jumble, jumble
07.22.03 @ 3:15 p.m.
Have I mentioned that after a wash the dyed portion of my hair went from slightly orangey red to being traffic cone orange? I'm dissatisfied (and will be making a trip to Hot Topic for dye that isn't several years old... It was Andrew's left overs and I don't think he's been allowed to dye his hair since he started working at Starbucks nearly three years ago). So I'll have to get some bleach that works and a new bottle of dye.
How geeky is this? I already know what I want to wear to the White Stripes concert and it's a month and a half away.
I'm being so domestic lately. Kind of Martha Stewarty. Last night I was sewing curtains for my bedroom for the Eugene house. Our sewing machine kind of sucks and I had to pick the stitches out of five feet of drapes two or three times. I might finish this afternoon. I'm trying to tell myself that the machine is finicky because it was hot yesterday and I was using it for a long time, so now that it's had a 'rest', it'll work just fine. What made me think of Martha Stewart was that I unconsciously picked out fabric from the Martha Stewart home collection. It's a pretty sprigged plaid in light tan.
Ahem. Yeah.
I'm also working on chemically stripping a nice mahogany table that some idiot painted brown. I got it at Goodwill. And I'm kind of making Mom work on it while I sew my curtains because the stuff says it could cause reproductive harm and hey, I still have child bearing years ahead of me. It's highly unlikely that my parents would have another child. Though my dad freaked me out while I was making lunch today. He says, "How would you feel if your mom and I had a baby?" (I've heard this question before.) My answer: "Horrified."
Seriously. My mom is 50. It ain't happenin'. My parents are so weird.
My dad was a little drunk last night and nothing grates on me so much as a drunk person, especially my dad who gets sullen and condescending and is filled with contempt for anyone who expresses disagreement. Bastard. But I made him happy by patiently listening to the Son House original version of "Death Letter". I prefer the White Stripes' version, but it was pretty good. I guess my dad and I are alike in the way we want to press our musical taste on other people. I made him listen to the White Stripes one and he made me listen to the Son House version AGAIN. For comparison. He left and I was glad.
Then, at 12:30 at night (we were all up late because we all napped through the hottest part of the day), when I just wanted to watch the Monday rerun of Conan because I love the Patton Oswald bit (I've seen it before) and mess about on the computer, he comes in with his expensive Martin acoustic. Here, play with it. The hell? It's after midnight! Just take it. Just make sure you don't ding it on anything. No, I'm not going to. I'm not going to play guitar this late at night and I really think I can't be trusted not to damage your guitar. Haven't you SEEN mine? It's beat to hell. I have good intentions, but bad things happen. I'm so confused. And it's not like I've played guitar in days. I haven't. I got out my acoustic last week, but otherwise all I do is occasionally pick out something on the resonator that sits in our kitchen all the time and smells funny, like fish oil. Yuck.
Very strange. We had an argument at lunchtime. He's so contemptuous of religion. And I am too, in some small ways, but I don't dismiss all ideas of spirituality. I just haven't found anything I like, really. He was wavering between defense of Christianity as "the best religion" (pfft, how arrogant a statement is that?) and calling the idea of Guadalupe as bad as "running around in loincloths." He's an arrogant ass, that's what I think. It's too bad I can't respect him more, but he's looking all to human and flawed lately to me. It's horrible to say, but a lot of the time I just plain don't like him.
Religion is a touchy subject for me, not one I like to get into. So I won't. But I'm unhappy with my dad right now. I'm probably biased against him by how disgusted I get when he drinks to much and tries to 'connect' with me over stupid things. He wants me to be the same as him and that is abhorrent to me. I don't know why, probably because he's so arrogant and... No. I'm going to stop this now.
I'm going to go finish my curtains and watch some terrible daytime TV.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
