pinkminx

Unless you're insulted by rabid anti-theism, anyway. Turns out a lot of religious people aren't, which means I do have LJ friends who are believers. It's all good, at least until people start thinking of religiosity as synonymous with morality. Anyone looking to restrict my (or anyone else's) access to abortion on some bullcrap sanctity of life basis, for example, is a flaming, senseless misogynist in my book. Why? Because most members of this breed would allow for a few exceptions, which transforms their stance from "abortion is murder" to "I'm okay with murder if the mother jumps through sufficient hoops to placate my moral sense of outrage." And now that I've said that, I'm not interested in debating abortion in the least; I discuss it sometimes, but pro-life people need not get involved because insofar as I'm concerned they're either very young and immature (and I'm not interested in giving the same Feminism 101 lessons over and over) or too full of the good ol' sense of sin and damn-ye-sluts-hatred for me to think they're anything but hypocritical, selfish and woman-hating.

Oh, look, that got long and venomous. Best to get it out of the way so that we can move on. To wit...

This journal is obviously not friends-only. I post some locked entries, mostly on topics that a) involve other people or b) are of a deeply personal nature* read about my partner's butt hair, but the majority of what I've written is accessible to anyone.

I'm always looking for interesting new LJ friends, comment here if you want to play. Like most people, I tend to think that other folks with at least somewhat overlapping/compatible interests are interesting, but honestly? We don't have to be twins. A snarky sense of humour and some empathy go a long way. Or just a snarky sense of humour and some perspective. Or, what the hell, just post.

A lot of my journal deals with my day-to-day life with my spawn and partner; that some people might find this domesticity dull goes without saying. I'm making a point of this anyway to deter those who wouldn't be interested, and also because I firmly believe that while being a stay-at-home parent is sometimes relentless and boring, it's certainly not pointless, wasteful or not worth writing about. I resent the implication I should shut up because I'm currently living a 'small' life in a traditionally female sphere of life. I've led the other type of life, too, and it really isn't any better, just different.

In addition to posts of the my-kid-ate-a-toilet-brush-today ilk, I occasionally relocate the mental chops needed to write about other things. These other things include but aren't limited to the science of exercise, how goddamn much I love food and eating, my at times questionable state of mental health, relationshit, freedom from religion, all types of shit that somehow fits under the feminist or pro-woman label, leftist/proggressive politics in general, colourful baby clothing and how obsessed I am with it, the latest in cat macros, motherhood-specific topics like lactivism and birth activism particularly as a part of the spectrum of reproductive choice, etc.

And, yeah, I identify as a woman and not as genderqueer, but restrictive/gender normative crap gets me riled up really, awfully fast.


*) Other people have pointed out that my idea of personal is a little... uncommon... at times. This means I talk about my period a lot.

Poor Sook spent most of yesterday under the guest room bed, shooting accusing glares at us as we came in to check on her.

See, these cats... I should mention first that they're rescues. My SIL runs a small animal rescue, through which Hugo and Sookie came to us. They're half siblings from the same Maine Coon breeder, born within a few weeks of each other, bought by this depressive woman who eventually got so miserable she stopped caring for them altogether. They had two enormous kitty climbing jungles and all the fancy shit money could buy, but looked like they'd been living under a barn when they came to us. Hugo has had a total of two vet visits in the year and something they've lived here, one immediately after they got in: he had a deep, infected wound that was oozing pus and disgust all over the place on his belly. The vet thought it was pretty bad, but he made a swift and full recovery after wound cleanup & stitches. The other visit was to equip him with a microchip and a tattoo for easier recognition.

Sookie... she's been tattooed and microchipped, but I'm not so sure I have enough fingers for counting her vet visits. Her fur was ridiculously matted and tangled when she got in, too much for simply removing the tangles, so she got a shave. And then she got another shave later, and one after that. We do groom our kitties, of course, but they don't take to it particularly well. Hugo I can manage nowadays, but Sookie has been particularly resistant to being combed, and her fur quality simply isn't very good. Hugo gets the occasional tangle on the underside, but his fur is lustrous and long and positively shining with health. Sookie's? Limp, easily tangled everywhere, dull. She also has chronic gingivitis, and has been on several courses of antibiotics, had her teeth cleaned a few times, bla bla. Nothing seems to make a difference, and the vet says she might just be one of these animals who'll need bi-monthly steroid injections to manage this condition.

She's also a very picky eater, possibly because of the gum issue. We switched our kitties to a diet of mostly wet foods (raw, I'd like to go there, but they're not cooperating) and that made a world of difference with Hugo-- he's shedding much less, looking better, and has a lot more energy. Sookie doesn't seem to have changed so much: she still looks and behaves like the poorest, most mistreated kitty in the world, at least when her humans are looking on. (Other cats... well, she keeps leaping towards the glass doors that lead to the garden, trying to attack the neighbourhood cats passing through our garden.) And she was never poorer than after yesterday's vet visit, from which she returned looking quite ridiculous and feeling understandably woozy. Cue hiding under the bed, infusing the atmosphere with the misery of the mistreated feline.

Woof has taken to calling them "poor cat" and "fat cat/arse cat", the latter which is much less offensive when one knows the personality of Hugo: he's big, lazy, arrogant, full of love and very good at picking the most inconvenient moment (and offensive method) of showing this. Sookie seems much more fragile by comparison.




