The Mister has a bit of a hair fetish to complement his foot/naughty secretary thing. And Snarky really never knew about the extent of it until recently.
When he first met Snarky, she had a slightly angled bob that just curled beneath her chin. She had been maintaining the relatively chic 'do after a free makeover going in to her third year in college. Up until then she had rather a rather laissez faire approach to her hair except for the white streak (a la Rogue of X-Men fame or Pepe le Pieu's paramour, take your pick) she tried to maintain until she burned a bald patch on the side of her head.
She lapsed back into just growing it all out while in Europe for a semester, ending with a dramatic chop off "mas corta, por favor" in a "Super Tall" in Spain. (Who knew Super Cuts had gone international?)
Leading up to their wedding, Snarky finally returned to letting it all grow out in order to fulfill some deep-seated conviction that All Brides Must Have an Up 'Do. Her hair continued to grow until 2002 when, after a successful run doing impressions of "The Ring"'s Samara (and scaring the bejeezus out of all her co-workers), Snarky allowed her hairdresser to give her bangs.
This was the beginning of the end.
The bangs became Bettie Page bangs one hectic morning after Snarky's shaky attempts to even out the regrowth.
After that, it was only a matter of time before she succumbed to the inevitable and chopped it all off for charity.
Since that fateful November day (she kept the long hair one more Halloween in order to channel Cleopatra) Snarky has more or less kept the 'do at either page-boyish or rather Pat Benatarian levels.
The Snarks take their mini-golfing very seriously.
Growing out the highlights, and no, Snarky is not Flamenco-ing. She's modeling a knitting thingamabobber (Glampyre's One Skein Wonder, if you're curious)
A better look at The Benatar in all her glory.
After the unfortunate Hitler Bangs incident, Snarky finally agreed to let it all grow out again.
Lest we ever forget... re-posting proof of the Hitler Bangs.
This old photo most closely approximates the currently sideswept bangs (if you can make them out on her teeny tiny head). Is it just Snarky, or does it look like she's about to be plucked off the Earth by an Ent?
And for The Mister, there was much rejoicing. For while he has never once complained in all the years of Snarky's follicle fancies, he had been harboring a secret hope that she would return to the p0rn hair of yore. Every time she now wears her hair in the funky little pigtails - all she can currently manage - he gets a certain speculative gleam in his eye and breaks out into a boyish grin of delight.
It is this anticipation of his that is helping Snarky through some of the most difficult growing out phases she has ever encountered (and she's counting the skunky bald patch!). Right now she is currently at "vaguely choppy kinda-sorta rock mulletini-y" and would really just like to drop all the -y, -ie, -ishness and have a damn definitive 'do, already!
The things we do for love!
Edited to add: If she can find old pics of the old long hair, Snarky'll post 'em. She's also got a picture to be downloaded off the camera of the current oh-so-age-appropriate pigtails yet to post.
Snarky is mostly blind.
Granted, she's still a few (scant) steps away from being legally blind, but her eyesight is bad enough that sans glasses or contacts, she's pretty much waving her arms Frankenstein style and doing the nervous Don't-Crush-My-Toes-Slow-Dance/Tippy-Toes-Sweep-Walk that extreme myopia choreographs.
Given all this, Snarky just wanted to take a quick moment to praise Chez Snark to it's blessed little rafters for having just enough square footage to allow for all the Snarks' crap to be spread out all over the place and still have enough room left over to maintain clear, blind people walkways.
It has gotten to the point that The Snarks can't remember a time when All This Stuff fit in to a less-than 800 square foot apartment. How'd they do it? Maaaagic!
Snarky also wants to bless Chez Snark's little anthropomorphized heart for having an added bonus accessory of an old charcoal grill. The Snarks enjoyed beef kabobs, roasted corn, and 'taters, followed by more-or-less successful dark chocolate s'mores for the Fourth. Unfortunately, they could not motivate their lazy behinds into making a nice pitcher of Sangria but there's plenty of time for that yet.
Since Snarky is an image posting fool, this entry is continued from Part One below...
On to the brightness:
This was supposed to be the Auburgine Anteroom to the Brown Boudoir. The second coat is darker, and the Snarks are planning a third. The Mister is already grumbling about washing over this with either black or dark blue to tone down the pink. PINK!
Behold the pukey green before of the exercise room. This color has been dubbed "shittay" by a close family friend, and the Snarks are not arguing with that. Shittay indeed.
