<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749</id><updated>2011-11-24T02:09:29.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>coming and going</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>534</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-8404771846897836650</id><published>2007-06-29T08:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T09:14:00.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>suicidal sparrows</title><content type='html'>is it just here in the North that birds have grown balls? they wait til the very last second to get out of the road. i'm ready to slam on my brakes and off they go. i'm really worried that i'm going to hit one of them.&lt;br /&gt;i had one of the worst anxiety attacks that i've ever had last night. i took all my prns for the whole weekend. crawled into bed with oliver and eventually fell asleep. then the phone rang. but i felt much better. now i have to hope that i'll do all right for the rest of the weekend. i have nothing more to take.&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm going to the fireworks tonight with my friend Lydia and another friend of hers. i say "think" because i'm worried that i'm going to back out at the last minute. we'll see... actually, i could probably see them from my third floor.&lt;br /&gt;i got most of my hair chopped off yesterday. it was half-way down my back, now it's just above my shirt collar. and it only cost me ten dollars, thirteen with the tip. it looks cute. i look younger. :P&lt;br /&gt;i sent H an email yesterday morning telling him that i was hurt that he never said anything about Rhea (my great aunt who passed away earlier in the month.) haven't heard anything from him. we'll see if i do.&lt;br /&gt;well, i'm off to read some blogs.&lt;br /&gt;take care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-8404771846897836650?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8404771846897836650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=8404771846897836650' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/8404771846897836650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/8404771846897836650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/suicidal-sparrows.html' title='suicidal sparrows'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-8616523379658580524</id><published>2007-06-22T09:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T09:24:40.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arghhh!!!</title><content type='html'>i'm pissed at myself. regular nurse left this morning to go on a cruise so i had a fill-in. someone i've never seen before. she totally screwed up my weekends set of meds. and i didn't say anything. mostly she got the prns screwed up. the weekend should be interesting. i hope i don't get her again during the week. it'll be hard to explain that i didn't say anything and tell her what they're supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;i saw sean yesterday and we had fun. i'll see her again on monday. &lt;br /&gt;the squid is on vacation next week. and the barbarian is off the week after next. i'm seeing the barbarian this afternoon. i forget what time. i guess i'll expect her when she shows up.&lt;br /&gt;i had dinner with my sister last night. it was kind of uncomfortable. she seemed in a rush to get away. the food wasn't very good either. they really oversalted the mashed potatoes. usually they're so good. tasted like someone poured an entire salt shaker on them. i don't salt anything. my sister salts everything and even she said that they tasted very salty. i know, so much excitement in my life. aren't you glad i'm sharing.&lt;br /&gt;i'm off to read some blogs.&lt;br /&gt;cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-8616523379658580524?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8616523379658580524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=8616523379658580524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/8616523379658580524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/8616523379658580524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/arghhh.html' title='Arghhh!!!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-6226854560972520485</id><published>2007-06-20T12:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T19:32:19.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the barbarian is back</title><content type='html'>just came from having coffee with the barbarian. she had a good time in california. both she and the squid will be taking vacations the week after next. i don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. i'll get to be alone, but maybe too much so.&lt;br /&gt;i went on line and looked up the obituary for my aunt Rhea. thought seeing it in print would make it sink in. but it didn't. it was two weeks today that she passed away.&lt;br /&gt;shit, i just lost the network connection. unshit. got it back. i wish this connection was more reliable.&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to see sean tomorrow. usually i see her on mondays but she had to reschedule this week. sometimes i think i'd be better off if i didn't see anyone. just me and the cats.&lt;br /&gt;there goes the phuckin' connection again.&lt;br /&gt;well, i guess this will get posted tomorrow.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-6226854560972520485?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6226854560972520485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=6226854560972520485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/6226854560972520485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/6226854560972520485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/barbarian-is-back.html' title='the barbarian is back'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-5701965248755225323</id><published>2007-06-13T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T12:18:43.164-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whine</title><content type='html'>tonight might be my last warm bath for a while. they're going to shut off my gas. damn fucktards, always wanting money. i'm choosing to look on the bright side. at least it's not the electricity. that would really suck.&lt;br /&gt;i'm at the coffee shop getting a lousy internet signal.&lt;br /&gt;i saw my pdoc this morning. she made some changes. at this point, i don't have faith in anything anymore. i've been taking a lot of the flower essences that sean mixed up for me. i think they help to a point. they're not magic, which is what i'm hoping for these days. but then, so is everyone.&lt;br /&gt;i'm diddling around waiting for pam, the barbarian's fill in. filling in while the barb is in california. she'll be back next week.&lt;br /&gt;this certainly is the place to people watch. some are downright scary. but that's what makes this town great. one of the things that i miss about it. phuckin' internet signal sucks.&lt;br /&gt;this morning is a service for my great aunt. it's here in town. i'd be going but i have nothing to wear. all my decent clothes are too small. or i'm too big. either way.... her son is having her creamated, so there'll be a separate graveside service at some other time. maybe i can find something to wear by then. it's finding something with long sleeves this time of year that's the problem. i don't want the world to see my scars. i feel really bad about not going to the service today. it started ten minutes ago. i get so angry with myself about the scars. you'd think i wouldn't cut anymore because of that, but nothing seems to stop me when i have that going through my head. the pdoc raised my clozaril, which is supposed to help with the suicidal thoughts and the thoughts of cutting. i just want to go to sleep and not wake up.&lt;br /&gt;i just switched tables, got a better signal now. yeehaw!!! well there's a little brightness in my life. doesn't take much.&lt;br /&gt;oh,man, they're peeling oranges for the juicer. smells damned good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back at home. in the comfort of my bed, with oliver rubbing against the laptop.&lt;br /&gt;pam and i didn't meet for very long. that was fine with me. i was anxious to get home. i have to go back out to wallyworld but i'm waiting for the squid to call. she called while is on my way to my appt. with the pdoc. i called her back and got her machine. i wish i had some idea of when she'll call. i'd like to get my trip to wallyworld out of the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-5701965248755225323?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5701965248755225323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=5701965248755225323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5701965248755225323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5701965248755225323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/whine.html' title='whine'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-3211849439510660571</id><published>2007-06-11T08:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T08:53:05.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>pig farts</title><content type='html'>don't ask me what made me think of that. i have no idea. started thinking of a Beatles' song and there i suddenly was- at pig farts.&lt;br /&gt;that is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-3211849439510660571?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3211849439510660571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=3211849439510660571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3211849439510660571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3211849439510660571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/pig-farts.html' title='pig farts'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-2006063425177432193</id><published>2007-06-07T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T09:46:42.