And by a while, I mean two days. Two whole days without a blog from me. Oh dear, however did you survive? (says the girl who didn't blog for an entire eight-month stretch; yes, I'm laughing at myself.)
My excuse is, the last two days were legitimately busy at work. I was running around dealing with printers and monitors and PS2-type keyboards that may or may not have had a sticky key that was causing the computer to reboot constantly and it doesn't matter anyway because I just stuck a USB keyboard on the desk, plugged it in, and it magically worked. Who knows. I wiped a handful of computers, imaged a handful of computers, and would have ghosted a new colour photocopier but the firmware was newer than the one it was replacing, so I had to put settings in by hand.
I won't judge you if you only understand some of that. I won't even judge you if you don't understand any of that. I am just so nice and non-judgey.
Wednesday I got paid, at last, and I even got to keep some of it for myself. It was nice to finally buy groceries without limiting myself to $20 for a week's worth. Those who know of my paleolithic eating habits will know how bothered I was at having to eat KD and Mr Noodles simply because they're cheap. I bought a bag of breakfasty stuff to try, because why not, and laughed at it - it's ground flaxseed, nothing else, labelled PowerFlax in big red letters, and touted as being sponsors of the BC Lions. Damned Manly Breakfast, I call it, and texture-wise it's like cream of wheat and egg whites had a baby; but it's not bad. For groceries, I still eventually have to pick up some beef and bacon.
I am also tempted, for meat, to go rabbit hunting with my dad, he with his WristRocket and me with Gwenny.
Whoa. Hold up. I haven't mentioned Gwenny on my blog, have I? She got shared on Instagram and Facebook, but she happened during the eight-month Dark Night Of The Blog. The story is, I was researching stuff for fun and profit, and I happened to be researching bows. Like, the kind you shoot. And I researched, and researched, as I do, and I said to myself after the fourth hour, "I can do this."
So I did. I bought a long-enough piece of hickory to even lop off a 12" piece and glue it on the middle for a handle riser; I shaped, sanded, and tillered it, all in my living room; and I bought a couple small spools of B50 Dacron and made a white/black bowstring. All in all, took around 2-3 days. She pulls around 35lbs, which is not bad for a first bow, and I regularly take it into the backyard and kill a particular stump sitting there. I may yet back her with linen or silk cos that will keep her from exploding if she breaks, but for now I'm content.
Anyways, I might take her out and shoot rabbits one Saturday morning. For Science. Yep.
Last night was fun too, but in a less fun way than groceries. My bike's back tire has been flat for the last week and a half or so, but Poor Me has had no money to get a new inner tube, so I've just been hoofing it everywhere. So last night I hoofed it to Canadian Tire to get said new tube, and didn't think beforehand about checking the size I needed. Bought a size too big. But of course, because tires and whatnot are all measured in diameter, not circumference, one inch's size difference in the diameter means it's actually 3.1415926 inches longer around. The end result being, the inner tube was too long to fit inside the tire. So I now have to exchange it for the correct size. I was mad though; it buggered up my plans for the evening, which were, namely, to buy myself a beer and go hang out at my parents' house because bicycle.
And this morning I had an odd dream: I had black corkscrew-curly hair that I had to brush flat before it would behave itself, and the tenants upstairs were digging holes in the walls of, and otherwise dismantling, my bathroom - they said there was a fly behind the wall and they had to get it out because it was bothering them. Then I had my youngest sister over and we went for a walk and passed some people I knew, but they didn't recognise me, and I blame the sunglasses I was wearing. Anyways.
So that brings me, with a terrible and fully unrelated segue, to my final thoughts of the day: I was interested, when I was looking at my blog stats (because I don't know about you, but I am intrigued by the blog visits/views/viewer statistics), to see that my feministic rant from last week is actually among the top five viewed posts on my blog, out of every post I've ever written here. The other four are my comments on pretty boys, on things I smelled one day, on the TV shows I like (though Doctor Who ought to now be at the top of that list), and (oh, the memories) on being a fitting room attendant. I don't know why I find that fascinating, but I do. Partly because people prefer to read particular things over other things, perhaps. At any rate, I'm glad you people appreciated my rant as much as you seem to have. I know one friend said I was her hero as a result of that post, which I am really not sure I deserve, but I'm definitely rather flattered by.
That's it. Toodles!