God Bless Geeks
I am writing this post from my papasan, on my laptop. Yes, friends and neighbors, I bought a wireless router–ostensibly for the Sullen Teen, but so far I’ve been the one to use it the most. I am listening to my Pandora radio stations while typing, and so far it has been lovely. I can flip back and forth between email and actual writing, and if I need to send something I can do it right from my laptop instead of a jump drive physically carried to my PC.
Ah, laziness. Thy name is Lili.
Special thanks goes out to Crab Caution, who came and checked the setup after I went officially on the rampage and informed every person I lived with that I was unhappy, that I was going out to dinner, and that I fully expected every single one of them to tidy up while I was gone. I didn’t care what they tidied, as long as they tidied something, and when I returned I would be in a better mood.
That was Saturday evening–the same Saturday we brought the Sullen One’s old black cat home to live with us. He is declawed and a very mellow beastie, and has integrated into the household with a minimum of fuss. So that’s good, but it was stressful.
And Saturday night, after I got home from an absolutely lovely dinner, was a St. Patty’s Day Blowout. (Note to the Martian Moon Crab: your kitten card was an absolute scream. I laughed myself hoarse.) A Romanian friend of the DHM’s had brought him something like Romanian apple brandy, I believe.
I am here to tell you, friends and Readers, Romanian liquor is nothing to fool around with. It could literally crawl out of the bottle and sock you silly. What I did not realize upon commencing my drinking (we had friends over to watch a Certain Movie which shall remain nameless since it was so very…well, the less said the better) is that the bottle, deceptively skinny and small, held liquor that was literally 100-proof.
Yes, read that again. That statement has been verified by the DHM. It was 50% alcohol.
I am surprised I am not blind. But the real kicker was the sake I drank beforehand, I think. I did not pass out but I did not sleep well, and Sunday morning was…interestingly painful. I am too old for that ever again.
The funniest part of this happened Sunday afternoon, when I stopped at the local health-food place on my way out to visit some friends. Day after St. Patrick’s, and I decide in a fit of remorse to go check on the milk thistle and detox section again. I figure after the night I’d just spent, my liver would want some help.
What to my wondering eyes should appear but a completely pillaged detox section. Apparently liver guilt was widespread this weekend. Hee.
Well, back to work. We are writing right along, footloose and fancy free. Further bulletins as events warrant…
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