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sad news</title><content type='html'>i got a call from my cousin yesterday that his mother (my great-aunt) died yesterday morning. she would have turned 91 next week. maybe i'll write about her later. right now i'm just sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-2006063425177432193?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2006063425177432193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=2006063425177432193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2006063425177432193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2006063425177432193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/sad-news.html' title='sad news'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-3984831383462647588</id><published>2007-06-05T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T08:17:03.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i feel so out of the loop</title><content type='html'>i've been trying to catch up on people's blogs. it seems like a losing battle. but i want to know what's going on with everyone.&lt;br /&gt;congratulations to Denise for doing so well in her classes. and i'm glad that Babs' bubble is almost gone.&lt;br /&gt;im going to see the squid this morning. i've really come to like her. she has a great sense of humor. though i'd rather go back to bed this morning. i'll treat myself to a cup of coffee on the way.&lt;br /&gt;hope everyone is doing okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-3984831383462647588?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3984831383462647588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=3984831383462647588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3984831383462647588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3984831383462647588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-feel-so-out-of-loop.html' title='i feel so out of the loop'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-5942221398789738669</id><published>2007-06-04T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T09:07:18.038-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lesson of the day</title><content type='html'>when you haven't vacuumed in a while, do not try to pick up all the cat hair. it makes your vacuum smell like it's going to explode.&lt;br /&gt;yesterday was a difficult day. i just wanted to die. i cleaned a little and tried to watch a movie. but the movie just annoyed me.  it was The Return of the Pink Panther. i got the first disc of Lost on sean's recommendation but didn't feel like watching that either. i feel better today.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian is on vacation. she won't be back until the 20th. there's someone filling in for her whom i  like but she's not very good at making times to meet. she tends to forget unless you call her. and i'm not very good at calling. i feel like i'm being a pain.&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to go have some breakfast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-5942221398789738669?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5942221398789738669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=5942221398789738669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5942221398789738669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5942221398789738669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/lesson-of-day.html' title='lesson of the day'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-3893681253696898589</id><published>2007-06-02T10:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T11:04:51.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>guess what?</title><content type='html'>i'm propped up in my bed writing this. yes, wireless is back. i made a deal with Mr. Roo to use his account. i'm not getting the best signal so i don't know whether or not this will work out. but i'm giving it a try. i don't get a signal on the first floor which sucks but i get a weak one on the second and third floors. just in time for the heat of summer. i only have an a/c on the first floor. i have one sitting in my cellar. if i was smart i'd get a couple of strong guys put it up here for me. i hate asking people to do things like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-3893681253696898589?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3893681253696898589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=3893681253696898589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3893681253696898589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/3893681253696898589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/06/guess-what.html' title='guess what?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-500727604089812955</id><published>2007-05-26T08:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T08:42:40.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>weird</title><content type='html'>well, i got patted down by a cop last week. i guess it was the week before. that thursday, i cut and when the nurse came the next morning, she saw my arm. a big bandage wrapped with scotch tape. when she took the bandage off to have a look, blood started pouring out again. she called 911. that brought a cop and an ambulance. one guy with this big booming voice asked if i had tried to kill myself. asshole. didn't have to say it loud enough for half the neighborhood to hear. one of the &lt;br /&gt;EMTs wrapped my arm up again. one leg of my pants was already soaked with blood. and i mean soaked. i was escorted to the ambulance. spent the entire morning in the er. then when they finally  let me go, i had no way home. walked the mile to the barbarian's office looking for a ride home. she wasn't there. i waited two hours for her. on the way to her office, this couple stopped me for directions to the Smith art museum. there i was with my arm all bandaged up and my bloody pants. if i'd been one of them, i'd have given me a wide berth.&lt;br /&gt;oh, why did i get patted down by the cop? he was making sure that i didn't have any razor blades or anything. i hope i bled on him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-500727604089812955?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/500727604089812955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=500727604089812955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/500727604089812955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/500727604089812955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/05/weird.html' title='weird'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-2811075192231226772</id><published>2007-04-23T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T11:02:59.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's back</title><content type='html'>yes, the lawn ball. yes, it's back and as ugly as ever. this year i'm going to do more than complain about it. i'm going to take action. yessiree. action, i say!&lt;br /&gt;i'm distracted. there's someone sitting at my table. how dare they! i usually come earlier in the day and have the table to myself.i can smell the newspaper they're reading. bah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have to go home. too much noise in here.&lt;br /&gt;hope everyone is doing okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-2811075192231226772?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2811075192231226772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=2811075192231226772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2811075192231226772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2811075192231226772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-back.html' title='it&apos;s back'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-5035805338503547380</id><published>2007-04-12T09:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T08:39:45.128-05:00</updated><title type='text'>saturday morning</title><content type='html'>i'm the first one in the library this morning. got a prime parking place. :)&lt;br /&gt;woke up this morning, had no idea what day it was. had to look at my phone.&lt;br /&gt;went to the dentist yesterday. for the first time in ten years. had no cavities. i'm thinking they got my x-rays mixed up with someone else's. i can't believe it. those damned plastic things they put in your mouth to take the x-rays really dig into your gums. and everything was pink. the cup, the bib, the napkins. i'd have chosen blue myself. the dentist didn't even introduce himself which i thought was kind of strange.&lt;br /&gt;when the barbarian picked me up to take me to the dentist, she had another client in the car. she was going to take me to the dentist, then bring the other person home. on the way to the dentist we talked about going to the beach this summer. i don't know. i always have anxiety attacks when i'm at the beach. but i love the ocean. the smell of it, the way it goes on forever and ever. and i bet i could talk the barbarian into making a sand castle. i always wanted to go with H, but he never wanted to go. speaking of H. he's had an interesting few weeks. the woman he moved in with punched him out. then she called the police saying that she felt intimidated. she went off in handcuffs. ended up at the local psych ward. she was going back home the last i heard. i don't know. if someone punched me, they wouldn't continue to live with me. i can say that having lived it. but, everyone is different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-5035805338503547380?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5035805338503547380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=5035805338503547380' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5035805338503547380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/5035805338503547380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/04/saturday-morning.html' title='saturday morning'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-2894045385788932634</id><published>2007-04-05T09:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T09:16:03.