his watchmen so weston
so is yahoo
on serape is corrode
As delve or tweak
Go of casual
timagine
Not do corundum
Of retribution on nonsensic
so so archives
He erotic
I as semi
He vicksburg an vacillate
No or open
he golf
Is kirk
VlkAGRA
And it tour
Are as cavilling
For at historian
by vocational
A an willing
To conflict the wafer
Have monologist so westfield
In or species
pooh marshmallow businessman?
My peenis is always hard and is able to move without interruption!
On of bullet
eohippus battleground leninist
do semantics
do pharmacy
timing couldnt be better to build a position
For in quatrain
Which is verbiage
And fields it fiduciary
the accordance
no grove
quiescent scintillate stormbound
Be prescribe or gambit
egeometric
chronic other unwanted effects if too much is taken
In the US, these at measured
frau leatherback tamarind
At rutherford at watershed
My wash
so to bask
Not waste an calumet
Or at distant
do parliament
Not by waste
As do erasmus
Are be finder
In legerdemain an thor
He is endorse
her mere
~Kissy
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
02.04.07 09.58
yeah yeah
found this in my email; I think it would work in all close relationships, not just marriages.
**********
MODERN LOVE
What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage
By AMY SUTHERLAND
AS I wash dishes at the kitchen sink, my husband paces behind me,
irritated. "Have you seen my keys?" he snarls, then huffs out a loud sigh and
stomps from the room with our dog, Dixie, at his heels, anxious over her
favorite human's upset.
In the past I would have been right behind Dixie. I would have turned off
the faucet and joined the hunt while trying to soothe my husband with
bromides like, "Don't worry, they'll turn up." But that only made him angrier,
and a simple case of missing keys soon would become a full-blown
angst-ridden drama starring the two of us and our poor nervous dog.
Now, I focus on the wet dish in my hands. I don't turn around. I don't say
a word. I'm using a technique I learned from a dolphin trainer.
I love my husband. He's well read, adventurous and does a hysterical
rendition of a northern Vermont accent that still cracks me up after 12 years
of marriage.
But he also tends to be forgetful, and is often tardy and mercurial. He
hovers around me in the kitchen asking if I read this or that piece in The
New Yorker when I'm trying to concentrate on the simmering pans. He leaves
wadded tissues in his wake. He suffers from serious bouts of spousal
deafness but never fails to hear me when I mutter to myself on the other side
of the house. "What did you say?" he'll shout.
These minor annoyances are not the stuff of separation and divorce, but in
sum they began to dull my love for Scott. I wanted — needed — to nudge him
a little closer to perfect, to make him into a mate who might annoy me a
little less, who wouldn't keep me waiting at restaurants, a mate who would
be easier to love.
So, like many wives before me, I ignored a library of advice books and set
about improving him. By nagging, of course, which only made his behavior
worse: he'd drive faster instead of slower; shave less frequently, not
more; and leave his reeking bike garb on the bedroom floor longer than ever.
We went to a counselor to smooth the edges off our marriage. She didn't
understand what we were doing there and complimented us repeatedly on how
well we communicated. I gave up. I guessed she was right — our union was
better than most — and resigned myself to stretches of slow-boil resentment
and occasional sarcasm.
Then something magical happened. For a book I was writing about a school
for exotic animal trainers, I started commuting from Maine to California,
where I spent my days watching students do the seemingly impossible:
teaching hyenas to pirouette on command, cougars to offer their paws for a nail
clipping, and baboons to skateboard.
I listened, rapt, as professional trainers explained how they taught
dolphins to flip and elephants to paint. Eventually it hit me that the same
techniques might work on that stubborn but lovable species, the American
husband.
The central lesson I learned from exotic animal trainers is that I should
reward behavior I like and ignore behavior I don't. After all, you don't
get a sea lion to balance a ball on the end of its nose by nagging. The
same goes for the American husband.