The solution? A little somethin' somethin' called "Glowing Firelight". "Glowing"? Try "Glowering"! Darkity likes!
After one coat. There might be as many as three in this room too. Also eventually a metallic wash over the whole shebang. Because they can.
A shot of the test wall in the living room for the Granny Smith Apple Green. It is a bit brighter than in this shot. Also, yes, the red has GOT to go. This is not Christmasville.
Are your eyes now pulsing and watery? The Snarks are enjoying their crash course in color theory. They did not have the opportunity to paint prior to moving in to their last house. While the coming weeks promise to be a hectic scramble to the finish for so many things (the amazingly intricate domino array of contractors needed to just Take a Bath, not to mention the whole "move all the crap in the apartment into the house" manoeuver) (A procedure so complicated it needed extra vowels!) The Snarks are truly enjoying the feeling of putting their (technicolor, barf-up-a-rainbow) stamp on this little house.
Last night they even schlepped a few things over to make their first dinner in the house.
Nevermind the fact that they don't have a fridge yet. Brushetta!
Snarky would like to leave you with something a little more restful for the eyes. This is what greets them from the kitchen sink when they finally manage to wrestle the battered side door open:
Just breathe...
(Thank Beth for Faustus!)
Snarky would like to submit for the record that she is wearing a skirt to work today.
This is a rare occasion and had to be noted:
-knee high black Ecco boots (semi-sexy, mostly sensible)
-pink and white striped knee high socks
-gray flannel pin-striped long skirt (purchased from a punk store in downtown Asheville) that causes Snarky to walk like Morticia Addams
-black stretch button down Banana Republic shirt
-light pink railroad/ribbon yarn (inkdarkmoon: think Knitting Fever's Dazzle or somesuch) neck... thingy. It's a really skinny scarf that looks more like a deconstructed cravat
-fuschia shrinky dink skulls earrings from Sweet Action Lab
-red lip stain under sparkly lip gloss
-Bearded Lady
There.
Tonight she and The Mister are going on a double date with their real estate agent and his wife. He's a pretty interesting guy, though the wife is a bit of a cipher still. They are going to see Inland Empire again because Mr. RealEstateAgent is a huge, huge David Lynch fan... which is very disconcerting for the Snarks. Lynch is a hard artist to pin down, but whatever anyone might think of when picturing a Lynch afficionado, Mr. REA is the exact opposite (or possibly dead on. It's really hard to tell.).
At the risk of incurring the Wrath of the Gods, Snarky wants y'all to have a peek:
The Possibly Maybe Future Chez Snark
She's already scheming where the yarn, BPAL, and LUSH stashes will go. She's going to have her own bathroom, finally! No more comingling of her "lotions and potions" (The Mister's term) with his manly toilette.
Snarky hastens to add that she decided to wear Clio today. This is another surprise imp in her ammo case that is sorta-kinda spring like (in a deep dark pathouli-ish sort of way). Also, the lavendar is helping her to remain a little more calm and clear-headed given the circumstances.
Just put on a happy face (dammit)!
Snarky has been in a three day Very Bad Mood that has been interrupted by bouts of happiness, contentment, and countless uncomfortably sweaty naps.
She's sure things will turn around soon, but just wanted everyone to know she's avoided updating her blog in order to minimize the bleed through of her psychic pollution.
On a slightly better note, she's really starting to fall in love with her (mangy, crispy, slug-infested) garden.
Carry on. (Snarky :heart:s Tim Gunn. Just so you know.)
(After Snarky was schooled, she has always preferred the Queen song containing that famously ripped of Vanilla Ice lyric, though the sting of plagerism has faded over time to be replaced with a kind of dorky nostalgia too.)
The Mister collapsed at work yesterday. By the time the ambulance got there, he was awake, aware, and talking. He walked to the ambulance on his own steam. The ER doc couldn't positively pinpoint the cause, though stress and anxiety are likely candidates.
After a couple hours of observation (and another one waiting impatiently to be discharged) Snarky was able to take him home. They had cheesy Mexican food and wandered around Trader Joe's and bought up supplies for a near-future (possibly before the Fourth, as the Snarks are an impatient bunch) cookout on their newly discovered charcoal grill.
The Mister will take off of work today, but is already antsy about not keeping up with his landslide of work. Snarky tried (half-heartedly) to obtain something for him to work on when she stopped by his office yesterday to pick up the car.
