Spontaneous late night date nights. Best thing of the week. :)

When I say Family you think of....?

Peeps,
Went to the SF library today, my significant other took me as was promised. Taking me to the library will reduce me to random bouts of smiliness (that's not a word is it? smiliness, I'm making that one up right?) and girlish overtures very quickly. It really is like taking me to an enchanted land. After going through my mental booklist that I keep, and by default checking out other books in those same sections, I made it out with 27 books. A good haul if I say so myself. (sidenote: wow haven't had a sidenote in awhile, anywho, as I sit here writing this my sweetie scolded me for leaving the I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter butter out, and then proceeded to lick it to make sure it hasn't gone bad...yeah I know laughs :) ) Anywho one of the books I grabbed is a compilation of short stories all based around the question of family and what makes a family. A topic that you know I'm highly interested in, if you frequent my blogs. It was heartwarming, and sometimes brutally honest to read these stories of other people's lives and how they had swam through deep waters of how to make their own family.
As I've said before and I'll probably say again, blood nor marriage nor any other superficial bond that humans try to put on each other without a basis for it does not make a family. I have family, some made by blood, other by deep friendship and an almost boderline unhealthy trust/love, some by odd circumstance, and some I'm realizing by the most unconventional methods. Family isn't that odd cousin you've never met and barely know the name of, it isn't that odd twice removed Uncle that sends you a random postcard. Family is the friend who listened to you cry over a great loss, it's the friend who though distanced by miles FedEXed you a care package, it's the friend you can never seem to sever ties with because to do so would break your heart. Family is the rabbit, that after a long harrowing day of life, has made you burst into full belly laughter with his crazy antics and light hearted look at life.
Family in any of its forms is completely irreplaceable, completely undeniable, and completely worthwhile once you've found it.

There are defined moments in my life where I wish. There aren't enough shooting stars in the sky for what I wish.

The Curve

Peeps,
If there's one thing about summer that I can always count on, it's that all the closet sluts come out. It's like Puxatawny Phil but en masse. Let me explain. Summer is when most of the girl population can find an excuse to wear short shorts, boob tank tops, and just about every other piece of skin revealing clothing they have saved up at the back of their closet. The excuse...well it's hot of course. And when the sun comes out there is a surplus of scantily clad girls, all dressed appropriately for the weather. Now I'm not excluding myself from these girls, because gods know I have enough scant wear to last me through winter, and I'd wear it too, if it werent' for Humboldt being so damn cold. Anywho my point being, you can usually see a girl's back either because it's exposed or the shirt on it is taut across it. And if there's one thing I can't resist oogling it's the back curve.

The back curve (which should be self explanatory) is the curve that starts at the base of the neck and ends right before the butt crack. Whatever evoluationary design decided the back curve was needed should get an award. It's even better when the girl has their hair up, then the whole expanse of the back is free to be oogled, and oogled it gets. I can't help it, there's something so dangerously sensuous about the back curve. Guys can say all they want about boobs or butt, but the back curve definitely makes me imagine my hand running along it.

It's not just girls either, guys have the back curve, and luckily for me, most regular guy shirts show it off just as nicely. When guys lean over, even just slightly, the shirt stretches across their back, and hello back curve. Sometimes I literally have to restrain myself from running a hand alongside some poor bystander guy. It's pretty bad when I have to give a minute to fully soak in the back curve of a guy friend (sorry guys lol you know who you are) especially since I only really see them when I'm with my boyfriend. It's even more scintillating when I realize I've been checking out the same girl as my boyfriend, though this rarely happens as we have widely different tastes in our women.

All in all, the back curve is a wicked design by nature, specifically made (in my opinion) to drive me to distraction and keep me drooling in a haze not knowing what hit me. I can't wait for winter clothes. ;)

The Pool a.k.a Kitty No I Won't Give You Noms!

Hey Peeps,

I've been wondering all day what to write about, should I research something for you, or just blather endlessly about nothing in particular. However as most writers will come to find, the answer to inspiration often comes from everyday situations.

So for the last two days, my sweetie and I have been going to the pool around 10 pm to go swimming. Yesterday we had a blast and were looking for a repeat performance today. Getting there, I took my glasses off (thus making every definable shape around me an amorphous blob), and proceeded to get into much cooler water than I expected. After successfully immersing ourselves into the water we treaded for a bit. As I was occupied trying to swish a dead bug out of my hair (I swear this was the one time I took my hair band out to let my hair down instead of in a ponytail and every dead thing in the pool had to magnetize toward it) my sweetie suddenly swam towards me with an undefinable look on his face (probably because I couldn't really make out his face). This conversation then ensued.

Him: I just picked up a mouse.