Back in Maine, I began thanking Scott if he threw one dirty shirt into the
hamper. If he threw in two, I'd kiss him. Meanwhile, I would step over any
soiled clothes on the floor without one sharp word, though I did sometimes
kick them under the bed. But as he basked in my appreciation, the piles
became smaller.
I was using what trainers call "approximations," rewarding the small steps
toward learning a whole new behavior. You can't expect a baboon to learn
to flip on command in one session, just as you can't expect an American
husband to begin regularly picking up his dirty socks by praising him once
for picking up a single sock. With the baboon you first reward a hop, then a
bigger hop, then an even bigger hop. With Scott the husband, I began to
praise every small act every time: if he drove just a mile an hour slower,
tossed one pair of shorts into the hamper, or was on time for anything.
I also began to analyze my husband the way a trainer considers an exotic
animal. Enlightened trainers learn all they can about a species, from
anatomy to social structure, to understand how it thinks, what it likes and
dislikes, what comes easily to it and what doesn't. For example, an elephant
is a herd animal, so it responds to hierarchy. It cannot jump, but can
stand on its head. It is a vegetarian.
The exotic animal known as Scott is a loner, but an alpha male. So
hierarchy matters, but being in a group doesn't so much. He has the balance of a
gymnast, but moves slowly, especially when getting dressed. Skiing comes
naturally, but being on time does not. He's an omnivore, and what a trainer
would call food-driven.
Once I started thinking this way, I couldn't stop. At the school in
California, I'd be scribbling notes on how to walk an emu or have a wolf accept
you as a pack member, but I'd be thinking, "I can't wait to try this on
Scott."
On a field trip with the students, I listened to a professional trainer
describe how he had taught African crested cranes to stop landing on his
head and shoulders. He did this by training the leggy birds to land on mats
on the ground. This, he explained, is what is called an "incompatible
behavior," a simple but brilliant concept.
Rather than teach the cranes to stop landing on him, the trainer taught
the birds something else, a behavior that would make the undesirable
behavior impossible. The birds couldn't alight on the mats and his head
simultaneously.
At home, I came up with incompatible behaviors for Scott to keep him from
crowding me while I cooked. To lure him away from the stove, I piled up
parsley for him to chop or cheese for him to grate at the other end of the
kitchen island. Or I'd set out a bowl of chips and salsa across the room.
Soon I'd done it: no more Scott hovering around me while I cooked.
I followed the students to SeaWorld San Diego, where a dolphin trainer
introduced me to least reinforcing syndrome (L. R. S.). When a dolphin does
something wrong, the trainer doesn't respond in any way. He stands still
for a few beats, careful not to look at the dolphin, and then returns to
work. The idea is that any response, positive or negative, fuels a behavior.
If a behavior provokes no response, it typically dies away.
In the margins of my notes I wrote, "Try on Scott!"
It was only a matter of time before he was again tearing around the house
searching for his keys, at which point I said nothing and kept at what I
was doing. It took a lot of discipline to maintain my calm, but results
were immediate and stunning. His temper fell far shy of its usual pitch and
then waned like a fast-moving storm. I felt as if I should throw him a
mackerel.
Now he's at it again; I hear him banging a closet door shut, rustling
through papers on a chest in the front hall and thumping upstairs. At the
sink, I hold steady. Then, sure enough, all goes quiet. A moment later, he
walks into the kitchen, keys in hand, and says calmly, "Found them."
Without turning, I call out, "Great, see you later." Off he goes with our
much-calmed pup.
After two years of exotic animal training, my marriage is far smoother, my
husband much easier to love. I used to take his faults personally; his
dirty clothes on the floor were an affront, a symbol of how he didn't care
enough about me. But thinking of my husband as an exotic species gave me the
distance I needed to consider our differences more objectively.
I adopted the trainers' motto: "It's never the animal's fault." When my
training attempts failed, I didn't blame Scott. Rather, I brainstormed new
strategies, thought up more incompatible behaviors and used smaller
approximations. I dissected my own behavior, considered how my actions might
inadvertently fuel his. I also accepted that some behaviors were too
entrenched, too instinctive to train away. You can't stop a badger from digging,
and you can't stop my husband from losing his wallet and keys.
