Sep. 6th, 2005

trystinn: (Default)
Gorgeous morning here, and it not yet sixty degrees in the house, a bit cooler outdoors. Very damp, with dew hanging on the branches and making the grass sparkle in the slanting morning light.

Right after morning coffee, I typically go outside and check on the Orchard House bunny enclosure. Now, for reasons I've never really understood, every time I go to check on them the black one (Jet) jumps on the chestnut agouli (Amber) and begins humping away. Whatever message Jet is trying to send to me, I'm not receiving it, apparently. After verifying they have hay, water and pellets, I consider them good for the morning and carry on. I'll check on them a few more times during the day and once before bedtime to verify they haven't run out of food & water or figured out some new mischevious way to get out of their enclosure. So far, so good.

Then, through the Orchard Gate out to the Circle. Beautiful stuff. Some mornings there's fog lingering about in the circle, other times its so clear and sharp. Hard to say which I prefer, really. I wander about, sipping coffee, make sure nothing settled over the night, etc. I run through a quick LBRP (personalized), then head back to the house after a quick good morning to the Aradia shrine, which really needs more attention from me than its gotten. Poor Aradia, last in line after the spiral walk, bunny house and circle. Way past time to get creative and build something interesting for Her.

More coffee, a quick glucose check, breakfast and I'm ready to start my day.
trystinn: (furries)
Ugh..this one is gonna get ugly.

I just got ANOTHER invitation to one of those 'parties' with a commerce theme. Party Lite, Passions Party, Tupperware, you name it - I get the invites.

Just for fun - let's analyze this through my snark sensor array. You're inviting me over to your house (often when you've never invited me over before) so you can get all sorts of hostess gifts and feed me in exchange for your friend to be able to run her little business out of our homes. Hmn...okay. Actually, for added fun, the invite I just received is pot luck - so not only are we to come and spend money so the hostess can get her gifts, we're supposed to feed ourselves! Gotta spend money to make money, err, wait that doesn't work. ACK!

Party Lite - okay, the candles are kinda nice and I get that they last 3000% times longer than other *quality* candles. Here's the thing - I'm a witch. I make my own candles. Yep, even make the non-magical candles for "just around the house, too". I even recycle my half-burned candles into new candles. Joy!

Tupperware - I gave it the Tracker test. If my Basset Hound can eat through it to get to taco meat, it ain't high quality enough for my home. And oy, I still have no idea what the damn toy I got for winning "Tupperware Bingo" does! Tell Tupperware they need a tougher quality control testing labratory, because they are flunking mine.

Passion party - if done by the right person, these are a hoot. Why not? The problem is, they are usually run by these chubby gals with their tummies showing between their too tight pastel cartoon t-shirt and their knock off drop waisted jeans (does anyone in the history of the world find camel toes sexy?), bad local frost job, goofy teenage-wannabees, with really hideous fake designer purses from the NAVY EXCHANGE (Oh, the humanity!) arch neo-conservative gals with those stupid patriot magnets on their SUV from hell. These are the gals the Navy guys marry who are not presentable enough to work at Walmart, that should tell you something.

Two hours worth of CHEMICAL FUN, just lotion after lotion, with one hand for licking, the other for non-edibles. Then come the oddly overly large sex toys - really, if you can fit that in your cooch, I'm now afraid of you! And really, Oak Harbor military folks are really not ready for anal toys. You can tell by the way everyone shrieked into high pitched notes designed to shatter glass and turned green - make a note of it while I put earplugs in. And really, I don't need to know that my husband's co-worker's morbidly obese wife loves the numbing cream and its the "only way to make him last!" And that the fake blonde with the obviously cheap boob job on my left needs clit creme to get off. Seriously, don't need to know that. My hubby doesn't need such a thing, neither do I. Patience, technique, Hitachi's - get some.

*prepared food company* - I admit, I cannot recall the name to this. Here's the thing - I cook. I enjoy cooking. Anyone who whines they don't have time to cook needs to be introduced to the joys of crockpots. If you have time to chat online, you have time to cook - HONEST!

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