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>okay</title><content type='html'>it worked that time.  don't know what the problem was before.&lt;br /&gt;not much to report. feel very out of the loop. it's just too hard to keep up on posts with the distractions here in the library.&lt;br /&gt;they're using a paper cutter and it sounds like a guillotine (sp). now that posts are working, i'll read a few blogs and head home and write something worth reading (i hope)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-2894045385788932634?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2894045385788932634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=2894045385788932634' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2894045385788932634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/2894045385788932634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/04/okay.html' title='okay'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-1403657335816663344</id><published>2007-04-05T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T09:08:42.202-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just a test</title><content type='html'>it hasn't let me post in a week or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-1403657335816663344?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1403657335816663344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=1403657335816663344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/1403657335816663344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/1403657335816663344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/04/just-test.html' title='just a test'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-710129395360327587</id><published>2007-03-08T10:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T10:53:57.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'>good bye talksalot!</title><content type='html'>yes, you read that right. she's gone. been gone a week. and i got the tv. got the small one, which i prefer. i hate it when the television dominates the room. it's already more peaceful around here. don't have to worry about her knocking at my door.&lt;br /&gt;i feel bad for the people who bought her condo. she had an end unit but the shared wall, well, the people on the side of them are. according to talksalot, very loud. the new owners moved in on saturday. i wanted to go out and offer to help, but i chickened out. it's a father with an 8 year old daughter.&lt;br /&gt;in other news:  the squid got a parakeet. she brought it into the office on tuesday so i got to meet him. his name is Felix. her 8 year old daughter named him.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian brought me a lot of CDs. i have to import them at the library so that i have access to the CDDB.&lt;br /&gt;yeah, all of this is really big news. i'm out of practice.&lt;br /&gt;i miss all of you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-710129395360327587?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/710129395360327587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=710129395360327587' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/710129395360327587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/710129395360327587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/03/good-bye-talksalot.html' title='good bye talksalot!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116957813446090478</id><published>2007-01-23T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T13:48:54.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tuesday</title><content type='html'>saw the squid this morning. then went to get some cat litter. i had a gift card to a local supermarket. it's a huge store but i needed the cat litter. i got in and out pretty fast, thank goodness. then rushed home for a cigarette. i'm making my own rather than buying them and it's loads cheaper. the tubes even come with filters.&lt;br /&gt;i'm spending the evening with George Clooney. i rented Ocean's Twelve. it should arrive in the mail today. i really like NetFlix. very convenient.&lt;br /&gt;that's all that's in my brain. i just can't into writing entries here. i've tried at home and that doesn't work very well either. but i will try again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116957813446090478?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116957813446090478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116957813446090478' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116957813446090478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116957813446090478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/01/tuesday.html' title='tuesday'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116922216389974957</id><published>2007-01-19T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T10:56:03.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hello again</title><content type='html'>not sure what to write. have to pee. okay, that was probably too much information.&lt;br /&gt;my mind is blank. i really miss having internet access at home. doesn't look like that's going to change any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;i caught h on IM yesterday. the woman he's known for a month? they're moving in together. i can't imagine doing that after a month. i thought us doing it after six months was fast.&lt;br /&gt;no more news. hope you all are feeling okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take care&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116922216389974957?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116922216389974957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116922216389974957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116922216389974957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116922216389974957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/01/hello-again.html' title='hello again'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116863328121655649</id><published>2007-01-12T14:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T15:21:21.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1*12*07</title><content type='html'>not much happening lately. still coming to the library to get online.&lt;br /&gt;today, twenty six years ago, my brother died. i feel kind of numb when i think about it.&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what else to say....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116863328121655649?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116863328121655649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116863328121655649' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116863328121655649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116863328121655649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/01/11207.html' title='1*12*07'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116792681351032093</id><published>2007-01-04T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T11:06:53.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1.4.07</title><content type='html'>hope you all made it through the holidays. i'm glad they're over.&lt;br /&gt;talksalot hasn't sold her unit yet. i'm hoping soon. she's been fairly quiet.&lt;br /&gt;i got a call yesterday that i was approved for two and a half hours per week of housekeeping. the waiting list is 2 to 3 months. i'm still not sure what i think of someone coming into my house to clean. and do my laundry. it'll be good to have a clean house though.&lt;br /&gt;just got a call that the barbarian is out sick today.&lt;br /&gt;oh, i can't concentrate. hope you all are doing okay. don't have the patience to read blogs right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116792681351032093?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116792681351032093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116792681351032093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116792681351032093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116792681351032093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2007/01/1407.html' title='1.4.07'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116715527118001026</id><published>2006-12-26T12:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T12:47:51.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the day after</title><content type='html'>it's over. finally. yes, i was a scrooge this year. i wanted to spend the day sleeping. but i did go to my sister's for about an hour and a half. shortly after i arrived, both my nephews showed up. i got really nervous. didn't talk much. was just generally uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;it's uncomfortable here this afternoon. lots of people. none of them making an effort to be quiet. all coughing their lungs out. cootie library.&lt;br /&gt;don't feel much like blogging.&lt;br /&gt;hope everyone made it through the holidays all right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116715527118001026?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116715527118001026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116715527118001026' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116715527118001026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116715527118001026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/12/day-after.html' title='the day after'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116681655958323103</id><published>2006-12-22T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T14:42:39.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>12-22-06</title><content type='html'>i'm not sure why i came to the library. to check my email, i guess. haven't been here since monday.