neversremedy8: (One of Those Days)

When I was a kid, one of my favorite Easter candies was the Cadbury Cream Egg. Long after I'd learned about the bunny's true nature, my mother still enjoyed watching me tear my hair out in search of finding candy-laden baskets every Easter morning. Her abilities to hide baskets should be studied, because I could spend an hour searching, knowing exactly how many baskets I was looking for, and still want to fall to my knees in tears. The tiny one in the teapot, the one hidden inside a winter's coat in her closet during a Californian spring heat wave . . . I still have nightmares sometimes that I won't ever find them all, and the ghosts of the uneaten, stale candy will come after me.

Not really, but what continues to haunt me is the memory of the year I gave up chocolate for Lent. I must have been 11 (Ana's current age) at the time, and my mother knew Cadbury cream eggs were my favorite. Having been excessively good at not consuming the forbidden chocolate, knowing a greater reward awaited me on a far off Sunday, I awoke to be told seven baskets were hiding somewhere within the confines of our three story, split-level house.

When I had found them all (ok, I found five, and had to be told where the last two were hidden), it became readily apparent the majority of my haul consisted of the coveted, gone-all-too-soon Cadbury Cream Egg. Dozens of them. There was other chocolate, and likely one which required the biting off of ears, but I only recall now the hollow-shelled chocolate eggs filled with a creamy, gooey, overly saccharine center.

At first, being true to my age, I devoured several until I began to notice how much my teeth ached, and the "cream" began to taste of corn syrupy death. The last one I had chosen on the first round lay open and oozing into its shredded wrapper on my nightstand, because I couldn't bring myself to finish it. For hours after, my tongue felt sappy and rancid. Thus the cycle began.

I would eat one, and be ok, then another, and start to feel I'd had a bit much. Then the third ended up broken open, its slimy center left to harden into a sticky white and yellow clay. This went on and on, because I felt guilty for not wanting to eat more. So I ate more, and wanted them less, until my bedroom had little stashes of half-eaten Cadbury eggs desperate for someone to finish them off, but they'd become something other than candy. They were reminders of a great shame, of the downside to hedonism and gluttony.

There were two entire baskets that were never even touched. One day, I finally found the courage to collect and toss all of the eggs frozen in their death throes, agonized by their gaping wounds, never to be snuffed out by an awaiting mouth. I threw them all away, including the ones in the baskets. I didn't want to look at them anymore, didn't want to think about them. I drank a lot of water, and curled away from where a single sugary glop had been left by the first one my bedside table. It would take another summoning of courage to scrub it off, and I couldn't find it in my then. Another day, I told myself, and lay stunned.

I haven't eat another Cadbury egg since. Seeing them in grocery and drug stores inspires a touch of nostalgia, until the memory of their flavor brings back that Easter, and I give a little shudder. It was the last Easter I looked for baskets. It was the last Easter I wanted to.

Now, of course, we spend Easter weekends at Norwescon. No longer Episcopalian, we celebrate Ostara/Eostre on the equinox like good little pagans, and I give Ana a small bag or basket of gourmet chocolates. She tried a Cadbury egg once, much to my dismay, but thankfully, found it as unappealing as I do now.

This Easter Sunday, if you're at Norwescon with us, look for Pinkie Pie with my pink basket, and I'll give you a little treat. I promise, it won't be a Cadbury Cream Egg.

Thank you!

Feb. 14th, 2012 10:53 pm
neversremedy8: (Love You)
Thank you to [ profile] aine_willows for my Heart of Glass!

Thank you to [ profile] betsycontent for my gift certificate to Molbak's!

Thank you to [ profile] craigp for my new IKEA futon I've been wanting and needing for many months, and the sushi lunch at Rikki Rikki, despite your illness.

Thank you to [ profile] lotusdragon for my packet of rosa bianca eggplant seeds.

Thank you [ profile] wytchcroft for the virtual hugs.

Dinner tonight was the loveliest, considering none of us were especially attached to today. It just came together in a harmonic flow. I had a burst of inspiration as I made the lamb. I marinated it in red wine, tarragon, paprika, and cinnamon.

It cooked in the pan, covered for nearly two hours. I added water a couple of times. When I went to put the cauliflower and carrots into the oven, I decided the lamb sauce was missing something. So, in went a heaping tablespoon of tomato paste, a dash each of cumin and chili powder, and just a tiny pinch of chipotle powder.

I served the lamb in tiny bowls alongside the roasted vegetables and bowls of salad with lemon tahini dressing. Each plate held three petals from the white rose my daughter gave me, and in the middle petal, a morello cherry from Germany.

