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Anyways, is it nature or nurture?
Think there’s such a thing as a packrat gene?
My paternal grandmother is a packrat extraordinaire. Everything gets saved for future usage, no matter how useless the item might seem to the casual observer. Empty cracker boxes? Wonderful little storage bins. Old phone books? Fantastic place to stash some emergency cash. Admittedly, my grandmother is a bit of an extreme case - before leaving her home for an assisted care living facility, she had complete sets of dinnerware and flatware and a wardrobe’s worth of clothing, all unused, brand new in their packaging, because she didn’t see a need to replace the old stuff yet, but didn’t want to give up the new stuff, so she stashed it.
My father, while lamenting my grandmother’s, erm, skills, also shows signs of having some serious packrat skills. My mother has to do a fair bit of talking to convince him to throw things away, be they clothes, utensils, whatever.
And me? I think I may have some packrat tendencies too. After years of ensuring that I always have contact lens solution and extra lenses on hand, now that I no longer require either, I still can’t bring myself to throw away what I have. Even if my eyes regress and I end up needing corrective lenses again, it won’t be the same prescription as what I had before I got my eyes fixed. Plus, with the reshaping of the cornea, chances are excellent that I wouldn’t be able to wear the same contacts that I wore before. So, really, my stash of spare lenses is really, really useless.
And yet, I’m not discarding them… unlike the cases!!!
Anyways, enjoy this 1by-day gallery, and don’t forget about GirlsAreSexy if you’re just after porn!
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Anyways, you need to know when to fold ‘em
Today, I learned how to play poker. Well, to be perfectly honest, I had a vague notion of how the game worked, but I must stress the vague bit - it amounted to people being dealt cards, then putting chips worth money into a pot, and whoever has the best hand gets the money in the pot. Like I said - vague and sketchy.
I suppose I could be more specific - today I learned how to play Texas Hold’em. I know that in other varieties of poker, players are each dealt five cards, and can exchange however many they want to try to get a better hand with which to win. In Texas Hold’em, each player is only dealt two cards, and then five cards are placed face up on the table, and players make the best hand possible out of the communal table cards and their own cards.
Now before anyone out there panics with mental images of me wandering naively into a Vegas poker room and plunking down my money on the table and asking the wannabe professional sharks to teach me how to play - basically, inviting them to just take my money - I learned among friends, with no real money involved. We took an at-home poker game set purchased from a Casino giftshop, divided the chips up evenly among ourselves, and played until someone went bust. So no one made any easy money off of my innocence.
I learned some important things - other than what the big blind and little blind are, that is. I learned that I should never participate in non-friendly poker games. I don’t know if I’m a good bluffer or not - though I strongly suspect that I’m a terrible bluffer. A joyous wiggle is probably a pretty big tell, and I’m pretty sure a dejected slump is equally big on the tell-o-meter. But James Bond said that being good at poker is all about being able to read the other players, and not about the hand you’re dealt by chance. I have a feeling that I wouldn’t be great at reading other people - that whole avoiding eye contact thing is a bit of a hindrance. But as I was playing tonight, I realized that I’m only willing to play the hand that I’ve got - that is, I’ll gamble, but my mindset is always such that I’m gambling on my chances of getting a good hand, and not the chances that whatever hand I can get is better than what the other players have. Tonight, I didn’t even really try to bluff anyone into folding out of a hand - as soon as I realized I could never win with the cards on the table and the cards in my hand, I folded.
So don’t watch for me in those big time televised poker tournaments - you won’t see me there.
That being said, I had fun playing tonight. I won a couple of hands - because I had good hands. Once I had a flush, ace high. Once I had a full house. And as soon as I was ahead of where I started in our chip counts, I wanted to grab all my chips and cash out!!!
Okay guys, it’s Friday again… Doesn’t it seem like the Friday’s are flying by??? In honour of this one, and because of the lame shaving pussy gallery I posted yesterday, it’s time to post something a little harder - a goth teen getting gangbanged!!! This goth gangbang gallery is from a new site - aptly named, gothgangbang.. I believe you get access to 15on1 and group teen casting with a membership there…
Eitherway, goth teens getting gangbanged is hot!