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian came over this morning and made guacamole and enchilladas. the guacamole is really good. i think the enchilladas need to be smothered in salsa and sour cream. then we went to the grocery store. she needed to buy her turkey. and i wanted to pick up a few things. it wasn't really all that bad at the store. there were a lot of people but i didn't have to kill anyone.&lt;br /&gt;anyway....i hope everyone has a good holiday or at least some bright moments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116681655958323103?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116681655958323103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116681655958323103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116681655958323103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116681655958323103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/12/12-22-06.html' title='12-22-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116655144752808716</id><published>2006-12-19T12:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T13:04:08.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and i care because?</title><content type='html'>this happened a few weeks ago but it still makes me laugh. h IMed me the following information. he had sex five times in twelve hours. a personal best, he said. unless he was forgetting something from our time together. nope. he wanted some kind of acheivement award, i guess. and why is he telling me this? i guess there are a limited number of people you can share that with. and apparently, he felt i was one of them. he's since dumped that woman and gone on to another. i don't know if he'll be trying to top that record. just thought since he shared that with me, i'd share it with you. aren't i thoughtful?&lt;br /&gt;i saw the squid today. i won't see her again until the 3rd of January. my insurance covers 15 visits every 17 weeks. makes a lot of sense, huh?&lt;br /&gt;i watched Sleepy Hollow yesterday. with my friend the Depp. it was so cute how he kept fainting. thought it was a good movie.&lt;br /&gt;talksalot still hasn't had any luck selling her condo. hell, i just have my sights set on that free tv.&lt;br /&gt;now she's emailing me jokes. i don't need anymore jokes in my in box. i just delete them. it annoys me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116655144752808716?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116655144752808716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116655144752808716' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116655144752808716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116655144752808716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/12/and-i-care-because.html' title='and i care because?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116567782593089072</id><published>2006-12-09T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T10:23:49.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>got an early christmas gift</title><content type='html'>ready for this?&lt;br /&gt;did i tell you this already?&lt;br /&gt;talksalot is moving to california! did i tell you this?&lt;br /&gt;they're having a little trouble selling their condo. they keep lowering the price. they've had three open houses. so far, they've given me a chair and a floor lamp and when they actually leave, they're giving me a 20" television. the floor lamp is just the one that i would have chosen if i bought one. and the chair actually goes with my living room. although with my over-sized furniture, it does look kind of like a kid's chair. the cats have adopted it. they can go underneath it, which they can't with the other furniture.&lt;br /&gt;i miss every one. i'm trying to get around to people's blogs. it's hard in the library. hard to concentrate. know that i'm reading your posts even though i'm not commenting much.&lt;br /&gt;talksalot moving, yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116567782593089072?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116567782593089072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116567782593089072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116567782593089072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116567782593089072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/12/got-early-christmas-gift.html' title='got an early christmas gift'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116353283221687095</id><published>2006-11-14T14:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T14:33:52.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>movies and sleep</title><content type='html'>that's been the extent of my activities lately. saw the squid today. nothing exciting there. she moved to a new office. much nicer than the old one. but i have further to go now. further, farther...whichever.&lt;br /&gt;i'm borrowing Pearl Harbor from the library to watch tonight.&lt;br /&gt;sean got me a free trial of Netflix. i ordered Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. johnny depp looked like michael jackson. i couldn't take it. it was freaking me out. i had to shut it off. i also got the sound of music. never a disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm going to head home. it's kind of noisy here today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116353283221687095?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116353283221687095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116353283221687095' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116353283221687095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116353283221687095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/11/movies-and-sleep.html' title='movies and sleep'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116232103871813622</id><published>2006-10-31T13:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T13:57:19.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hurrah!!</title><content type='html'>it not only didn't snow, but it's short sleeve weather.&lt;br /&gt;the hurrah part is about the condo. i got something  in the mail saying that if i didn't pay my back property taxes by today, they were going to sell my condo. the barbarian took me to the clerks office and we worked out a payment plan. a big load off my mind. the woman there was very sweet. i expected some hard nosed witch. was pleasantly surprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116232103871813622?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116232103871813622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116232103871813622' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116232103871813622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116232103871813622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/hurrah.html' title='hurrah!!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116196023758710712</id><published>2006-10-27T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:10:42.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the S word</title><content type='html'>yes, sunday, they're calling for snow showers. and high winds. 40+. i don't even have my air conditioner out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;it's anything but quiet in here today. some people bang on the keyboard so that you can hear them ten feet away. that drives me nuts.&lt;br /&gt;i read about babs losing her franky. my heart goes out to her. i know he will be sorely missed. he was lucky to have babs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116196023758710712?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116196023758710712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116196023758710712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116196023758710712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116196023758710712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/s-word.html' title='the S word'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116187396450317992</id><published>2006-10-26T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T09:46:05.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big News!</title><content type='html'>the lawn ball is gone! and i had nothing to do with it. yay! hurray! maybe it was murdered, though i heard no gun shots. strangled perhaps. drop kicked. lethal injection. whatever, it's gone. and i'm glad.&lt;br /&gt;i'm addicted to buffalo wings. the frozen ones. tgi fridays?&lt;br /&gt;just wanted to check in see how everyone was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116187396450317992?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116187396450317992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116187396450317992' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116187396450317992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116187396450317992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/big-news.html' title='Big News!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116170825258086038</id><published>2006-10-24T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T11:44:13.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tuesday</title><content type='html'>hanging out at the library again. it's really hard to concentrate here. the phone ringing, people talking. the people at the table next to me won't shut up.&lt;br /&gt;on the way home i'm going to the grocers and get some buffalo wings.&lt;br /&gt;my nephew got me some chocolate for my birthday. it's so rich, i won't need another piece for a month.&lt;br /&gt;my other nephew didn't  come over this weekend like i thought he was going to .&lt;br /&gt;okay the buffalo wings and a cigarette...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116170825258086038?