We ate, watched Amelie, drank sparkling pear cider, and I brought out the individual desserts I bought: crème brûlée cheesecake for Ana, an eclair for Craig, and a wheat free Alaska Silk turtle pie for me.

Afterward, Ana (in her red cancan skirt and matching top with red roses) and I danced the waltz in the kitchen.

Not too shabby for a day no one was attached to . . . it rather reminded me of my childhood, and how my mother worked very hard to make this day special for me. ^_^
neversremedy8: (Cleverly Disguised)
Dear World,
Never before have I been this far ahead of the game! I may be too sick (sorry to party people, I thought symptoms were allergies!) to make anyone cobbler for Christmas, but all but ten presents are wrapped for tomorrow and Christmas day. (Gwyn helped.) All but 10. That's huge, considering the seasonal disease inherited through my maternal grandfather that requires no less than a dump truck's load of presents be offered to each child in the household.

We only need to buy some lamb and veggies for our Christmas day dinner, wrap those last 10 presents, hang the stockings, and then we're I'm done! The adults in my family (sans parents) will just have to suffer without my scrumptious and delightful prezzies. (Have the packages arrived there in Germany, mom?)

Also, I managed to not kill my child tonight. She will, however, be making a visit to Laughing Buddha after the holidays to purchase an earring to replace the one she lost, and is forfeiting allowance until she's covered the cost for it. I commended her for not losing it for almost three years. That's a fairly big accomplishment for a child who runs through new tights in a day, and loses expensive jewelry in an afternoon.

But yeah, almost done with holiday prep, and still 32 hours left to me! Ha! I'm sleeping in tomorrow morning. Suck it, bishies!

Oh yeah, and happy winter holiday of your choosing.

Jingle All the Way,

I might be sleep deprived and high on lavendar tea. Maybe. Bishie!!!
neversremedy8: (Cindy Lou Who Who Was No More Than Two)

(That's about all the snow I need this year. Whatever I see on YouTube.)

I hope everyone who celebrate Solstice enjoyed it. Our event turned out rather well, despite my own (lack of) health trying to drag me down. I met someone new, shared some gnosh with good friends, and crawled into bed at the late hour of 9:30!

Tomorrow is the big Reavis family gathering complete with Dorito's, oysters, and various meats I don't eat. I already know what I'm getting from my father, and I can't wait to bang on it all winter long. Much wrapping to begin today, and I still have to get a couple of small errands done before the day gets underway.

Still not well, but hopefully I'll be able to breathe clearly by tomorrow night. Something tells me, though, that I won't be able to sing with the others around the piano. :(

Oh yeah, and this is win. ^_^
neversremedy8: (Cindy Lou Who Who Was No More Than Two)

On the twelfth day of Christmas, neversremedy sent to me...
Twelve patterns stargazing
Eleven rogues switching
Ten comics a-cuddling
Nine cartoons being
Eight spirits a-painting
Seven chaos a-singing
Six masques a-flirting
Five bi-i-i-ig cats
Four web comics
Three free spirits
Two open minds
...and liberation in all forms of beauty.
Get your own Twelve Days:

How do patterns stargaze?

How do comics cuddle?

How does chaos sing, let along become a plurality of singers?

Couldn't ask for a better tree-topper though.


EDIT: And if I got 11 rogues* switching, I'm sure I'd lose my head ... I'd be a very happy, very exhausted girl.

*rogues as in back-stabbing, pick-pocketing smooth talkers who dual wield pointy daggers and can charm the knickers off a house wife in two seconds or less. NOT whatever it is Sarah Palin believes the word to mean.
neversremedy8: (Evil Plot)
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Oral sex day! Oh wait, I think that one already exists. Cunnilingus day? It's probably out there as well.

How about the holiday we celebrate every year for the day in U.S. history when the people rose up and demanded and received services that are tantamount to basic human rights: universal health care, living wages, reasonable work hours and six weeks paid vacation (plus paid maternity leave and paid sick leave), free university, and clean housing for all its citizens. Oh, and let's not forget: high quality early education teachers and day cares, and adequate care and respect for our elderly.

We'll call it "About Fucking Time" Day. We can celebrate it every first Tuesday in November as we go to the polls to ensure our freedoms and basic human needs are met each and every day for ourselves and our children.

This will--as you must know--be the day that we give the boot to the corporate lobbyists and radical right nutjobs that seem to think private companies should be bailed out by tax payers' money, women should be denied the right to choose what they do with their bodies and their lives, America is an empire and has the right to invade other countries for their resources, and freedom is a privilege, not a right.

