January 15, 2000
I really tried to sleep in today. I managed to go back to sleep after John left the bed, but I don't think I stayed more than an hour. I woke up and found John done with his ride for the day. So I hopped onto the exercise bicycle, and peddled merrily away. Afterwards we made English muffins with eggs and Canadian bacon for breakfast with mugs of the strong, Blue Mountain coffee.
For the last two or three days Fezzik has been somewhat listless, going fairly slowly from here to there, and generally looking tired. I am not sure why, and he doesn't have a fever or seems to be in any pain. He just seems tired, or sad, I am not at all sure how to read how he feels. Today, however, he seemed to really enjoy the fact that we were both home. One of the things I love to do best is just sit on the ground and he walks into my arms, leans his head against my chest and sighs happily, leaning against me, as I rub the back of his neck and behind his ears and along his shoulders. My knees support him to either side so he can just lean and relax. We can spend twenty minutes like that, and it's sweet knowing that he wants the affection enough to come to me for it when I sit.
Playoff football is going on all week, and I intend to watch the vast majority of the time or at least listen on the radio. The morning game today was a complete blowout, and I was almost glad to the Seahawks were beaten last week rather than face the kind of humiliation that the Dolphins went through today. Once the third quarter was through I had a craving for chicken wings, so I hopped into the Passat and drove off in the vague direction of Safeway. Forgetting that the grid didn't quite meet in certain sections, I went probably four miles out of my way, but since I wasn't in any hurry the drive in the sunshine was very pleasant. I got my stuff and went back home and I cut up and marinated the wings in a strange concoction with beer, buttermilk, and a good portion of John's hot sauce. I have to start somewhere, and it seemed like a good mixture.
By halftime of the second game I thought it had marinated long enough, so I pulled the joints out, rolled them in seasoned flour, and then put them in the oven to bake. They really didn't need frying, as there was plenty of oil in the skins. They came out crisp and hot, but the marinade hadn't reached all the way into the meat, especially for the middle joints. The tiny drum sticks, which had less skin, actually took the flavor very well and were hot enough to make my sinuses explode occasionally. It didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted them, but it was good enough of a start for me to know where I wanted to go with the marinade.
The second game was actually pretty interesting, but we didn't see the end. While I like the Redskins, it was still far enough removed from the teams I cared about, which, admittedly, are mostly West Coast teams, that we went out on errands instead of listening to the middle half of the game. For some reason, the Origins WebSite listed the Crossroads Mall in Boulder as being a location for one of their shops. When we actually went there, we couldn't find the shop on the map, so we wandered around the malt trying to find the store, in case it just wasn't listed on the map yet. In the midst of our wanderings we happened upon an Eddie Bauer that was having a sale on most of their winter gear. They had several down parkas with good water-resistant shells reduced significantly, and since I don't have a short coat that is actually warm, I really wanted one of the sale coats. John started trying on coats as well, as the one really warm coat he has isn't long enough. We both ended up with very nice coats for very good prices that were then reduced another 20 percent. I really like bargain hunting with John.
Turns out there was no Origins shop that we could see. Maybe the web site is way out of date or is anticipating a new store. There were several stores that looked like they were turning over soon.
We listened to the end of the Redskins game on the way home, and the whole last-minute loss. After we got home I put together a turkey casserole, the old-fashioned recipe of canned cream soup, meat, pasta, green beans, and various seasonings went into the casserole dish. Bread crumbs and chopped French's onion rings went on top and the whole thing went into the oven until the top was brown and crunchy and the rest of it was bubbling with heat. It turned out very well, the we ate a significant portion of it before sitting down to a little CTR for fun.
Afterwards, I made cocoa for the two of us, and John sat down to do some stuff on the computer while I started Dangerous Angels. I should remember to never start a book that late in the evening, especially a book that's really three books stuck together. The book I have this actually a collection of all the books in the Weetzy Bat series. I actually bought this book at the Orycon in 1998, as I was wandering through Powell's because I thought it would be fun, but I really thought it was a set of tales about cyberpunks or angels because of my In Nomine fascination and when the first pages were about modern LA and teenagers I put it back down again, for nearly a year. Cera, Carl, and Marith all said that it was fantastic, but I had no desire, really, to read it until now.
Cera was right, the first book was actually very heavy going for me, in part because of my memories of L.A.. The ending of the first book, however, propelled me into the others. There's something about the structure of modern fairy tales that can hook me if they are concluded correctly. By correctly, I mean that, as in all good fairy tales, there is a satisfying ending which doesn't rule out terror or horror for the protagonist(s) during the tale but does have everything settling 'right' at the end. By the second book, the writing actually smoothed out for me, perhaps because I was better able to grasp the lingo she used. I also think that rather than rattling off a list of concrete items, as she did in the first book, she started to connect those items, those realities, to the characters involved. That made all the difference.
It is wonderful. It reflects a really, really fundimental belief that I've had all my life in concrete terms that just hit my heart in ways that I really needed to learn. The whole approach to life as a mixed bag of pain and disappointment and then making ones own magic, ones own way with the reflections others can provide, really, really hit something good. The whole approach to love as a healer just made me remember so much that was so good. So, I was up until 2 a.m. reading and crying and laughing and exploring another world beyond the careful borders I built for myself of reality and only the reflections of reality. Stepping back beyond the borders again. Carl mentioned that he might be running fantasy rpg that is a mix between this and Sean Stewart. If he does that I want to be in it so badly I would probably fly out there every month to just be able to participate regularly.
I dreamed, all night, of living in Weetzy's family. That was very sweet.
The only problem is that I told John that I would wake up in time to take Fezzik off to Marshall Mesa. It should make for an interesting day tomorrow.