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116170825258086038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116170825258086038' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116170825258086038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116170825258086038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday.html' title='tuesday'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116101141047258521</id><published>2006-10-16T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T10:10:20.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the big 40</title><content type='html'>it's ten-thirty. i just remembered it's my birthday. that's right, the big 40. drat! i don't want to turn forty. i'm totally against it.&lt;br /&gt;i spent the weekend in bed watching movies. old movies. the kind that violence is only a smack in the jaw and sex is fade to black. i like the innocence.&lt;br /&gt;i have this craving for M&amp;Ms. i'm going to stop at the little store on my way home. haven't had a craving for chocolate in a long time. must be halloween coming on that's doing it. yeah, that's it. &lt;br /&gt;my heat came on this morning. although it was set below fifty. i hadn't planned to turn it on before november. trying to get h on IM. now that i've remembered it's my birthday, i want someone to wish me a happy birthday. my sister's birthday was yesterday. i didn't get to talk to her. just left a message on her machine. wanted to bring her a cheesecake but short on funds and they're so expensive.&lt;br /&gt;the more time goes by, the more i miss ella.&lt;br /&gt;though i may not be leaving comments, i am reading your blogs. just don't know what to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116101141047258521?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116101141047258521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116101141047258521' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116101141047258521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116101141047258521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/big-40.html' title='the big 40'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-116006172362585915</id><published>2006-10-05T10:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T10:24:51.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wednesday, october 4th</title><content type='html'>i wish i had taken more pictures of ella. the last one that i took was of her asleep on the back of the chair. i wish i had a full face picture. i don't understand why i can't cry. i think it's one of meds. i feel guilty because i haven't cried over ella. i've cried over mice and lizards but i can't cry now. the cat i've had the longest, 17 years, has died and i can't even shed a tear. doesn't seem right. i miss her terribly.&lt;br /&gt;i get to see sean tomorrow. that's the plan anyway, i hope she doesn't cancel. she'll be away next week. in Boston. i'd love to go to Boston with her. she's about the only person who feels safe enough to say that about. i haven't been to Boston in years and years. the only thing stopping me from going is me. i wish i could just drive there. i wish the bus was a possibility, but i couldn't stand being on the bus that long. sitting next to a stranger. no, no, no,no.&lt;br /&gt;i think there's a coup going on here. against talksalot. they seem to have a big meeting going on next door minus me and talksalot. who knows what they're talking about. if i thought living in a condo was going to be like this....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-116006172362585915?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/116006172362585915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=116006172362585915' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116006172362585915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/116006172362585915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-october-4th.html' title='wednesday, october 4th'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115982154181272818</id><published>2006-10-02T15:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T15:39:02.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>six days</title><content type='html'>since i lost ella. there's a place in the bed and a place in my heart. no cat will ever be so sweet. boo hasn't left my side since ella passed.i guess she has one less body to share with. &lt;br /&gt;don't feel much like blogging.&lt;br /&gt;think i'll stop at the grocer's and head home. again thanks for all your good wishes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115982154181272818?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115982154181272818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115982154181272818' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115982154181272818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115982154181272818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/six-days.html' title='six days'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115981962523633282</id><published>2006-10-02T15:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T15:08:38.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10-16-06</title><content type='html'>just came back from taking lydia to work. first it was just taking her to work, then she called and asked if i wanted to go to coffee first. me? turn down coffee? hahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;after we had coffee, we decided we were hungry and went down the street for lunch and then i took her to work.&lt;br /&gt;we talked about going to Six Flags on halloween. i don’t know if they’ll be open then but i’ll have lydia find out. she doesn’t mind making those kinds of calls. i think the thing about lydia is that when you’re with her, she makes you feel like you’re her best friend.&lt;br /&gt;you know you’re not but she makes you feel that way. it’s a gift some people have. i wish i had it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115981962523633282?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115981962523633282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115981962523633282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115981962523633282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115981962523633282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/10/10-16-06.html' title='10-16-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115954901309440687</id><published>2006-09-29T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T11:56:53.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thank you</title><content type='html'>thank you all for you kind words. they mean a lot to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115954901309440687?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115954901309440687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115954901309440687' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115954901309440687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115954901309440687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/thank-you.html' title='thank you'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115937817222041336</id><published>2006-09-27T12:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T12:29:32.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ella</title><content type='html'>ella died during the night. she's right beside me on couch in a pillow case. my sister's husband is going to dig a hole at their house for me to bury her. i don't want to bury her here this doesn't feel like home. i put her in our favorite pillow case.she loved sleeping on it. okay, so maybe it was the pillow beneath it. but i think of it as her favorite.&lt;br /&gt;i can't believe ella is gone. she was truly the sweetest cat i've ever known.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115937817222041336?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115937817222041336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115937817222041336' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115937817222041336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115937817222041336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/ella_27.html' title='ella'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115894436333526908</id><published>2006-09-22T11:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T11:59:36.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>small world</title><content type='html'>the barbarian told me this morning that she knows the woman who bought my house. knows her very well and had high praise for her. she had all these nice things to say about her. it kind of took me aback. she said she's known her for a very long time. she said that it was much more of a project than they had bargained for. that made me smile secretly. i was hoping that would be the case.they've only done over and rented one side. they have to wait on the other side. short on funds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115894436333526908?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115894436333526908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115894436333526908' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115894436333526908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115894436333526908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/small-world.html' title='small world'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115878253943112013</id><published>2006-09-20T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T15:02:21.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>off to see the wizard....</title><content type='html'>and came back with fig pieces. yes, fig pieces. there’s this bag that they give everyone. it’s already packed. it’s the USDA package and i just got home and they’re giving people fucking fig pieces. who the hell wants that? BUT, i got peanut butter and tuna. hurray!!