His boss, hopefully finally Seeing the Light, refused to let her take anything, and strongly urged The Mister to stay at home and rest through the Fourth.
Snarky knows that this grand statement is partly spurned by genuine concern, but she also knows that The Mister will just get all the more agitated because now his boss's unable-to-delegate and/or assign-work-realistically "management style" will push all the pressure onto the other already loaded-down PMs in the office. Which gives him stress.
And Snarky is trying ever so hard to minimize the stress. Like some kind of frightened, over-protective mother hen. The Mister is a grown man, but Snarky can't help but remember seeing him with wires and tubes and bustling be-scrubbed attendants.
No matter how many episodes of "House" or "Gray's Anatomy" she'll see... nothing will inure her to that sight. Ever.
(Great, now Snarky is craving graham crackers and marshmellows and melty dark chocolate.)
Very quickly, as Snarky's back is starting to protest after a weekend of bent-over-the-coffee-table-exact-o-knifing, she's about 80% finished with the DeathRockFamily freezer paper stenciled t-shirts!
Step One: select toddler-appropriate imagery and use as template for freezer paper stencil.
Step Two: iron stencil onto targeted surface (in this case, American Apparel's toddler-sized raglan t-shirt) using another piece of freezer paper as back on other side of surface to add stability and prevent bleed-through.
Step Three: develop big head from success of first project, proceed to go insane and decide to stencil text onto next t-shirt. Because you are also slightly masochistic.
Step Four: covet your own work. (Note: the bear trap is just one application of black ink, but the toaster shirt has three coats because Snarky didn't have light colored paint intended for dark surfaces.)
Step Five: go even more bat-crap-crazy and decide to shoot for the moon on your next design. Halfway through, shake fist (while carefully aiming exact-o knife away from face) and ask WHYYYYYY?!?!?!
Step Six: Just walk away from the stencil. Take a breather. Come back tomorrow.
Snarky will post finished DeathRockMama shirt picks tomorrow (hopefully).
Snarky got back on the needle felting wagon this weekend. She made a little desktop meditating turtle for her best friend, who is currently going through some tough times trying to find work in an over-saturated market. On to the cuteness!
Behold the Om Turtle!
(Fuzzy) Close-up
The shell is detachable. Note the cute little turtle butt! The lighter colored... thingie is a pocket. And what's in the pocket?
A wee little heart! Or a T-bone steak! Whichever will make her happier!
There is something very therapuetic about stabbing a blob of fluff repeatedly until it forms into something. Snarky couldn't completely zone out (that would result in punctured paws) but she could take her mind off of more serious matters this weekend and concentrate on just making something.
The Snarks are what you could call DINKs (Double Income, No Kids - Snarky just learned of this acronym last week because she is culturally out of it). They aren't wealthy, nor are they well paid, but they are comfortable and able to indulge in small luxuries like restaurant dining when they want and the occasional pair of new (but sensible!) shoes.
They know they are lucky to have managed their previous investments well enough to be in their current house (which they love just a little more each day even with all the blemishes that every old house has). Though she hasn't been completely willy-nilly about their post-real estate orgy, Snarky has been feeling like the other shoe must drop from their recent "fixin'/preppin' the house for total habitation" purchases.
And that shoe got dropped yesterday over the phone with The Mister. He wants to give notice at his current job. He plans to have his last day be the Friday before the Labor Day weekend. He won't start looking for another job until about a month before his last day.
Snarky knows the contributing factors to this major decision are not flippant ones, but she can't help but feel a bit of panic, a bit like the rug was pulled out from underneath her feet.
He hasn't been happy in that job almost from the beginning. He has been dealing with depression and poor health exacerbated by the high and constant stress. At one point last night he turned to her and said "And if a year from now, if we are both in jobs we really love but that don't pay as much, is it that much of a loss if we can't keep this house?"
And Snarky was torn. She wants him to find his place in the world, she does. She would even like to find out exactly what she should be when she grows up. But this house... this house is already so special to her. She'd like to have her cake and eat it too.
Snarky has been taking pictures like a madwoman, but instead of downloading and formatting, her evenings have been taken up with weeding and painting. She hopes to give you updates soon on the continuing evolution of ChezSnark. There's been hardwood floor refinishing, tub resurfacing, Asian Tigering, and even more painting of retina-searing hues.
She just hopes she won't be covering all of this up with eggshell in a year's time.