Me: What?

Him: I just picked up a mouse. Right now.

Me giving him a look: I don't understand how this happened.

Him: I thought it was a pinecone so I picked it up and it was soft and squishy, so I freaked out and plopped it outside the swimming pool. Its not dead its leg was twitching.

Me: (Shudders) I'm sorry?

Him: I want to leave the pool now. It was in the water and I had my mouth open in here and everything, ew ew!

Me: Ew gross why would you have your mouth open in the...raccoon.

Him: What? (Looks where I'm looking) There's a raccoon over there.

Me starting to swim backwards away from the raccoon: Yeah I know. I saw it creep under the pool gate.

Him: What if it gets in the water? Can raccoon's even swim?

Me: I think they can. Surely not faster than us though.

Him: Great now we're going to get raccoon rabies.

So for the next twenty minutes we treaded water in the middle of the pool as the raccoon circled the pool. Finally when we hadn't seen it in a while we darted out, grabbed our stuff, and headed home for a shower. So not only did we have a weird mouse encounter, we then went on to be sheep herded by a raccoon that was probably just trying to dip its food in the water.

(Raccoon's don't have salivary glands) We come home (we are still house sitting) to a cat named Marbles that of late has been a very vocal cat. Read: The cat cries all the time and follows you if you're headed to the bathroom where she has a bowl in which she receives treats (noms). My sweetie (shhh don't tell him I said it, but he's a secret cat loving person) and I give her about seven noms a day between the two of us. That's a lot of noms for a cat. Still the cat cries for more. In her deviousness she will head bump your legs, and weave through them, letting you pet her and purring as if to say 'see I'm a friendly adorable cat...now give me noms!' We frequently tell her no. Going to the bathroom is a problem because she follows you in and cries. So we cry back, "Kitty, no I won't give you noms!"

It's All in the Ears

Hey peeps,

Just realized I oddly capitalized 'All' in my title. Too lazy to change it so y'all have to live with it. Had a nice relaxing (been using that word a lot lately) day. I also had one of those cross-species understandings that happen every now and then. Let me explain. My rabbit Hophops is a pretty self confident bun. He knows his place in the world with more assurance than I will ever hope to know. He has absolutely no qualms about putting me in my place when he thinks I've deserved it, or shunning me when I've made a bunny faux-pas. If you have rabbits or cats, you'll have noticed (specially with a male) that they tend to scent mark things by rubbing their chin on it. Hops is no different and will (with attitude) happily scent mark most anything he deems to be his. This list usually includes, shoes with or without people in them, corners or walls, books, any toy on the floor, any furniture, treats, basically anything on the floor he can reach. I've even watched him repeatedly scent mark a cousin of his the infamous, dust bunny. When I did finally remove the dust bunny I watched Hops go over to the spot and mark the area it was in. Suffice it to say he's pretty territorial. When I poke my fingers in between the bars of his cage for a head rub he usually rubs back, sufficiently scent marking my appendages. Normally, I tend to watch my other rabbit Socks as Hops licks and scent marks my fingers. Today however, I stared right into his eyes and an understanding passed between us. The word, Mine, passed between us. I can't help but agree more that I am his. Most bunny owners will tell you it's all in the ears, their secret language. You can tell most if not all, of their emotions by their ears. I agree that the ears have a lot to do with it, but I could stare into Hoppers' big, clear, confident, brown eyes and argue that their eyes say it all.

A vacation from all this vacationing

Peeps,

Yours truly finally has internet for the week, so I'll hopefully be posting through the week. I'd tell you what's happening with my computer, but suffice it to say the words: virus, computer-HIV, total annihilation, and mass terror pretty much sums it up. I mean I barely had the thing up and running for less than two hours before the apocalypse landed on my screen. Those words could also sum up my boyfriend's computer, so we've been completely internet-less for probably only a week and half, but in internet time that's almost twelve years.

Today my sweetie and I packed up and headed to Pittsburg, CA. We're house sitting for a friend. Read: We are going to be absolute bums for a week and do nothing but vegetate. It's funny how even when I'm on summer break, it never really seems like I'm doing any relaxing. I have to go away from my 'relaxing' to actually get any real relaxation. Strange. As I sat in the passenger seat with my sweetie driving down the highway, I looked about my surroundings and gave a little smile. Here I was with my boys (boyfriend and two bunnies) driving to a house I call one of my homes, to do nothing but take a breathe of life. Instantly I felt more refreshed. I felt, like at that moment I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I needed to and wanted to do. I savor those little moments of clarity. They're rare, but gratifying when they happen.

Went to an orchid nursery today. There was one moment where I realized I was walking amongst a plethora of plant sex organs. Very odd.