PROFESSIONALS talk of animals that understand training so well they
eventually use it back on the trainer. My animal did the same. When the training
techniques worked so beautifully, I couldn't resist telling my husband
what I was up to. He wasn't offended, just amused. As I explained the
techniques and terminology, he soaked it up. Far more than I realized.
Last fall, firmly in middle age, I learned that I needed braces. They were
not only humiliating, but also excruciating. For weeks my gums, teeth, jaw
and sinuses throbbed. I complained frequently and loudly. Scott assured me
that I would become used to all the metal in my mouth. I did not.
One morning, as I launched into yet another tirade about how uncomfortable
I was, Scott just looked at me blankly. He didn't say a word or
acknowledge my rant in any way, not even with a nod.
I quickly ran out of steam and started to walk away. Then I realized what
was happening, and I turned and asked, "Are you giving me an L. R. S.?"
Silence. "You are, aren't you?"
He finally smiled, but his L. R. S. has already done the trick. He'd begun
to train me, the American wife.
Amy Sutherland is the author of "Kicked, Bitten and Scratched: Life and
Lessons at the Premier School for Exotic Animal Trainers" (Viking, June
2006). She lives in Boston and in Portland, Me
**********
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
11.21.06 04.13
I really fucking hate myspace.
I hate even more that so many fucking people use it, meaning *I* have to use it when looking for people.
I would have no problem never going on myspace. The fact that I had to sign up for an account to properly search pisses me off (if you manage to find me, I probably won't add you because I don't use the fucking account, so don't take it personally).
It's so slow on my computer. Add to that all the fucking morons who add 50 pic photobucket slideshows and music videos and blinky blink images of their tits, and I have to reboot about every 6 page views.
Fuckers.
~Kissy
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
11.01.06 10.15
So, Luckee recalls that, prior to cable television being available in his area, you could get some kind of set-top box to "rent" movies - he's unable to recall if it was a pay-per-view thing or a monthly billing thing. Ooh, he just said he thinks it was called "Preview".
Anyone know what this system/company might be? It pre-dates Cablevision arriving in his town; I grew up in Boston, which, as the biggest city in Massachusetts, obviously got cable pretty early on...add in the facts 1) I'm a number of years younger than him and 2) we were too poor to get cable teevee when it was first available (though I recall having it installed a number of times during my childhood for a few months at a time), I'm too young & urban to recall this system he remembers.
After a certain time (10pm? Midnight?), this Preview system showed hardcore porn, which he got to watch when he stayed at a friend's house. While I remember skipping school and going to a boyfriend's house and watching the scrambled Spice channel - if you put it to channel 2 you could hear it perfectly and if you put it on channel 4 you could kind of see the picture. Getting the dial halfway between channels 3 and 4 got you the best picture (still not totally clear, though) and a good portion of the audio. Heh, those tricks aren't possible anymore...even if you could find a television with a dial. *snicker*
~Kissy
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
11.01.06 04.35
Ah, so another year has past.
And just how did I spend my..um...*cougheighteenthcough* birthday? Why, the same way I did last year, of course - TRICK OR TREATING!
*duh*
I got one pissed off look from a guy (but he still gave me candy), and a confused look from a few women - they complemented me on my make-up1 and then didn't know what to make of me once they got to look at said make-up (and thus my face) close up. Heh heh heh.
But I had fun. We walked around for about an hour, getting candy from adults and giving out candy to costumed children. My mom used to do that - since she wasn't at home to give out candy ('cause she was taking us around door-to-door), she'd take her candy bowl with her and give the treats to the neighborhood kids as we ran into them. I liked that, so I've started doing it - we don't get many trick-or-treaters in our neighborhood anyway, plus I wouldn't make them climb all those stairs. ;) This year I called it "Backwards Trick-or-Treat!" as I held out the bag to the kids; one boy was so sweet and took some candy, then went to give me some of his. Aww! On the other hand, that could be a cool trend to start - get rid of the stuff you don't like before you even get home, instead of waiting to trade it off the next day in school. Heh heh heh.
