Beauty and the Magnum Force

 Spring is sleepy season. I sleep like the dead in the spring, and though I'm not sure why, I have a strong suspicion that my body fighting pollen and spring hayfever causes a slight thyroid drag. I go to bed at a ridiculously early hour (often by 9:30pm) because I have to get up at an even more ungodly hour, and get my workout done before I go to work. I prefer a morning workout - makes me feel like I've accomplished something early in the day, gives me a sense of optimism and accomplishment, boosts the metabolism, and allows me the freedom to get a guilt-free beer after work, if I decide that's what I want to do. Not to mention only needing one shower per day.

I have also learned to sleep in the position of a mummy - between SPOUSE on one side, and one or more cats on the other, I end up pinned in one position, usually on my back with hands folded across my stomach, like a carved figure on a Medieval Sarcophagus. It may look creepy, but at least it's neat.

Speaking of sleep, I had the best dream ever earlier this week. I was a sleeping Snow White (or maybe Sleeping Beauty, the situation was similar in both stories), and I won't tell you who Prince Charming was, (Thups to anyone who guesses)  -  but the kiss that woke me (I woke up in the dream and dreamed some more stuff before I woke up in the real world) was among the best dream kisses my psyche has ever conjured. "I gotta fix THIS situation," he said, as he leaned in, and laid it on me. I'm the least romantic or sentimental rabbit in the forest, but that little moment of mental filmmaking was one of the loveliest friggin' gifts my synapses have ever given me. I usually dream mundane things like doing groceries, or finding stray baby animals, or arguments I need to have - not romantic interludes or sex or any of that nonsense. It was pretty innocent, too, just a kiss, nothing more. And I don't put much stock in what dreams are supposed to mean - don't buy into New Age woo or Jungian Symbolism or anything like that - they're just pictures your brain makes as you rest and let the cells divide and replenish themselves. But sometimes you get a little present. Which is nice.

This brings an end to this charmed, feminine interlude. This blog will return to its angry rabbit diatribes and cantankerousness, as soon as I scrape together enough vitriol for a fresh post. Who knows when. Rabbit girl out. 

So... here's my plan.

What? Oh. No, I don't have one.

Taught myself a couple of new songs on guitar over the weekend and it brought home several truths. One is that I am no longer even as good a guitar player as I was in my teens (which wasn't very friggin' good to begin with, to be honest). Two is that my brain no longer works like it used to musically - it took staring at the chord changes I found on the internet (probably wrong) for a couple of hours and an ass-load of effort and concentration to memorize, where it used only to take one or two run-throughs and the melodic and muscle memory took it from there. (PLUS, ALL THAT FINGER PICKING. FUCK.) Three is that if I am to consider playing more regularly, I will definitely need to either invest a few hundred in getting my guitars fixed up so they're enjoyable to play, or buy a new axe or two.

Now, as to the first truth, and even the second, I strongly suspect that if I addressed the third truth and either or both axes were fun to play, I would play more regularly - and I could rediscover the muscle memory, musical ear, finger strength, etc.

The acoustic (Yamaha) needs a pretty significant neck adjustment - the action is too high, and it goes out of tune faster than grass through a goose - it's not just no fun to play, it's actually painful. I paid $180 for it in 1989, maybe not worth the money/work. The electric has a bad jack, so the signal cord-to-amp is dodgy, some previous owner has put on some tuning pegs that are alarmingly large and bump against each other (!!!!!!), and also needs some neck work. This is a Fender Musicmaster copy, which I paid about $225 for back in 1984. So again, is it worth it to fix up, or should I just start saving aggressively and buy something that'll be ready to plunk around with when I am feeling like a good strum'n'howl?

Also wouldn't mind a ukelele to dick around with in a rocking chair on the porch on those nice summer evenings, and be the neighborhood hillbilly. But that's another thing entirely, and first things first.

So this is what's been occupying my brain lately. Along with the usual shit.

Speaking of shit, how big a douchebag is Ted Nugent? Surprised anyone is taking him seriously - he is, and always was, irrelevant. What a fucking clown.

Ah, Irony.

So I'm driving in to work this morning behind a big truck that has a bumper sticker that reads, (in English), "Welcome to America. Now speak English or get out." Anyone else find the irony in this hilarious?

Oh, I can't be arsed with all that.

Watched a total of 3 minutes of the Grammys last night. Which is more than I've watched since 1984. Here's the story with 1984:

In 1984, Big Country was nominated for Best New Artist.

They lost to Culture Club.

I haven't looked at the Grammys since.

Lean/Mean/Hellbentforleather/Maybe

Well now, Happy New Year!

JEEBUS though, I am most definitely in need of a fresh start after the last couple of months. Even before the holiday break got going, the unhealthy living was in full swing. Too much drink, not enough exercise, not enough sun, too much bad food, too much being out of the warren. No wonder I was being such a lapin grincheux.

But listen, I made it this far without catching some awful little bastard of a bug, so I'm still ahead of the game. Honestly can't remember the last time we entered the Christmas vacation week without either me or SPOUSE being sick in some way. So there's that. Besides a few extra pounds, living the lifestyle of a barfly (or my 25 year old self) has only left one other mark upon me - an angry pimply passenger has just in the last two days taken up residence on my upper lip. Massive, red, painful stinger, just sitting there, mocking me. (Aren't you glad you've checked in here today?) Must admit I earned it, but I shall have to resist the urge to pop it, see if I can get rid of it by ignoring it - though that is difficult as it has its own zip code, AND I think it just whispered something.

Oh, shit.

So, to borrow a meme from Sassy, holiday break adds up this way:

Rested - plus 3
No cold or flu - plus 3
Weight gain from holiday foods - minus 2
Gigantic zit - minus 3
Got good prezzies - (new laptop!) - plus 3

Overall: plus 4. (I just had to use a pencil and paper to do that math. Maybe that's a minus but I don't have the heart to penalize myself, so I won't.)

Back to work.

Happy Holidays!

Cowlick!

My new crew cut has alerted me to a cowlick I didn't know was there. I look like this:


Well, actually not quite. But I realized this morning as I was driving to work that I have cultivated a seriously lesbian look.

Oh well.