The Demonweasel Speaks

Kenzie is working late, so I’m enjoying a big ‘ol bowl of oatmeal for dinner. Mmm-mmm good. It’s funny, because sometimes dinner becomes this dance of “Oh jeez, we have to eat again don’t we? And we’re tired of everything that we know how to make or make appear here, aren’t we?” And then we scratch our heads trying to come up with new and inventive solutions. Which is fun for me because I like to cook for her. Just the other night I attempted a stir fry for the first time and it turned out not to suck. Then, to accompany the stakes I was making, I fried up some vegetables as a side (at her suggestion) and that turned out not to suck either. I may be on some kind of a roll here. But for now, oatmeal, because I’m lazy.

I finally figured out how to mess around with the layout of this thing, so I know I can plug and play layouts like nobody’s business, and Kenzie used her photoshop skills to make my new banner (which was loosely based on what I did before, but she made it, y’know, not suck). It takes forever to load on dial-up, so I really need to do something to it, but I like it too much to change it to anything else. Everyone I know has high-speed, anyway.

I was checking my tracker data and found people coming here looking for “Wicked Weasel Wednesdays.” Now, even more of them will. Turns out it’s some porn thing, so talk about disappointment. Ah, the search engine dance, and all its elaborate mystery.

Am I writing more? Why yes, thank you for asking. If I don’t have a more acceptable draft by the end of the month I may end up giving up the whole thing all together and move on to something else. What, I have no idea, but I’m so fucking sick of this book and want to do something else, but I’m not going to throw 98,000 or so words that may not entirely suck away with the literary bathwater.

This oatmeal needs raisins. Raisins, I do not have.

Is work going better? Yes, it is, kind reader. After a month of soul-crushing stress about our new layout, grumpy old people snarling “I don’t like it, I knew where everything was before,” (because you supposedly like this store, but the concept of spending more time here is frightening, and how dare you change things around after a mere 19 years), realizing what works and what doesn’t and dealing with an owner who’s not 100% satisfied, things have leveled out. It will be a good summer. If not, I’m shit out of luck.

I just found something odd and plastic in my oatmeal. This…disturbs me.

I likey me shows. Kenzie and I are watching, currently: Lost, 24, Boston Legal, Desperate Housewives, Big Love, Scrubs, American Idol and Deal or no Deal. Yes, I’m watching Idol. We also watch the Sopranos, although it’s not exactly her favorite, but she’s lovely and she watches it with me anyway.

We’ve also been getting back into the habit of going to the movies, which is nice because pretty much for all of January and February there was nothing to see, and March was no great shakes either. After King Kong we went to go see Memoirs of a Geisha, The Libertine, V for Vendetta and…maybe something else? Baby, help me out here. There’s a slew of things we’d like to rent at this point, or catch on PPV all too numerous to mention. Yeah, we likey the movies, too. We have to turn the DVDs horizontal instead of vertical on the shelf to fit them all now, as we have…a lot. And it seems we can’t go near Best Buy without picking up one or two more (last trip: the aforementioned Kong, Memoirs of a Geisha and Spirited Away. Which we have yet to even watch, but we’re saving it to watch with Allie, and we watched Kong with her yesterday. Which she slept through.).

This big bowl of oatmeal, it may be…too big.

I’ve been on this weird wave of positivism lately, feeling like it’s time to start moving and shaking the nitty gritty of our lives. Crazy things like wanting to buy a house and start our own business, while all the time in the back of my head trying to figure out how to pay for a wedding. Nothing too lavish, maybe just lavish enough.

In lieu of gifts, the bride and groom ask you just send us money. Now.

Okay, I’m kidding, we still want gifts.

Don’t blame me, that’s the oatmeal talking.

Kenzie just walked in, looked at what I was writing, looked at the oatmeal and went, “You’re right, that is too big.”