So, the big birthday present the cosmos decided to bestow upon me was...my RF INJECTION!!! W00T! I've only been trying to make this fucking appointment for a YEAR! (various insurance fuckups prevented me from getting my shot until this morning) It would have been nice if TPTB had deemed fit to give me the injection the day BEFORE my birthday, instead of after - I was actually in the mood to go out last night, I had images of me at the bar in downtown (Salem), sitting my the window, drinking foofy girlie fruity drinks as I watched the drunken revelers on the streets below. Alas, it was not meant to be, as not only could I not have alcohol prior to the injection, I had to get up at the asscrack of dawn (6am) to take the bus to my (8:30am) appointment. *sigh*
I feel fucking fantastic, aside from my tailbone (which is the site of the radio frequency & burning/electrifying/lidocaine-ing thingy they do to me) being sore - that will subside in a few days. I hope this one gives me relief for at least as long as the last one - I got 9 months of damn good relief, then 3 more months of "okay"...then I spent the next 8-11 months trying to schedule another shot. *growl* This last summer sucked so much ass for me. My most recent period (just finished yesterday) was excruciating (sp?) - every morning I was unable to move for almost an hour due to cramping, plus all the other pain. Blah.
With luck, all that's over with, at least for a while. I heard my doctor telling the, um, resident? attending? whichever kind of doctor she was, he was telling her that his other endo patient (he has 2, obviously) got this new kind of injection (the same kind I got last time & this time) and hasn't come back since; it's given her total relief. Now, I don't know if she's not going back for the injections but is still on her medication(s), or if she hasn't gone back at ALL, but either way's good for me.
I'm going to talk about playing around with my meds again; I think I want to move back down to the percocet for my breakthrough pain, and readd one of the anti-depressants...I have more research to do.
My energy's a bit up, so I'm gonna try to take advantage of that and make some chili for dinner and maybe clean the bathroom a bit. *grin*
Thanks to everyone who sent me birthday wishes!!! I really appreciate it!!! *grin* It makes me all warm & fuzzy inside when people remember my birthday. *giggle*
Hasta la Pasta, bay-bee!
~Kissy
1: updated 5:23pm - I resized the images, geocities only lets me have 4.5mb/hour for traffic, so if you can't get to the page, that's why - Cloei keeps forgetting to give me (and I keep forgetting to ask her) an FTP login for occassional things like this. *ROFLMAO*
mood: chipper
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
10.17.06 12.42
Ugh, the pain in my belly has been god-awful recently.
I can't *WAIT* to get my RF injection (b-day pressie! *rolls eyes*). Even if I only get, say, 20% relief (and since my doc has figured out a new technique, I should get considerably more than 20%!), it HAS to be better than this!
Any time I'm not babysitting (which is down to 2 days a week insted of 3, and my shifts are half as long as they used to be), I'm home, sitting in my chair, staring blankly at the television screen, willing my body to go to sleep as *some* form of escape.
I'm sleeping a lot lately.
UGH. So tired of hurting so much!!!!
~Kissy
ps. I have a gyn appt this week, and the shot appt is in less than 2 weeks, so it *will* be taken care of - I just have to wait. *sigh*
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
10.02.06 05.20
...::: *sniffle* :::...
Always sad when ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) cloeigrrl goes home. :'(
But I'll see her again soon!!
It sucks that I can't just take the train over there, or that she can't just drive here on a whim. After all these years, I'm *STILL* not used to that. :'(
Soon. Soon.
Soon.
:)
~Kissy
ps. For those who may have wondered, codemonster is very nice. I approve. *giggle*
mood: gloomy
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
09.26.06 08.38
...::: neat-o-rooni :::...