Here's poor cat, finally out from her hiding place.

Energy level? Low. Unf. I haven't done anything today beyond making coffee and trying to find Laibach videos that haven't been crippled by GEMA on YouTube. Stupid Germany. I should find a proxy to do this through.

I have hopes of getting the spawn down for a nap in an hour's time. Then I can, uh, then I should start doing things, like managing a few more piles of laundry, lifting heavy things and putting them back down, cleaning the messes in the living room and kitchen. Could take the spawn to the playground later on the way to the grocery store, too, and then get together dinner, and...

This is my problem: I can't get started in the mornings, unless I plan something outside the house for the mornings, something that'll force me out of the door. I am unable to do much more than show up and ramble incoherently before noon (this works for socialising) so I ram all the housework and everything that needs doing into the afternoon hours and evenings. And as being active actually makes me more so -- I have crazy reserves of energy once I get going successfully, not unlike an avalanche -- I can't go to bed at a reasonable hour with all my fidgety energy.

This can't be about coffee, either. I drink some in the mornings when I first get up just to manage to open my eyes, and sometimes I'll have another cup around midday or not much after that. Usually there's a good 10 hours between coffee and bedtime. (But fewer than six does give me trouble, I notice.) I've gone without coffee, too, and the only thing that does is increase the odds of my walking into the walls in the first morning hours.

Maybe I'm just a night owl. Yeah, that. I had no problem with accomplishing shit when I got up at noon and went to work at two in the afternoon. Why is the world not built to accommodate my needs, hunh?

I have a mild sunburn and rope burn, now googling "how to climb a rope" and lathering aloe vera on my back.

And whoever claimed that ratatouille is a low-fat dish has never sampled mine.

Good day!

My sauce hollandaise-making virginity, GONE.

( + 5. )

My Eggs Benedict need a bit of work, but what I just cooked wasn't bad for a first attempt. Same with the hollandaise sauce-- I went a little overboard with adding water to cut the thickness.

What I had for breakfast lunch: gluten-free toast with butter, goat cheese, spinach, bacon and Eggs Benedict, topped with hollandaise sauce. (What I had for breakfast: a very tasty iced caffe latte with whey protein, mint and whipped cream.)

What I intend to cook for dinner: ratatouille with Debrecziner. I'm not sure I even like Debrecziner that much, but Woof insists on having them with ratatouille, "it's traditional." Whatever. I may just go for some nice pork loin myself.

What I intend to do today: wash laundry, walk to the fruit and vegetable man woman people and purchase tasty things, run stairs. Or row. Should I use the rowing machine instead? Decisions are hard. Oh, and FIND A FUCKING OB/GYN, WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!

Not feeling super energetic today. Better get going, I know it gets easier as I start doing things.

Yo, flist! Can anyone find alien garden gnomes for me? All I found were websites giving me a bunch of "sold out." I did look into zombie garden gnomes as well, and those seem more numerous... not many people shipping those to Europe on Etsy though.

Aaaagh, my ovaries!

Good things!

I can officially stop fretting about how my SIL is doing with breastfeeding, a thing she wanted to do very badly; they were given misinformation about when the lactation consultant is at the hospital, but this worked to their advantage as they got to meet with him already today. My SIL now has a SNS (supplementary nursing system) that hooks tubing to her nipples when they need to supplement, and they've cut out a good portion of the unnecessary formula supplements altogether. Things are looking up.

I don't know why I feel so invested in this, but I do. Then again, I'm invested in EVERYONE'S LIFE AND CHOICES, ALL THE FUCKING TIME, I WANT YOU TO MAKE INFORMED CHOICES AND DO WELL AND GET THE SUPPORT YOU NEED AND FEEL GOOD. Read this out in the blockbuster dude's voice, only smarmy, for the maximum creep factor. Feel gooo-hoood, mrowr.

This is my brain, high on chocolate.

For dinner I fried chicken, celery, carrot, onion, leek and garlic, added a bit of marsala wine, then sun dried tomatoes and feta cheese. And a fuckton of spices and herbs, of course. Tasty noms. Now I'm eating 70% dark chocolate, which is just a smidgen too sweet... but the other option is 85%, which is not quite sweet enough. My life is a trial, obviously.

I also got to pick up heavy things and put them down today. Cue instant happiness. I'm trying something new with my workouts, splitting them to smaller, easier manageable chunks. It's often hard for me to take a whole 45 minutes to an hour to lift things, but 15 minutes? Doable! And I can supplement (ha) with some kettlebell fun, or run stairs, or whatever.

Got my period a few days ago. Not pregnant! On the other hand that means I'll need to wait until the week after this one to get this damn bump on my cervix checked out. And, damn, I want a baby. sapphyres will find this hysterical, because I'm about to wrap up this entry by talking about all the fucking glorious cute baby crap I need to see on my future offspring, like new cloth diapers (I've plenty of fabrics that need to be cut and sewn together, the only investment here will be time) and wool soakers and longies (I've plenty of yarn that needs to be used on something... again all I need is time) and OMFG BABY CLOTHES DID I MENTION BABY CLOTHES?

I am disgustingly happy. The only cloud on my horizon is that someone contacted Woof about wanting to buy Stanley. Noooooo!