&lt;br /&gt; and lucked out with a lot of name brands. Kraft mac and cheese instead of the 49 cent box they have at the grocer. which i can say, is not too good. they have Kraft at the grocer’s too, but  how can you pass up mac and cheese that is half the cost? unfortuntately i don’t have any mayo for the tuna, both the cats and i are in morning. we actually got the fancy albacore. that doesn’t happen often, usually its the chunk light. got progresso chicken noodle soup, celestial seasonings tea. got a whole bag of apples. some fresh green beans. and some stale bread that the barbarian forced me to take.  the food stamps are still screwed up. i have to get another receipt from talksalot stating the amount of my condo fee every month.  i don’t think it’s fair. talksalot should have no idea about my financial situation. at all. no need for reciepts, no nothing. it really ticks me off. and another part of me says, who cares what she thinks. she’s not my favorite person. what does it matter?&lt;br /&gt;aw hell, i’m going to the library. oh, i just noticed yesterday that my inspection sticker is out of date. it reads 8, should be 9, oops! i certainly can’t afford to get a ticket for that. although i am limiting my driving. maybe i shouldn’t go to the library.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115878253943112013?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115878253943112013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115878253943112013' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115878253943112013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115878253943112013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/off-to-see-wizard.html' title='off to see the wizard....'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115867553618746604</id><published>2006-09-19T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T09:18:56.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday, Sept. 18</title><content type='html'>just came back from lydia's. she gave me a roll of toilet paper and five dollars. i looked in the bag and said, oh a big roll. she asked if that was alright. she's so funny. how can a roll of toilet paper be wrong? oh leave it to Denise or Babs to find a way. &lt;br /&gt;someone is hammering like hell out there. as soon as i wrote that, they stopped. what magical powers i have. &lt;br /&gt;for lunch i had rice and italian dressing. i don't recommend it. amazing the things you'll eat when you're hungry. did i say that they messed up my food stamps? they were supposed to send me something to sign. they never sent it. and the worker was on vacation last week. the barbarian said that if i didn't get it by tuesday to call them and have them fax the forms to the barbarian, so that i can sign them and send them back. weinies! so i didn't get any food stamps this month. thus the rice and dressing. it was that or tomato sauce. not pasta sauce, plain tomato sauce. hopefully, wednesday, we can go to the food pantry. maybe get some more peanut butter. yum. it's usually peanut butter or tuna. i get the tuna so i can share with the cats. but sometimes they throw the peanut butter in as an extra. i just wish the bread they offered wasn't so stale. it's so stale, you worry about breaking a tooth.&lt;br /&gt;i'm really ticked at my sister for not getting back to me. i could be using junk mail as toilet paper for all she knows. i feel like i don't know her anymore. i'm not sure what happened. this change of behavior. not very attractive.&lt;br /&gt;i just braved my way upstairs. the upstairs "bat" is the smoke detector. i guess i need to get some batteries after i get my check. it makes sense that all the batteries should be running out of juice at about the time, having all been put up at the same time. glad i didn't call an exterminator. he/she would have laughed their asses off. i probably wouldn't have been the first one to call an exterminator for a smoke detector, but i'd rather not be a part of that group. like the woman who called puter tech support because her pc wouldn't work. and she couldn't see well because the power was out so she didn't have light to see behind the computer. double d'oh!&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if that's a true story...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115867553618746604?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115867553618746604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115867553618746604' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115867553618746604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115867553618746604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/monday-sept-18.html' title='Monday, Sept. 18'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115858941840567418</id><published>2006-09-18T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T09:23:38.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday, September 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3484/1475/1600/chuckie%20at%20the%20window.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3484/1475/320/chuckie%20at%20the%20window.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thought i'd give you another shot of my beautiful Chuckie.&lt;br /&gt;no library today. both are closed. actually maybe forbes is open, the hours i got were for the summer. if the e'ton library was open i'd be there.&lt;br /&gt;i got some cigarettes. i went to Jim's with a couple of dollars and some change and the guy was nice enough to give me a pack of some cigarettes. virginia slims. but beggars can't be choosers.&lt;br /&gt;i called my sister yesterday afternoon asking for a dollar and fifty cents and a roll of toilet paper. she ignored me. you'd think she'd at least give me the roll of toilet paper. i didn't get her , i left her a message on her answering machine.  i had the worst time figuring out how much money i had. i had to do it on paper. i don't know what's wrong with my brain lately.&lt;br /&gt;oh no, duck man is shirtless again. he needs a bra. and why do they call them training bras? either you need one or or you don't.&lt;br /&gt;i'm listening to a thunderstorm on my iPod. and  it's sunny out. pretty cool. don't have to worry about lightning strikes.&lt;br /&gt;i went upstairs yesterday to find the bat. couldn't find it. haven't braved the third third floor yet. the barbarian offered to help. two people screaming like little girls. i'll have to make sure the roos aren't home. lord knows what they'd think we were doing.&lt;br /&gt;i haven't wet the bed in a week. yay! the couch actually since i've been hiding down here from the bat. the house is ruled by a mouse-like creature with wings. did i say huge wings? with HUGE wings. &lt;br /&gt;guess i'm going to have to call lydia tomorrow for some toilet paper. hope she's not as broke as i am.&lt;br /&gt;the Big E started over the weekend. i'd love to go. it's like a huge fair. lydia was excited at the possibility but neither of us can afford to go. and we have a Six Flags near here, would love to go to that too. i want to go on a roller coaster, dammit. not one that makes you wet your pants, just one that makes you hang on tight.&lt;br /&gt;i don't see anyone tomorrow except the morning nurse.and people at the library. i'm so glad that i can get online there. otherwise, i'd be going nuts. and i'm not seeing the squid until thursday this week. i'll see marsha on tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;h called last night and he said that i wasn't making any sense. i had taken my nighttime pills. i just remembered that and sent him an sms that i was coherent today.&lt;br /&gt;he just called. he and the girlfriend broke up. i kind of guessed that when he called on a saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i'm rambling. that's what happens when people are separated from the internet. the brain starts to go. mumble, mumble, mumble.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115858941840567418?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115858941840567418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115858941840567418' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115858941840567418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115858941840567418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/sunday-september-17.html' title='Sunday, September 17'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115720990443799724</id><published>2006-09-02T10:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T10:11:44.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today is cigarette day. i’m going to threaten the barbarian for a pack because the mail doesn’t come until late and the bank here in town closes early. the bank in hamp closes later but i’m afraid i won’t have enough gas to get there. fudge. oh wouldn’t  a piece of fudge be good right now?  or a Nantucket pepperidge farm cookie.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian is due soon.  i didn’t get to see sean but i’m supposed to see her today, i think. i brought all of the bags of trash out on the porch. four bags. we didn’t take them out last time so there’s actually two weeks worth. what if she doesn’t come? i’ll have to take them out by myself. it’s so much easier to take it out with someone here. what a silly thing. who knows, maybe next time, i’ll be able to make it as far as talksalot’s front door.&lt;br /&gt;got seven dollars out of the barbarian, for cigarettes and gas to get to the bank. she said, i shouldn’t be doing this. i told her that as soon as i cashed my check i’d be going to get some anyway. told her about the mail coming too late to go to the bank. she gave me money for gasoline, enough to get to the bank and back to the gas station.&lt;br /&gt;i was having a terrible time thinking of what i wanted to say. i ended up having to say, i can’t, a lot. i just couldn’t put my thoughts together.