The living room, formerly a sort of cranberry red - which was lovely when the living room was a cool grey but clashes badly with the candy apple green, is currently a decidedly horrid first-coat shade of yellow-orange papaya.
It's a fun shade. Festive, even, but just not what should go next to such a bright, vibrant, glowing green. Just... no.
So The Mister just got off the phone with Snarky to propose... black.
His reasons:
1) the Snarks already have a gallon matte black (not because they are goths, but because they wanted to use it as the base coat for the gumball red going up down in the basement... because they are goths)
2) the ultimate wall treatment for the living room will be nothing more than a framing device for all the state plates (The Mister's new Goodwill scavanger hunt obsession) large art posters (Mucha and other Arts & Crafts/pre-Raphaelite/etc. type work) and other various arty things. The walls will be crowded with stuff, and any color will be even less than background in the end.
3) the tenative theme for the living/dining room is "chinoiserie", with the brilliant green accented by laquered blacks, clear reds, and crisp whites. Using black in the dining room would in the end clash much less than the Bango-Mango-Madness currently erupting along two-thirds of the dining room (and ringing the windows and trim)
4) resale, schmesale.
So... Snarky's convinced. Worst case scenario: they end up using a gallon of Kilz to remove all proof of their folly. Best case: they continue to make this house truly and uniquely ChezSnark.
Still, yikes!
The Mister's maternal grandmother passed away yesterday. She had been slowly leaving this world for the past two years, but this weekend was her final exit. By all accounts she most likely died in her sleep after they unhooked her from life support.
The Mister had already said good bye to her long before all this. The Snarks went to see her when they visited Back East last fall, but she was hardly the woman they knew even from just six months before their last visit.
They already remember her from a more vibrant time. They are going back not so much to conjure up those memories, but to provide support to the MIL and The Mister's uncle.
They are also going to see their third niece for the first time.
The Snarks knew this was an inevitability (the MIL has been preparing them for this for the last five years) but still can't help but feel a little taken by surprise. This also completely negates any plans they might have had to visit around Christmastime as they have already booked up the rest of their time off with the DarkityFam in mid-September (the vacation AKA Hurricanes Ahoy! 2006).
Snarky will most likely be incommunicado from tomorrow through Sunday when she returns. They will have two days to prepare the house for the week-long visit of her parents starting next Wednesday.
And before they go, Snarky has a second interview at one of her Dream Companies tomorrow. Plenty of things to keep them from getting morbid/morose.
Snarky has lost her freaking mind.
Case and Point
This is the flooring she wants for her bathroom. The Mister wanted something more neutral, but this just spoke to her.
Maybe it's because the colorway is called "Asian Tiger". Snarky is just a complete sucker for names of colors that say nothing about the color. (Then again, The Mister's choice was something like "Picasso Splash" or somesuch.)
Send help. Preferrably in the form of beigy, calming tones.
Snarky owns several statementy T-shirts that she used to employ to keep her sense of self at the gym. One had a giant, glaring Big Brother (from "1984"), another declared "RACIAL STEREOTYPES DEHUMANIZE" (a gift from her activist brother), and yet another one implored the reader to "Visualize Whirled Peas".
Which really has nothing to do with this post, except that Snarky finally managed to download some photos and was thinking along the lines of helping y'all to visualize her life out here in the Pacific Northwest.
More to come, eventually.
First, some more house pics!
A bad photo of our finished floor upstairs. Also an inkling of our whacky PeeWee color choices.
The cats spend most of their day up in the hutch.
Meant to give you an idea of the amazing candy-apple-green of the living room. Also our slovenly ways.
And love for Kubrick.
... and some travel pics...
One of our recent bike excursions on the Spring Water Corridor Trail. The red speck is The Mister.
A mural by the Devil's Punchbowl on the coast. The poppies are real.
Closeup of the strange sand formations on Hobbit Beach.
This is why the Snarks love the coast.
The Snarky's on the coast! The Mister has sworn to learn how to use the camera. Someday you might actually see more than just Reflected!Snarky.
OK... that's it for now. Coming soon: more coastal pics, the IKEA run, and 'maters!
Ah, Fall! What an evocative name for the season. Snarky thinks of dying trees and the inevitability of gravity, time, entropy, age. Such a beautiful time of the year. The French probably have a perfect word to describe this rather gothic appreciation of the last gasp of life.
Also the Cantonese. Snarky has been learning some rather ribald Chinese sayings from her parents used to describe the universal truths of life. Darned if she can remember any of them right now, though.