Yeah. Anytime now. I'm waiting. *taps foot* I've got my party hat on and my Guy Fawkes mask at the ready.

A New Year

Dec. 28th, 2001 05:50 pm
neversremedy8: (Default)
I don’t have resolutions, I don’t know when I will achieve my goals (we each develop and grow at our own rates). To place a limit on when I can accomplish something sets myself up for disappointment. Instead, I have goals I will aim for, some I may complete before the year’s end, others will be a continuing journey; an arrow in mid-flight, whirring in the wind, on its way to its mark.

Those goals include:
-Open myself to more social interaction, make new friends, spend more time with the ones I have
-Laugh more, play more
-Continue to write. Perhaps even finish a story (or that damned first draft of our first “Eila Corbin” novel)
-Get my own computer
-Find employment worthy of my skills, and a salary worth my time. Maybe an editor or an editorial assistant?
-Learn to drive (the next step being: buy a car).
-Take more control of the steering, yet flow along with the stream of Life.
-Move into my own apartment and reclaim my belongings!
-End this unwanted celibacy!

I'm looking forward to putting this year behind me, my Christmas day was spent with disappointments and illness. No one showed up, and I had to take Ana to Children's Hospital on Christmas Day. Blah! The Snake is going to do all he can to bite me on the way out.

I'm currently on the phone with a person seeking donations for the McGraw Police Dog programs. Great. It's "only $12". Silly people.
neversremedy8: (Default)
Sera needs to post more to her journal, ::winks:: and I'm looking forward to our little Christmas gathering.

Trying not to lose my mind thinking about Ana in daycare, she cried and wailed, reaching out for me when I left her there. I'm thinking about keeping her there for a full day, so she doesn't expect me to pick her up early tomorrow. Maybe it's better that way. I'm required to search for work 30 hours a week, and here I am at the library, looking for work online. (Qwest DSL is screwing up at the WorkFirst office, joy!)

I feel myself being propelled toward the next phase of my progress, to the next major hurdles that lie in waiting for me to attempt to jump over them. I hope I don't trip... I can't use the word "hope" anymore without a pained thought of Sera, and her new Primary, Hope. No, I'm not jealous, not in anyway I see jealousy, but I am envious of the time and attention she is able to claim from Sera, the security... the bragging rights.

I hate to admit it, but Sera and I really did need our time of separation, just as much as we now need to take things slowly right now, to grow, to mature, to reach personal goals before we're ready to reunite in a more dedicated way. Love, adoration, caring, we have those between us. But we both have old patterns to do away with and new foundations to build (yay for 2002, year of the Horse! can't wait until Feb. 2nd). It will all work out for the best in the end, even in the interim it isn't so bad. Still, I don't like to wait, and if I *just* wait, our goals will never be achieved, the destination I can see in the distance will never arrive unless we're both doing what we must in order to get there.

I continue to write, though much of the "damned book" is being placed on the backburner. I'm writing some scenes which are necessary, but I can no longer continue to write it from start to finish knowing my mistakes across the last eight months. It wouldn't bother me if I had a computer, I could just go into the file, rearrange the text and fix the continuity, but I can't do that in a notebook. So I write little scenes, full of resentment for all the months wasted in writing it out of order, confused, missing important turning points. ::Sighs:: This too shall pass.

I wrote my Christmas letter, though most of those I mail will arrive late (thanks, JCPenney portrait studio!), I'm handing out those that I can on Christmas Eve and Christmas to save on postage and grief. Perhaps now I should look for those jobs, eh? ::smirks:: See? This is me looking for jobs...

"Back in the days when Phil Colins had... Well, no, Phil Colins never had hair."
-96.5, the Point advert.
neversremedy8: (Default)
My Impossible Xmas Wish List

(The list I write every year contrary to the practical and affordable items I ask my family for, it makes me feel better to put it out there. After all, if you know it’s impossible to get, what’s the harm in asking the Universe? I might just get what I wish for... ::winks::)