&lt;br /&gt;i just left lydia a message asking her if she wanted to go to the fair on monday. neither of us can afford it but it can be a lot of fun. as long as i don’t come home with a rabbit. lydia won’t be any help. she’ll encourage me.  so i have to bring only enough money to get in and to get a ride pass. and a fried dough. :) this is the first year that they’re not having horse racing. that was what drew the majority of people. i don’t agree the idea of horse racing. or dog racing.  i wish i could adopt a greyhound. i don’t think the cats would do too well with a dog.  and the rooms aren’t big enough for a big dog. never mind what talksalot would have to say about it. i think she’s the tar and feather type.&lt;br /&gt;well, talksalot just came to the door. she’s quitting as trustee. that leaves a position that no one probably wants. talksalot said the only one she’d trust is mr. roo. i don’t know if he’ll take the job. i sure would never want it. of course i’ve only been to three meetings. so i don’t have to worry about them electing me. ~sly grin~&lt;br /&gt;gee, sean was supposed to call about an hour ago. maybe i won’t get to see her this week afterall. but my herbal drops are gone. i know that she wants to get more to me. poor sean,inevitably late. she means well and i think she tries to be on time. i hope she didn’t forget me. it’s been more than an hour. i was counting on seeing her today. it’s hard to go from seeing someone five days a week to seeing her only once a week. the barbarian and i filled out an application for some help around here. with things which take fine motor skills. because of my tremor. for a while,the pill they put me on for the tremor helped, but lately it’s not working so well. whoever i’m with to get coffee has to carry it for me unil i get a lid on it. i tried to carry it today but had to put it down for the barbarian to carry it.&lt;br /&gt;it gets very frustrating. and embarrassing. store clerks have asked why i shake. i think it’s pretty rude. of course, being made aware of it makes it worse.&lt;br /&gt;okay, now it’s been almost three hours since sean was supposed to call. i guess she forgot.&lt;br /&gt;bummer.&lt;br /&gt;sean just called at three-thirty. she just woke up. she worked another overnight. we made a plan to meet on tuesday. the squid will be back tuesday. actually, she’s working monday even though it’s a holiday. so she’ll call me in the morning, monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115720990443799724?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115720990443799724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115720990443799724' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720990443799724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720990443799724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/today-is-cigarette-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115720980662926557</id><published>2006-09-02T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T10:10:06.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the basics</title><content type='html'>so i guess i’m going to have to borrow a roll of bath tissue. well, not borrow, but have. that’s when you know that you’ve hit bottom. 35 cents and no bath tissue. i’m stuck here because the gas gauge is on empty and the car is uninsured. i’m doing okay on the no smoking thing. since thursday? i think. i’ve been chewing on toothpicks. maybe not the most attractive way to handle it but it’s just me here so it doesn’t matter. as long as i don’t run with it in my mouth and poke an eye out, i’ll be fine. it’s funny. i dove into an antique tea pot looking for money for cigarettes and found the toothpicks. i also found some Wind Song and four AAA batteries. such packing skills i have. i just thought....i not only have to borrow bath tissue but i have to ask for delivery. terrific. lydia doesn’t have a car. doesn’t have a license. she can have a license now. she had it taken away the last time that she was found  full of klonopin in a field just driving around and around. i could call liz but i’d rather she didn’t know how penniless i am right now. then there’s my sister. she emailed me on wednesday. i got it on thursday. the title of the email was “still upset with me?” that thing that she said that i haven’t shared because it upset me. i tried calling her earlier on her cell phone but got her voicemail and didn’t leave a message. that was before i learned of the great bath tissue shortage. now it’s going to seem that i’m just calling for that. i could ask talksalot. that would be interesting. everyone here would know before tomorrow. they already think that i have an uncurable disease. the male roo is going to paint and stain my part of the porch. i wonder what the appropriate thank you for that is. there was a time when you could just bake a plateful of brownies. now it seems everyone is on a diet. though the roos don’t look like they are on a diet. they’re both kind of overweight. he not so much. but it’s easier for men to be a little overweight than it is for women. it doesn’t show so much on a man. damned men!  &lt;br /&gt;more thoughts on toilet paper......&lt;br /&gt;if i can make it last til monday, the guy who was hired to take sean’s place is supposed to take me to the insurance company, i can embarrass myself to him about the toilet paper and he’ll buy me some. i’m supposed to not pee everytime i feel the need to. training my bladder, marsha said. supposed to help with the nighttime bed wetting.&lt;br /&gt;now that that’s all figured out....&lt;br /&gt;now all i can think of is peeing. great. and poppers. i have the food stamps but unless i want to walk a mile with a full bladder to get them, i’m out of luck.oh hell, i just peed. not the couch. in the appropriate place. must conserve tp, must conserve tp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115720980662926557?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115720980662926557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115720980662926557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720980662926557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720980662926557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/basics.html' title='the basics'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115720970642036628</id><published>2006-09-02T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T10:08:51.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hi everybody</title><content type='html'>this is the first time i've been to the library this week. i like this little library, though it's a little crowded today.&lt;br /&gt;i miss all of you guys. especially in the evening. i miss IMing with teressa. and reading people's blogs at night. i might have enough this month to get the cable turned back on. that would be great. i'm about to kill a guy in here who keeps making reguritating noises. guess that means it's time to go home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115720970642036628?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115720970642036628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115720970642036628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720970642036628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115720970642036628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/09/hi-everybody.html' title='hi everybody'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115617074417925910</id><published>2006-08-21T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T09:32:24.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8-20-06</title><content type='html'>finally cleaned the cat litter box. not as well as i’d like to. chuckie was waiting to use it. i’m usually very good about keeping it clean. i don’t know why i’d been putting it off.&lt;br /&gt;i’ve got news. are you ready?        i vacuumed. i don’t know what came over me. it was scary really. and then i remembered that i used to like to vacuum. i used to like to iron too, especially in the winter. but it was h’s clothes that i ironed. mine don’t need ironing. i used to wear clothes that needed ironing. but not anymore. now i don’t even have an ironing board. got an iron though.&lt;br /&gt;this day seems to be going so slow. no internet. i want to be reading blogs. i’m so bored. yeah, i could do some more housecleaning. some dusting perhaps. hmmm. nope. it freaks the cats out if i clean too much.&lt;br /&gt;i just found a dead bat in the bedroom. ella must have done away with it. she’s the hunter. don’t like the idea of bats in the bedroom but at least ella gets them. first one i’ve found. are there others?&lt;br /&gt;ugh!&lt;br /&gt;i finally set up my speakers for the iPod. i’ve had them for over a year. i’m listening to the dixie chicks (blush.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~monday~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i’m waiting for the library to open.&lt;br /&gt;i resheduled my appt. with the pdoc. for next month when i can get gasoline. but i’ll have to call her about the note for the pissheads.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian will just have to pick me up wednesday. we’re going to the food pantry. so it will be out of her way to come get me. oh well, i assume she gets paid for mileage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115617074417925910?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115617074417925910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115617074417925910' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115617074417925910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115617074417925910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/8-20-06.html' title='8-20-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115591853508714080</id><published>2006-08-18T11:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T11:28:55.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8-18-06</title><content type='html'>the squid just called. she’s away for the next two weeks. did i already say that? &lt;br /&gt;the barbarian is due here any minute.