Anyways, changing gears…..
For the past few days, I’ve been living quite the lifestyle - luxuriating in fancy hotel beds, sleeping late, tootling around casinos and fancy shops, returning to my hotel room finding it all spic and span, tidied up to the nines - complete with perfectly made beds! Then I get all gussied up and head out for some amazing live show.
Yes, I’ve been living the high life.
So I’m becoming concerned about how I’m going to handle it when it comes to be time to return to my regular life. Waking up before noon? Boo. Making my own bed and having to clean up after myself again? Lame. No more fantastic evening shows? How boring.
I’m also wondering what hyper oxygenation withdrawal is like. I’m pretty sure they’re pumping extra oxygen into the casino air - as soon as I get down there, I perk up almost instantly. And no, I don’t think it’s the flashing lights and tinkling chimes of the slot machines. My eyes go a little wonky as I step off the elevator, actually. I suspect there will be a period of adjustment once I return to a place where the atmosphere is, well, normal.
I’m also starting to suspect that there may also be appetite suppressants pumped into the air somehow - I’m barely eating anything and I don’t feel like I’m starving - which makes me worry that I might leave the strip to head home and suddenly NEED to stop at some all-I-can-eat everything buffet and just clean out all their warming trays.
So as much fun as this vacation is, there’s a chance that I may emerge from it a mere shell of the person I am now, struggling to breathe in the Earth’s naturally occurring relatively oxygen poor atmosphere as I sluggishly scarf down any food item I lay eyes on.
Maybe it would be better if I just stayed. I wonder if I could work out some sort of residence deal with the hotel????
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Anyways, the brattiness of my right eye has officially subsided - who’d have thought I’d be so happy to hear the words “No DLK”? I can now wean myself off the medicated drops - guess you can’t just stop cold turkey - and return to my regular grooming routine.
That being said, brattiness continues in other areas - apparently, my left eye is showing signs of being allergic to the artificial tear drops I’ve been using - allergic to the preservative, that is. So I had to run around finding more preservative-free drops - I had to visit three different stores to get a single box of thirty minims. Nuisance!!!
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Okay guys, time for a little more of this sexy young latina hottie, Selina18!! I apologize for the censoring.. they provide them to me that way… On Selina18’s website, you can see it fully uncensored, and download the complete video!! She’s still kind of hot!!!
Anyways, up until I had my vision correction procedure, I believed that I needed makeup in order to be publicly presentable. I’m not talking about huge amounts of pancake makeup so that my appearance is drastically altered - just a little so that I look less like I’ve just rolled out of bed and pulled on whatever items of clothing I stumbled upon first.
For nearly three weeks now, though, I haven’t used any makeup at all. Well, okay, I snuck on a little eye makeup to go to that wedding - no mascara though - and I’ve occasionally slipped on some lip gloss. Other than that, I’ve been showing my face to the world as it occurs naturally.
Now, a small insane part of me really expected infants to burst into tears upon seeing me, and for small children’s jaws to drop in shock and horror as they point and ask their parents what was wrong with me. In reality, had that happened, they likely would have been talking about the slight bruising on the whites of my eyes that made my eyes just look really bloodshot for almost a week. At any rate, none of this has happened yet. This has made me wonder if I could eliminate makeup from my daily routine - I’d save myself some prep time in the morning, and some cleanup time at night. Not lots, but every little bit counts, right?
That being said, I know the limits of my own vanity, which means that as soon as I get the go-ahead from the ophthalmologist, I’m going to slip quietly back into my usual routine.
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Anyways, I am highly entertained and amused by this little cartoon I stumbled upon….
I think part of what I find so amusing is the recognition that I am that cat - I must admit, with a small degree of shame and a surprising degree of bizarre pride, that I have engaged in every single form of behaviour exhibited by this cat. Not in the sense of, oh yes, I’ve been very persistent in trying to get someone’s attention. I mean I’ve done what that cat does in a very literal way - I’ll plunk myself down next to someone and make random noises until that person is forced to pay attention to me. I’ve been known to engage in mild mischief making to get attention. I’ll stick my head in front of yours to block your view of whatever. I’ll move potentially distracting things out of your reach, and then be an obstruction to your retrieving them. I don’t think I’ve done them all together like this cat does, but it’s probably been pretty close. I showed this animation to someone near and dear to me, and he said he could really relate to the cat owner.
