••• Sunday, October 31, 2004

Season's Greetings From the House of Sty

From the Do You Love Me, Still? File....

You betchur sweet beskirted ass I do. And I'm proud as hell, too. For now and always.

From the Motown Shop of PR Whorers File....
Trick or Treat
Power is Sweet
Some thang stank
And it ain't your feet.

From the Reluctant Psychic File....
In comments, Beth asked if the nightmares about the house stopped. Yes they did.

There is more to the story though. I initally attributed the nightmare to a physical reaction I had to this same house a few years before I moved into the neighborhood.

The house had been on my jogging route. Several times I experienced a slight disturbance in my breathing when I ran past it. Like a little panic attack. I always blew it off as a subliminal reaction to the house's odd appearance (it was an old farmhouse in the middle of circa 1950's urban sprawl).

A year after my brother shared that tale, the house was sold. After the new owners took over, they did extensive renovations and I had no further reaction to the house. I have had other experiences (I believe, anyway) with the other side, but none with this level of "confirmation."

From the Reluctant Knitter File....
My husband tried to convince me to take a week off from my garter disturbance, to start something of interest. I said nothin' doin'.

I then proceeded with knothin' knittin'. In fact, I've developed a fullblown avoidance reaction to this project. I haven't even sat in "my spot" on the couch all weekend, 'cause, there the current square in progress sits. I have been busy this weekend, but any downtime has been devoted to playing Yahoo's Wordracer, my pre-blogging internet addiction.

But! I Will finish. One Square. Tonight. Promise.
For the record, I'd rather eat a package of last year's circus peanuts. Gag.

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