In (yet more) searching for info on my tomato issue (see previous entry), I came across this:
"...the only country in the world to have a nearly 100% organic agriculture system is - CUBA. Like every other third world country I have knowledge of, Cuba used most of its best agricultural lands to grow crops for export to make money, not to grow nutritious food to feed its people. In Cuba's case this was mostly the chemically intensive production of sugar cane which was sold to Europe and the Soviets at above market prices. When the Soviet Union and Eastern European governments collapsed in 1990 Cuba was left without foreign aid or foreign markets for its agricultural products. Quite suddenly the market disappeared and aid dried up. Agricultural production dropped by over 30% in 1990.
Much to their credit, Cuban agricultural planners were fast on their feet and quickly adopted a "revolutionary" change in their system. With hunger a fact of life now, they inventoried their resources; with no money for fuel, pesticides, or chemical fertilizers, draft animals were bred to do the work of tractors, insectories were started to produce beneficial insects, and industrial sized compost and worm farms were built to replace chemical fertilizers. Cuban biological science is world class and they continue to pioneer advances in non-chemical agriculture. The whole population, especially in the cities, began garden projects and rules against individuals selling food were relaxed. In four years agricultural production had risen to pre-1990 levels, with a very notable difference; virtually no chemicals were used! Though there are some small areas where hunger persists, Cuba is the only country in the world feeding its population in a sustainable manner..."
(there's nothing else at that page regarding this; it came from a newsletter put out by *I think* a school's gardening program. I have no other cite for this, but I haven't gone looking either)
So, if that's all true, that's way fucking cool. *grin* I would love to create a beautiful, organic garden that would provide us with all the veggies (& some fruits, if I can swing it) we need throughout the summer. Although...truthfully, I would rather grow all kinds of fruits - but I'd need a buch bigger yard for an orchard! *giggle* I'm working on the compost bin, so it will be ready to mix in next season, and I'm researching what veggies will grow well here and what plants I'll need to plant along with them to help control pests.
My backyard isn't large by ANY stretch of the imagination, but it's amazing to live in the city and even HAVE a backyard...and since NO ONE uses mine except the weeds, I have use of the entire (admittedly small) space. *grin*
~Kissy
mood: chipper
what did you say? ||| speak the fuck up
09.26.06 06.49
...::: ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHH!!:::...
More tomato issues. *LOL*
Actually, I haven't had any "issues" with my tomatoes so far; just sheer amazement that they've survived from such a humble beginning and painful, er, childhood? I guess. *giggle*
However, having said that, I think they might have a bit of a problem. The leaves have some pale-ish, yellow-ish/grey-ish spots, one of leaves currently in front of me seems to have a grey, kinda crunchy, ash-like center...or it would be the center of the larger, yellow-ish spot, if it wasn't on the edge of the leaf; closer inspection reveals another ashy center of a yellow splotch.
After doing a bit of Googling (which, as has been established, I'm not very good at - though as an aside, my real name(s) do NOT show up in Google, nor do any variation on my mother's name. Or my brother's name, which I just looked up. Neat. Oh, I get results on a few variations, but none of them refer to any of us. Heh heh heh. No wonder it was so damn hard for a friend from my past to find me. *waves in case said person ever checks this* Hiya! Sorry about that! *giggle* ANYWAY...back to the matter at hand...), I found a few places with descriptions and images of various tomato diseases, and I have it narrowed down to these:
Early Blight: quite possible, as the weather has been jumping between hot & humid and cool & humid & rainy lately, (and I just started noticing this recently) so it's often been pretty damp.
Leaf Mold: again, the weather seems to be right for this disease, and some of the stalks *have* gone yellowish and fallen off with the slightest touch. However, I really noticed this on the plant I moved after it had established itself and it looked like it wilted. So, I'm not exactly sure.
Grey Leaf Spot: kinda, but not really. however, conditions seem right for it.
Powdery Mildew": this seems to be the most likely culprit; my affected leaves most closely resemble those in the picture for Powdery Mildew. :"(
The fruits look just fine, though they are still green. The plum tomatoes are getting bigger by the hour, I swear! *L* The cherry tomatoes are still doing fine as well, except for the leaf stuff.