-jack-booted dominatrix
-omnipotence (though as a consolation present I will accept being able to decide who lives and who dies – if I can’t be god, I’d at least like to exact my revenge)
-a winning lottery ticket worth at least $20 million
-my childhood back
-at least 5 acres (near river and the beach!) and a construction crew who will build my house however I want it
-an AMD Athlon XP 1.8+ GHz processor, 512 MB DDR RAM, 40x DVD drive, 24x10x40 CD-RW, GeForce3 nFinite-FX 64MB DDR Video card, 80 GB ATA/100 hard drive, Black Dragon mid- or full- tower case, 340-Watt power supply, Koolmaxx Video cooling system, 10/100 Network card, MS WinXP, Epson Stylus photo quality printer (1200x2400 dpi), Altec Lansing CS300 speakers/subwoofer, Canoscan N124OU (1200x2400 dpi resolution), wireless 3D gaming glasses, DV.nowAV, and all the software available to write, create graphics and webpages, play my favorite games (EQ, I miss you!), make/edit music, make/edit video, and oh yeah – a DSL modem and service paid up for a year! I have to keep in touch!
-video editing deck
-large, flat screen TV
-anything and everything on my wishlist (look under
-a $10,000 gift certificate to buy Ana prezzies at Toys R Us
-a harem (I’d settle for a stable, but a nice gender mix is preferable)
-the cute cure, Corinne, we met at the bus stop, tied with a pink ribbon – I’ll keep her in the basement and feed her little bits of cheese.
-my GrandMarie’s sapphire rings, or heck, my GrandMarie!
neversremedy8: (Default)
The hunt continues. Of course I know I need to find one soon, place Ana in a safe environment so I can work, but it's hard for me to go through this part of the process. To actually find the daycare. I don't have trouble after she's in daycare looking for work. It's this step, interviewing what few daycare facilities are available to us (some have waiting lists up until September 2004!), and trying to get her to understand I'm not leaving forever, just for more than half of each week. ::sighs:: I hate giving her up to this, but I am required to find work, spend 40 hours a week doing it, and eventually work 40 hours a week. How do I manage? ::shakes head:: I just have to do it. No matter how much it hurts.

On another note, yesterday Ana had her pictures taken for Christmas, and while I set up the appointment based on a C.S.R.'s assurance that I would get the pictures back in time for sending the Christmas cards -- they lied. I found out after having her pictures done, and paying them, that they won't be ready until the 22nd (Saturday), after the post offices close, which means I wouldn't be able to send them out until the 24th, ensuring that the letters and pictures wouldn't reach anyone until after Christmas. ::growls:: We'll see if I can make them work a little faster, but it may not work out the way I want it to. ::sighs:: Ah, well.
neversremedy8: (Default)
We've got a lot to say, and I'm pretty sure, no one's reading this (ok, maybe a couple of people, but...) It isn't strange to write to a computer anymore, I'm sure a decade ago, it felt slightly strange using a journal on the computer, but here I am, posting, with the potential for everyone with a computer and internet access reading it. Where am I going with this? I'm not sure either...

Finally talked with Sera, in fact, she came over Monday and spent some time, helped with more brainstorming ideas for our ever-frustrating novel, and played with Ana. Of course, she did not forget to bring the requisite tribute to our little goddess, a "MEGA" pack of diapers, the next size up! She's growing fast.

We talked extensively, though most of it involved writing, we still managed to converse about some of the issues which I found most important. We also managed to get in some cuddle time while Ana slept, a very warm, relaxing experience. At a few points I believe Sera fell asleep, but that's alright, it felt nice with Ana snuggled against me, and Sera behind me, with her arm wrapped around us both. Sweet, gentle, and W-A-R-M ... mmmm ...

Thanksgiving: Ana and I spent a short time at my Aunt Rosemary's for a traditional turkey dinner with all those family members who'd rather I not talk. ::smiles:: Anastasia stole their attention, and entertained all. Even my first cousins (all boys between the ages of 12-20) enjoyed her antics. Dinner was pleasant, but I did feel rushed as they ordered a taxi for us and sent us on our way. ::sighs:: Ah, well, what did I expect from an (soap) opera? A happy ending? We did get sent home with left overs... num... and Ana's definitely a "dark meat eater." ::giggles::

On Saturday (the 17h?), I had a very strange dream which prompted me to begin drawing prototypes for my own line of dildos... before anyone can gasp... ::pulls out her official "Kinky Pervert" badge:: I am a card carrying member! It's ok! ::surreptitious smile::
So, on Sera's suggestion, I'm going to post the details of said dream:

I have no home, and much of civilization seems to be detroyed. The only companion I have is a very large, possessive male tiger. We roam from place to place, and whenever I encounter danger, the tiger attacks those who would do me harm. Before nightfall I always manage to find a place to sleep ... always sweet small rooms with a bed and guazy curtains blowing in the open windows. Each room we find is cream or white, with little specks of vibrant colour. Outside almost every window is a private garden, filled with purple and white flowers and green all around. The flora is lush and thick. Each night, after finding our room, I would lay down, and the tiger would climb atop me ... for a large wild cat, he was fairly gentle ... (feel free to infer what you may into what happened next). ::wistful sigh:: Alice never had it so good in Wonderland ...


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