The Snarks are Big Fans of this time of year. This month they will be celebrating their sixth (!) anniversary, in fact. They got married in an autumnal blaze of glory. Fall of ought-ought turned out to be one of the best years for color in recent history for the Western North Carolina mountains.
And what else besides the crisp charge in the air heralds the arrival of this most beloved time of year? Why, produce, of course!
Honeycrisp apples at the Beaverton Farmer's Market
Brussel Tree! Sometimes the Snarks forget that these don't actually grow in little mesh plastic bags.
The Snarks are surrounded by artichoke farms (well, OK, just the one outside of Tillamook) but this was the first time since moving Out West that they partook. Cha cha cha!
Out with the pesto pizza, in with the roasted portabella pizza!
Perfect fall days start with a trip to Kruger's Farm Market on Sauvie Island.
The Snarks are preparing for an anniversary weekend in a treehouse, in which they will be working dilligently to build up their winter coats. The Mister is already researching recipes for their time in the woods. (A sure sign that the Snarks were meant for eachother if there ever was one.) There will be roasted root vegetables and cobblers and at some point a Butterfinger pie (sixth anniversary = gifts of candy or iron, and Snarky hasn't been near a welding torch in almost a decade). The nose might be directly linked up to the deepest parts of memory in the brain, but Snarky's heart is hard-wired to her stomach.
Snarky has Stevie Nicks by way of Lucy Lawless stuck in her head now... though sometimes the voice switches over to that Smashing Pumpkins guy.
Which is really, really annoying. She really missed the Smashing Pumpkins boat mostly because of Corgan. Sure his voice (grating, nasal, tremulous) was the angry yawp of her "generation", but Snarky hasn't been all that keen about her generation either.
The Snarks are going into this short work week completely unprepared for Turkey Day. They have a vague idea of a menu, but since the only attendants to The Feast will be themselves, they haven't really put a great deal of pressure on the timeliness of said meal.
They are still hosting family, though. The difference is that that particular meal is happening tonight (!!) and Snarky came up with the menu for tonight's meal while trying to get to sleep last night. DarkityMa (she of the "start cooking three days in advance" method) would be ashamed.
So tonight Snarky's father's older sister's middle son and his wife (ie her cousins) will be fed gingered catfish and mysteriously cooked spring pea tips & tendrils. "Mysteriously" because Snarky has only cooked these kinds of greens twice (boiled the first time, stir fried the second) with varying results. Tonight she'll probably par-boil then finish off in the wok after she's done with the catfish. The Snarks love to experiment on their guests. (insert hand rubbing and low, evil laugh here)
Shoot. Now Snarky's hungry.
PS More proof positive that The Mister is a perfect match for Snarky: she called to touch base over her lunch break about tonight, and he's gone and added about three more dishes to include with the meal (appetizer, additional side, and dessert).
Snarky has absolutely nothing profound upon which to pontificate. She has completely rotted out her brains on television lately (TV "watching" - which is more like TV listening the way Snarky does it - is the perfect companion to repetitive lace knitting) and can only bullet point the programs that have permanently wiped out such things as high school calculus, family members' birthdays, and her favorite cornbread recipe:
* 24: mmmmm Baueriffic. Not that the show is meant to be plausible in anyway, but the Snarks do like getting a good workout early in the week.
* ANTM: Snarky started watching this in earnest again last week and confessed, tail between legs, to her co-workers that she had... only to find out that they had been sneaking episodes too! It was the freakin' laser beams that pulled them all back in!
* Babylon 5: they are up to season four and are really enjoying seeing all the arcy goodness come to fruition. Snarky especially enjoys the cast commentary included on the tenth anniversary DVDs (Kosh's "eye" is referred to as "the sphincter" )
* Battlestar Galactica: the Snarks are still unable to watch their favorite show on its new night because they are only getting older and crankier and really do require a reasonable bedtime on Sunday nights. So no, they haven't seen this last episode yet. They have gotten the shock wave of angst from across the country from their BSG loving friends, though.
* Grey's Anatomy: this show is thisclose to going On Notice. Snarky would really, really like to know where all these Izzie/George 'shippers are. Because she wants to understand why the sudden luurve where there wasn't any at all, and why all this support for this magical luurve and JUST WHY?! It makes no freaking sense.
* March Madness: Snarky isn't really paying attention to this, but it is what's on at ChezSnark. So it gets a placeholder.