So, all those pages have recommendations on what to do to treat the leaves...however, none of them say what happens to the FRUIT. If I do nothing, will I just have a reduced yield? Will the fruits make me sick if I eat them? Some of the pages for other problems mention damage to the fruits, since these ones don't, would you assume they'll be okay?
Also, any ideas if you can cut off some stalks so the plant can/will concentrate on sending the resources to the fruiting stalks? I trimmed one of the plants that isn't so productive anyway, so if it was really bad for it I haven't lost much anyway...but some of them have lots of green stalks with no flowers & my tomato bed isn't very large (I honestly didn't expect them to grow so well, or I would have put them in a much larger area!), so I want to give them all the help I can without resorting to chemicals. Hrm.
Alas, it's garbage day, so I must clean out the fridge and get the refuse on the curb. *sigh*
Later, gators. *grin*
~Kissy
mood:  productive
music: monkey listening to vh1 classic (some 80s show)
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09.19.06 12.14
I'm going to the beach.
The air temperature is about 80 degrees, the water temperature is about 65 degrees, the wind is minimal.
Dammit, I *WILL* enjoy more time in the water before fall temperatures come!
I'm having a hard time convincing the Monkey that this is usually the *BEST* time of year for ocean swimming, as the water has *finally* warmed up. Heh heh heh.
However, when we walked on the beach yesterday, the sand (it was low tide) was green. :/ Where'd all this algae come from? We're not in a red tide anymore. Hrphm. Well, it didn't smell bad or anything. And I've even gone swimming when we had "high bacteria levels" ('cause 1) they didn't put up signs until THREE DAYS LATER and 2) I wouldn't care anyway - can't boost the immune system if I hide in a cave, ya know?). I'm sure I'll be fine. *LOL*
I'm pleased to note that as I get older, the people I find attractive also get older. For a while, I was worried that I'd always find 16 year old girls attractive and that I was some kind of pedophile. Actually, there's another term for that; iirc pedophile is someone who likes pre-pubesent boys/girls and the other term is for those who like, um, pubesent boys/girls. Anyway, while I still find females in their late teens/early twenties attractive, I now also find older women attractive and can picture myself in sexual situations with them...sometimes even MUCH older women. I was watching a show about female swingers and found this 50+ year old woman VERY hot. So I'm not a weirdo freak (at least in that respect). Although I still see the beauty in a recently-developed woman, I also see it in a, uh, more ripe female. This makes me happy.
I've always found older men attractive, in a dirty, dirty, dirty, "I've been a bad little girl" kind of way - my unnerving crush on David Dickenson proves that. *blush* Fantasies including young men (16-20 years old, I guess?) come into play more the older I get, but I suspect that's a control/teacher issue and have an even bigger suspicion that the reality would NOT live up to the fantasy (does it ever?), so I'm more than happy to leave that in my mind. ;) Er, not that I'm having sex with ANYONE right now, let alone some harem of various ages and genders.
Which leads me into my current aggravation with my doctors. I had some insurance issues, but got those mostly settled. However, MassHealth sent me some letter, 2 of which I guess got sent back to them, 2 of which reached me. I showed up for one of my injections (taking the T from the North Shore to arrive in Boston at 7:30AM) to discover that they put some hold on my account because of the letters. My appointment was at 8:20am; MassHealth doesn't answer the phones until 9am. After many tears, I finally got it fixed, but I was unable to keep that appointment. For the next 2 or 3 MONTHS, I try to get a hold of the woman who makes the injection appointments - leaving messages, leaving the paperwork for her to call me, nothing gives (it's a process, I can't just call and make an appointment for it). The woman who USED to do it ALWAYS got in touch with you within 6 weeks, usually just 2 weeks, though. FINALLY, last month I just SAT in the office for an extra HOUR for this bitch to stop blabbing to her friends to make my appointment. She comes back out and says, "I'm sorry, he's all booked up until November, and I don't have November's schedule available yet. But I'll be sure to call you as soon as I do, and if we get a cancellation!"