Yet more evidence that I must have been a cat in a past life. If you believe in that sort of thing!!!
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Anyways, are you sick of my eyes yet?? I hope the answer is no, because we have yet another ocular update for you today.
I had another checkup this afternoon…. I saw a different ophthalmologist - I’ve seen one three out of the five times I’ve been in, including my consultation, and two different ones for the remaining two appointments. I like the more regularly seen one the best of them all - I really wasn’t overly impressed with the one I saw yesterday. But whatever.
I’m not in the clear yet - I’m still using the stronger corticosteroid drops in my right eye, but the dosage is tapering off now - I’m still on every two hours today, but tomorrow I go down to four times a day. My next checkup is later in the week. I hope I get the ‘regular’ doctor then.
In other, unrelated news - that crucial piece of the TV came back today! Ah, the return to old habits. How gloriously comforting…. Obviously my IPhone is charging all day/night!!!!
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BTW - in case you’re curious, I didn’t attend a bachelorette party on the weekend.. I was just invited to the ceremony!
Anyways, Summer is wedding season. As I mentioned, I was at a wedding…..
It was actually one of the more enjoyable weddings I’ve been to, because the groom, who I knew prior to the wedding date, is a goofball, and as it turns out, the bride, who I met the day of the wedding, is also a goofball. There was much entertaining giggling and hamming during the ceremony and reception, which kept the mood light and fun. Instead of having the groom and groomsmen wait at the front of the church while the bridesmaids and bride enter down the aisle, everyone had a turn walking down the aisle, and when the groom entered, he waved his arms around as if he were a boxing champ approaching the ring for a fight. When we got to the “speak now or forever hold your piece” bit, the groom raised his eyebrows at the assembled crowd, shook his fist a little, and the bride made that little “cut” slashing motion at her neck. Booze flowed freely at the reception, setting the stage for the stories that were told in the name of entertainment during toasts - the groom described the first time the bride met his parents, his father had had a few beers in him, and had essentially told her that “though his son may not have much money, at least he’d never beat her”. The groom then thanked his new wife for sticking around. After dinner, there was dancing, and dancing, and dancing - after the reception itself closed down, the party was moved to the bar next door.
I think everyone had fun, which is what these things are all about, right? Oh, and the happy couple embarking on a new and exciting journey together. Nah, scratch that, it’s just an excuse to have a big party.
It still wasn’t as exciting as the Partyhardcore gallery from above… but it was fun ^_^
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Anyways, you know how a few days ago, I blogged about my dislike of fees, and said something about my hatred being like the burning heat of a thousand suns?
Well, I dislike spiders even more.
My last apartment was in a building that was apparently constructed over the spawning ground of all the spiders of the world - the nasty little freaks were everywhere. I got into the habit of doing spider checks whenever I moved from one room of the apartment to another - quick furtive glances at all four corners of the room’s ceiling, to see if any of the hairy creatures were waiting to drop down on me, their helpless prey. You’d think living in such conditions would toughen me up so that I was no longer so put off by spiders. Instead, the toughening occurred in other domains - I lost my fear of karmic retribution for killing spiders. As a child, a friend told me that it was bad luck to squish a spider - presumably her parents had told her this to keep her from merrily squishing every spider she happened across, as spiders are beneficial insects, they eat other pests. My thinking while living at the spider birthing grounds developed along these lines - spiders are only beneficial when they’re outside, where they can spin their webs and actually catch these other pests. Inside, these pests are not to be found - at least, I don’t grow gnats in my home. So any spider that has been silly enough to seek food and shelter in my home is likely going to die anyway, so I may as well save it the agony of starving to death. Besides, this way I don’t have to look at the ugly sucker while it dies.
One day, while living in the apartment that spiders built, I walked out to my car to discover that some enterprising but foolish spider had spun a web inside my car - the web stretched between the steering wheel and the driver’s side door. I wonder whatever happened to that spider. I’m pretty certain s/he didn’t catch anything on that web.