* Planet Earth: The Mister stumbled across this series on the Discovery channel last night. Amazing, beautiful, breathtaking footage. Even (possibly especially) the brutal moments - like the shark pursuing and ultimately devouring a seal in midair - are just absolutely captivating.
* Princess Tutu: Snarky did not get the whole shojo thing until this weekend. This is the perfect confluence of Snarky's dance background, her love of fairy tales and story telling, and all those stolen moments of pretty-boy anime oogling back when she visited her cousins in Hong Kong. Really very clever.
* Ugly Betty: awesome as always. This show has the palette of an Almodovar movie crossed with the subversive joy of Peewee's Playhouse plus the deftness and timing of a Gene Kelly dance number (and sometimes also the tight sailor pants to boot!). Or something. Just total eye candy and wonderfully snarky/bitchy/delicious throw-away lines.
Snarky is either planning on getting a life soon before her ass completely melds to the couch... or... well, there is Eunny's print o' the wave pattern she could be working on... (as soon as she finds cobweb weight yarn. )
The Snarkys are addicted to HGTV. They watch famlies in their intimate spaces, delving up the tender secrets of their everyday lives to intruding strangers. They watch as these odd bedfellows work in sweaty, dusty, passionate union to create something better with their homes.
The Snarkys dream of doing it too. They are beginning to believe that this might become their backdrop. Cue bamp-chicka-bamp music:
Where all the magic happens...
But wait? What's behind this little hobbit door?
Secks-SAY!
Xena knew something was up the way She was calling to her with that nearly-falsetto voice. She never called to Xena like that unless Something Bad was about to happen. Last time it had been twenty hours in that blasted carrier in the loud growling metal box, Junebug mewling plantively like the little whiny bitch she is. Xena had saved up her displeasure to generate one particularly foul poop that filled that metal box with the smell of her indignation.
Then they had been moved into a larger metal box that roared enough to shake the ground. By that point even Junebug was too terrified to make a noise. They were finally freed by Him into a small, carpeted room. Xena found all her new hiding places within the first few days.
After a while, it seemed perfectly normal to be two cats and two humans in a small carpeted room. There were three windows that opened out to trees and crazy talking people down below. The food stayed good, and the litter box was (mostly) fresh. Xena and Junebug got used to it and began to forget about their ordeal.
And then one day She came back from Outside, talking in that cracking, anxious voice that should have rumbled with impending doom. Xena recalls with horror how She resorted to using half of a wooden paddle to sweep her out from underneath the coffee table. A paddle!
Oh she hissed. She hissed and did that low, lingering growl bourne from sheer panic. She even released her bladder a bit, which only made Her voice go even higher.
Then He got home. He that was usually their saviour. And He stuffed her in the hamper. Traitor.
She was too frazzled to even muster a good protest poop as they rumbled in another metal box. Junebug still found the air to yowl a few good times, and Xena tried to answer back with her own timid "meh-reow?"s.
When the world stopped rumbling and lurching about, they found themselves in a small room that stank of laquer. The windows were too high to reach, and there was a lone lamp on the floor. The litter box was not where it was supposed to be, it was in the corner. There was food, but it tasted of ashes.
Xena nudged the litterbox out of the corner and created another slender hiding space. She stayed there for two days.
Junebug, and Xena is convinced that she might be a little damaged in the head for this, hid in her carrier every time they heard the clomp-squeak noises in the ceiling. Who hides in that place of impending anguish? Only cats who are Not Right in Their Heads, Bless Their Hearts.
Finally on the third day the door cracked open and He released them into... into what? There are too many places. There are windows to look out to trees, there are windows where they can see Them coming and going in their metal box. There are old familar smells behind the doors Xena has already figured out how to open, smells of His feet and Her perfume piled up and hung down like layers of comforting curtains in the dark. There are new smells and strange, smaller metal boxes. There don't seem to be other cats in these boxes, but They seem to spend a lot of time cooing at them anyway.
He has been gone for a few days. She seems to be quieter, less active because of it. She is giving lots of belly rubs, though, so Xena thinks it will all be OK. If not now, then soon.
She is still keeping an eye out for the carrier though, and a cautious ear for any change in register in Her voice.
Eat your heart out, Bellagio!
So the ancient running joke is that Snarky is in possession of two very black thumbs.
The Mister made a habit of gifting her with a potted orchid (of the Lowe's/Home Depot variety) every Valentine's Day, knowing that she would eventually find a way to kill it. One year he gave her a companion cactus thinking that it would outlive the orchid which seemed extremely logical at the time.