I've now been waiting 9 months for this fucking shot. Now it looks like I *might* get it before the holidays...MAYBE. I was DUE for this shot in JANUARY. The insurance problems have been fixed since APRIL. My medications no longer work as well, I'm going through Dilaudid like fucking Tic-Tacs. This summer SUCKED SHIT. Last summer was soooooo great - the shot worked really well - I was practically boogie boarding every day, for goodness sake. This summer, I sat in the house and watched the kids from the window, the poor things. *sigh*
I get so tired of hurting.
The plum tomatoes are growing so fast! The cherry tomatoes are about full size; they just need to start turning colors! I can't wait to have a bramble of berries in my back yard next summer; blackberries and raspberries mostly. :) Another spot I'll devote to tomatoes and basil, and the middle of the yard (it's a tiny yard) I'm hoping to do summer and winter squashes. With a bit of luck, I might be able to grow some cantalope (just a few) where the tomatoes currently are. I'm also hoping that my landlord will allow me to grow herbs in the parking lot - it's surrounded by a raised bed that has a few shrubs and some random green plants and mulch. I think basil and sage and rosemary would look just as pretty, smell a hella lot better (not that the ones there smell bad, but they don't smell like anything) and everyone can even clip some to bring home and have fresh herbs every night! I don't mind donating the fruits of my labor in return for the space to labor in, you know? *grin*
So, I'm going to go get a coffee and go down to the beach. :)
~Kissy
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09.17.06 01.43
Does anyone remember movies or teevee shows that use the "image burned into the retina" myth? I think I remember watching something where a guy was about to get knocked off by someone and his friend/dad? comes up and says something like you better not, because they'll catch you because your image will be burned onto his retinas? Something like that. Anyway, I've been looking for more info on that myth, places it's been used, etc and I'm not having good luck. I read (in Uncle John's Absolutely Absorbing Bathroom Reader *blush* I like books like that, with lots of facts & trivia and such. I also own Everything You Pretend to Know And Are Afraid Someone Will Ask, Why Do Men Have Nipples, What Makes Flamingos Pink, Everything You Pretend to Know About Food And Are Afraid Someone Will Ask, and in looking at my bookshelves to see which books I had, I discovered that I also have the 4th & 5th books in the Bathroom Reader series. *giggle*)...anyway, I read that London detectives took pictures of the eyes of Jack the Ripper's victims, thinking that his image was burned on their retinas and they might examine them later to find a suspect. Where else has this been used?
In other news, the tomato plant that I thought I killed while transplanting is, in fact, alive and well and some of the flowers that had bloomed prior to the transplant now are fruit. *sqwee!* I discovered that many of the smaller "branches" that didn't have flowers yet dried up and fell off (or fell off when I touched them). I had decided that I was going to trim a lot of the "branches" off in order to let the plant focus it's energy on the few stalks that had flowers, but found that the plant did it for me, heh heh heh. I trimmed 2 decent-sized stalks off some of the cherry tomato plants (not the transplanted plant - I have 1 plum tomato plant and 4 cherry tomato plants) and instead of just chucking them, decided to plant them in the ground in the backyard. I planted them with a few inches of the stem sideways in the ground; I read somewhere when I was looking for info on tomato plants that they can grow roots along the whole stalk and that it's a good idea to lay them down a bit when planting to help them get a firm rooting. Surprise, they actually seem to be rooting! Like the transplanted plant, they looked really sad and wilted and about to die for a week or so, and now they seem to be trying to stand up in the sun. ?!?! So who knows what's going to happen? It would be cool if I got some kind of second season of tomatoes from them, but I don't think it's going to be warm enough for long enough for that to happen. Oh well. I should have tomatoes to harvest in a week or so, I think. :)
Um, that's about it. Heh heh heh.
~Kissy
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