Yesterday, I discovered a small spider in my bathroom. To my credit, I did not freak out, I did not shriek, I did not stumble backwards out of the bathroom and refuse to enter until the spider was gone. I guess I am a bit tougher. What did I do? I stared it down for about 30 seconds. It wasn’t moving, and I thought it was entirely possible that the beast was asleep. Since leaving the birthplace of all spiders, I must shamefully admit that my fear of karmic retribution has returned somewhat - I didn’t want to squish the spider if I didn’t have to. Granted, I’ve never liked squishing spiders - especially the bigger ones, electrocution by bug zapper is the way to go with those - but this one was pretty small, and I still wanted to avoid squishing it. I decided that since it appeared to be asleep, I’d scoop it up in some toilet paper and flush it away. In all likelihood, it’d die by drowning, but at least I wouldn’t have squished it, so perhaps karmic retribution could be avoided.
Apparently, spiders are light sleepers. Either that or it wasn’t really asleep. I scooped it up, but it started running around in the toilet paper. Startled, I dropped the whole bundle, then quickly picked up the tissue to see the spider scurrying along the floor. I made a grab for him, squishing him in the process. So much for no squishing.
Well. At least he’s gone now. He would have starved to death there anyway - my bathroom isn’t exactly a high traffic area for flying insects. Thankfully.
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Anyways, no TV makes this girl go a little loopy, it would seem…
Yesterday morning, a TV repairman came by to take a look at my TV. It’s a rear projection dealie I’ve had for a few years now, and the extended warranty is about to expire - as in, the warranty is no more as of July 14. So since the unit’s been having some convergence issues for a while now as well as some red seepage, it seemed wise to have it looked at while the extended warranty would still cover the costs.
So the fellow shows up, and I’ve rearranged a few furniture items so that the TV can be pulled away from the wall, and I show him the convergence issues - unfortunately, the red seepage is really only visible in the dark, which means I couldn’t show him that with sunlight streaming in through the window, and my window coverings are not so opaque that all light is obliterated. Still, he saw the convergence issue, and he settled in to work behind the TV. I settled onto the couch and worked on a yarn cake.
After a while, he gets up and goes out to his vehicle to retrieve something, then returns and gets back to it. A little while after that, he gets up and reemerges from behind the TV with what I’m guessing is the TV equivalent of a motherboard in his hands. He shows me a couple of chips on one side, saying that these things are what he thinks need to be replaced in order to resolve the convergence issue.
He then tells me that he’s taking this bit of the TV with him, and since this weekend is a long weekend, I shouldn’t expect to hear back from the shop until Wednesday of next week, and when I do hear back from them, it’ll be to arrange for a time when they can come in and put this piece back in the TV.
I was not expecting that at all. I figured that someone would come, look at the TV’s display, and then tinker with it, either in some super top secret settings mode, or by fiddling with things inside the TV. I really had no basis for this expectation, but there it was all the same. I didn’t think they’d actually have to remove a piece and take it away, leaving me with a non-functioning TV for several days!
So I’ve now been almost 36 hours without a TV. I must admit, during the day, I don’t really notice, because I don’t use the TV during the day - I’m either out and about running errands, or I’m parked in front of my laptop. The evenings, though - that’s my usual TV time, and so far it’s been rough. I don’t know what to do while I’m eating! I can’t knit, because I need my hands for eating. I can’t read, because I lose my spot on the page when I look away to look at my food. And trust me, I need to look at my food as I eat. It’s not that I’m so clumsy I’ll accidentally eat a chunk out of my arm or something. It’s that I like to see what my next bite is going to be, and I tend to examine my food rather carefully while selecting that bite. I cannot wolf blindly. So I look away from my reading, and I lose my spot, and when I manage to find it again it’s time for another bite, and then I lose my spot again, and after a few repetitions of this pattern I get thoroughly fed up and just shove the reading aside. So reading while eating is out. What’s left?
Listening to yourself chew your food while you eat. That’s about it.
I miss my TV…. I guess I’ll just have to settle for watching porn ^_^