Snarky deflated it.
Back in May, some good friends of the Snarks came out to visit. The wife is a master gardener and the husband is the handiest of handymen. They both have done amazing things to their triple wide trailer (and 5 acres of property) nestled in the Appalachians.
The Snarks were able to give them a tour of their soon-to-be house for hints/tips/praise/approval. She did a careful evaluation of the landscaping (somewhat over-exotic for the Snark's taste, but really quite impressive) and even gifted them with a regional resource (which has since been packed and lost, but will be found again, by gum!).
If it weren't for their words of encouragement, Snarky might've considered a scorched earth approach to the existing landscaping. So... they're trying. Most of the bordering landscaping has been weeded (Snarky suspects she "accidentally" took out some "decorative" thistle, but it was annoying and leggy) except for the corner with the roses... which are choking and trying their darndest to continue despite her efforts to destroy them.
She harvested a fistful of lavendar blossoms which are being artfully displayed in one of their many "why did we register for all these?" vases.
They've got a miniature garden (mostly for sammich makin's - tomato and cuke) fighting it out with the clover.
They are doing their best not to destroy what was left to them. Besides the curly willow, which had to go. (Much to the shock of the neighborhood.)
Cross your spades and pointy weeder thingies (Snarky likes to call it "The Probe") for them... pictures of the carnage results soon!
Snarky knows y'all must be getting tired of her waxing all faux-philosophical and all and why can't she just get back to posting pics of the house, dag nabbit? Well, she does have a few pics, but of course she doesn't have them ready for you yet.
On a lark she just looked up a former classmate from her architorture school days and has found out that she is now the happy mother of two wonderful kids. Snarky shouldn't be surprised, as she was one of the bridesmaids at this friend's wedding which took place as soon as they possibly could manage it immediately following graduation.
The W's were an exclusive couple very early into the whole collegiate experience (from Snarky's held-over High School Sweetheart phase, through the embarrassing experimental Rugby moment, all the way to meeting The Mister online). It was almost a given that they were going to be married. They just complemented eachother so thoroughly and well.
Still Snarky can't help but feel a bit of shock. Someone who has been frozen in her mind for the last eight years just got suddenly ultra-fast forwarded to being a Mommy twice over.
The same happened a couple years ago when she got in touch with an old high school roommate who had also gone and had two kids. The shock was a bit lessened by the fact that Snarky knew about Child #1 (though #2 was a complete surprise as they had lost touch by then).
The Snarks are still very much on the fence about this whole child-having thing anyway, but somehow Snarky is feeling like she missed the boat somehow - that she's in a moment of suspended animation just spinning her wheels, not really doing anything.
If she decided not to have children, then surely she must be on some upwardly mobile corporate ladder or carving a bold new niche for some previously undiscovered marketable need. Right? Only... no. Snarky hasn't done that either. Snarky really hasn't done much at all on either the family or career fronts.
Is Snarky a Slacker? If not children and not career... then what will be her legacy?
(According to this week's issue of the local freebie paper, Portland is a city of slackers. Perhaps this is why Snarky feels so attuned to the place.)
Purely through serendipity, Snarky was directed to the site of one Walt Lockley (link to his site, here's his Wikipedia user bio). She needs to find out more about this man.
She read about the history of the Garden of Allah in Hollywood and thought of Valentina when she read the following passage:
Snarky doesn't even know if anyone else gets excited about things like this (she has only recently been reminded of her own love affair with the built environment), but she just had to share that tidbit.
Much to her (and her checkbook's) chagrin, Snarky has developed a taste for LE's.
In keeping with her sporadic - if not downright sparse-to-non-existant - BPAL purchasing/swapping habits, she's probably a couple-three updates behind everyone else in the taste testing. Case and point? Her current go-to scent is Bearded Lady. Her first great love was French Creole. Luckily her day-to-day scent is the comfortably GC Tombstone (albeit combined with a breath of single note sweet clove thanks to minilux).
The Mister insists that all of her BPAL at the end of the day smells like band-aids, so this is purely an exercise in selfish hedonism for her. (Though he does respond positively to just-applied Bearded Lady. For a man indifferent to most BPAL, he sure does have rarified taste!)
Snarky's new job (which, IEEEE! ) comes with many benefits. She keeps herself awake at night just imagining how it will feel to actually look forward to work - something she hasn't honestly done in years. But the job comes with a substantial pay cut. This is admittedly made up for by the inherent awesomeness of her new company and the possibilities that will be open to her in this new field of work, but at face value less moolah is less moolah.
And with less moolah (and the Snarks' joint checking account) Snarky is feeling the pinch on her already fairly anemic impulse buying budget.
The emergency flight Back East, her parents' impending arrival (tomorrow night!!) and the upcoming five-day cruise have and will also drain their resources a bit.
But Snarky has perspective: they are not hungry. They are not drowning in debt. She has plenty of clothes and yarn and, to be honest, BPAL to last quite a while. She could make a large (for her) order and not break the bank.
Still... she wants to celebrate her new direction. So she's going to make a list. It isn't a wishlist so much as a... well, it's just a list. Sometimes Snarky just has to indulge her Cappy tendencies and organize her pipe dreams.
slipped through the fingers
-Hungry Ghost Moon
-Chrysanthemum Moon
constant craving
-Faustus
goin' a-courtin'
-Mme. Moriarty
-Organ Grinder
-Pumpkin Queen
-Count Dracula
-Wilhelmina Murray, maybe (Snarky is, after some fashion, named after this character, afterall - but currants + Snarky = weird fruitiness)
-Dr. John Seward
Ugh. Snarky is really not trying to make this some whiny-pantsed post. She is thrilled to pieces that the Lab continues to mesmerize and delight (exponentially it seems lately). So she'll settle for being happy for everyone who is taking part (and maybe she'll sneak in a wee ickle order of her own under The Mister's nose... so to speak.)
Snarky has been back for a week now, but she can't seem to get the floaty boat feeling out of her head. Add to that the continued "hit-the-ground-runningness" of her new job (which she is really starting to enjoy despite its ability to snatch the hours and days right from underneath her like a neat card room trick) and she just can't seem to find the time to re-establish her online persona.
She's also been feeling a bit Garbo lately too.
Still, she's going to make an effort to get back in to the swing of things.
And where words might be slow in trickling back into the well for her, Snarky always has more pictures!
First day out to sea.
The Hitler Bangs are Dead. Long live the Bangs of Indeterminate Length and/or Direction!
DarkityBro soaking up the sun (and being spied upon by his older sister).
The DarkityRents are also cute whilst evading the pesky paparazzi.
Many moons ago Snarky spent a semester studying ancient Mayan architecture. The Chichen Itza ruins include the main temple (El Castillo) which does a neat trick every Equinox. The Snarks where there a day early. Damn you Murphy, and your stupid Law! It was still an impressive site (and sight), even if the government no longer allows tourists to scramble at their own peril up the steep temple stairs.
Mostly besides the sights and sounds, there was The Food. Oh sweet honey in the rock, was there Food. Snarky will need to make a whole separate post just to discuss the heirarchy and humongousness of The Food.
But for now... she's slinking back into her cave to play with some sticks and string. It up and got all Autumnal before she even realized it. Perfect knitting weather!
Packaging reads: Disco, optional
So, after a brief brush with the concept of single-income-dom a few months ago (that was circumvented with a lateral career move), it looks like The Mister has finally reached the end of his rope with his current employer. He's meeting with his supervisor sometime today to announce his intention of resigning from his position effective the end of this month.
Snarky will surely panic later, but currently she is feeling oddly fine about things. It's not the end of the world... just the end of the world as she knows it. And when she looks around, she sees all sorts of things that can be trimmed away to make their impending financial strain less panic-inducing.
Snarky grew up not quite poor, but very, very frugally. She can re-create some of the methods her parents employed to ensure that the important things remain covered.
Normally, and this was proven in very recent history with The Mister's last "I've had it!" moment, Snarky does not handle the threat to her creature comforts well. But this morning when The Mister reached over to take her hand, it was shaking violently enough that she thought he was rapidly squeezing her hand for some unknown reason. She gave him one of his emergency panic attack pills, cooked him a quick breakfast, and went out into the rain. Now she's wondering if she should have stayed behind to provide moral support while he prepared for this life-changing day.
In slightly better-perhaps news, she pointed The Mister to the "Be an Actuary" site that antimony suggested a while back, and he was very intrigued. Turns out the actuarial field was one of his top picks based on some sort of career choice evaluation he did a while ago.
In the meantime, Snarky knows The Mister well enough that he will land on his feet. It will be rough going, but they will get there.