&lt;br /&gt;i’m still not feeling positive towards my sister. not just that she didn’t tell me she was married but something else she said that wasn’t very nice. she hasn’t been very kind to me in a couple of months. she’s been different ever since she got a new therapist. not good different. at least i don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian came today and we took out all the trash and recycling. the apt. looks so much better without boxes of catalogues and junk mail. now you can see the full extent of the cat hair. whoopie!! that's easy enough to clean off with my super-duper red devil hand vac. i told regular nurse that by the time she came again (monday), the living room would be vacuumed. i think i can handle that. this whole need to clean is freaking me out. someone help!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115591853508714080?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115591853508714080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115591853508714080' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115591853508714080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115591853508714080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/8-18-06.html' title='8-18-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115591735349770417</id><published>2006-08-18T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T11:09:13.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8-17-06</title><content type='html'>it’s been over a week since i’ve had to turn on the air conditioner. little bits of rain, but that’s it. it’s been a beautiful low 80s and sunny.&lt;br /&gt;sean is due here any minute. we’re going to the same cafe we went to last week. the coffee was good there and we’re not likely to run into any of her former co-workers there. i feel like i’m having an affair. thursday afternoons, obscure locations.&lt;br /&gt;saw talksalot today. she came to tell me that a couple of people object to my not attending the condo meetings. apparently there was one last night. they said, either she comes or provides a doctor’s note. i could get one saying that attending the meetings (i don’t know how to spell...) exacerbates my condition. don’t have to say what condition that is. their reasoning for making sure i go is so that i get to hear the opinions on the issues instead of voting blind. the truth is probably that if they have to sit through the meetings, i should have to suffer as well. can’t blame them for that. but both sean and the barbarian said they can't make me attend. poor fuckers. i haven't decided what i'm going to do yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just got back from meeting with sean. we had a good time. i asked her about her new position. she said it was much less stress, though it was hard leaving her clients. i’m glad she didn’t leave me behind. it’s so good to see her. again two hours went by before we knew it. the coffee was pretty good. they put a little too much ice in. long on ice, short on coffee.&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, the barbarian comes to help with the trash and hopefully the piles of recycling. after that we’ll probably go to the grocery store. it’s peanut butter and jelly tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115591735349770417?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115591735349770417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115591735349770417' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115591735349770417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115591735349770417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/8-17-06.html' title='8-17-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115565965670362233</id><published>2006-08-15T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T11:34:16.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7-13-06</title><content type='html'>teressa just called. it was a nice surprise. unfortunately, i was tired and didn’t have much to say.&lt;br /&gt;i took three seroquels and i’m a little out of it. i thought they’d help me take a nap. just feel a little punchy. i’m tired but i can’t sleep. &lt;br /&gt;friday was my brother’s birthday. i didn’t call him. i just didn’t want to talk to him. i know that’s awful but i can’t help it. i used the excuse that he didn’t call on my birthday. pretty lame. he knows my number, just not where i live. and i like it that way. i don’t ever want them to come to my house. they’ll give the place cooties. i truly believe that. that’s a felony, isn’t it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115565965670362233?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115565965670362233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115565965670362233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115565965670362233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115565965670362233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/7-13-06_15.html' title='7-13-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115556893850693251</id><published>2006-08-14T10:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T10:22:18.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7-14-06</title><content type='html'>waiting for the squid to call then i’m headed to the library. i think i am at least. it’s hard to go out. i’m glad i have the library though it’s so hard to get myself out there.&lt;br /&gt;the squid is late calling today. i’ll wait another half hour.&lt;br /&gt;the library shouldn’t be crowded on a monday morning. the trick will be finding a parking place. they don’t have a parking lot, the only place to park is on the street and they’re doing some work on the library, so the trucks pretty much take up all the street parking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now at the library. there's almost no one here. a couple of people on the library computers. mostly i can just hear the sound of the air conditioner in the window.&lt;br /&gt;it's going to take a few trips here before i can catch up on everyones' blogs. i'm off to read about Babs world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115556893850693251?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115556893850693251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115556893850693251' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556893850693251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556893850693251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/7-14-06_14.html' title='7-14-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115556860740791580</id><published>2006-08-14T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T10:16:47.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7-13-06</title><content type='html'>teressa just called. it was a nice surprise. unfortunately, i was tired and didn’t have much to say.&lt;br /&gt;i took three seroquels and i’m a little out of it. i thought they’d help me take a nap. just feel a little punchy. i’m tired but i can’t sleep. &lt;br /&gt;friday was my brother’s birthday. i didn’t call him. i just didn’t want to talk to him. i know that’s awful but i can’t help it. i used the excuse that he didn’t call on my birthday. pretty lame. he knows my number, just not where i live. and i like it that way. i don’t ever want them to come to my house. they’ll give the place cooties. i truly believe that. that’s a felony, isn’t it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115556860740791580?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115556860740791580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115556860740791580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556860740791580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556860740791580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/7-13-06.html' title='7-13-06'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115556855422084810</id><published>2006-08-14T10:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T10:15:54.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>stuff and things</title><content type='html'>friday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i met the barbairian friday morning for coffee. she knew that the library in town here had internet internet access. mine got shut off. so you won’t be hearing from me as much now. i’m not even asking how much i need to pay to get it turned back on. i know i can’t afford it this month. i used the internet a lot more than i thought. i miss the IM.&lt;br /&gt;my sister is being weird. not just about her getting married without telling me.  but she always has something negative to say to me. about me. i’ve decided that i’m not going to see her or talk to her for a while. i feel shitty enough with out someone adding to that . this last thing was about my going over to her house with my hair looking dirty. i got this neutrogena shampoo that gives you seinfeld hair.  she told me to take a shower before i came over. she goes nuts if i have a spot on my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;the pdoc has me on a beverage with elecolytes. she believes my falling and all is due to an electrolite imbalance. it’s not very tasty. i bought some at BJs wednesday. marsha actually called while i was there to make sure that i had bought it or was buying it. i got to tell her that it was in the shopping cart. i hate sweet drinks, except for coffee coolatatttas. and hot chocolate. or milkshakes, of course. wednesday i got some lemon juice. i like lemon juice with water. no sugar. my own version of lemonade.&lt;br /&gt;wendnesday, h was escorting me home. those back roads can be confusing so he led with his truck until we got to the main route. he suddenly screeched to a halt. i almost slammed into the back of his truck. a little family of racoons was crossing the street. i forget what he said he saw on the way home. a deer, but there were a couple of other animals.&lt;br /&gt;obviously his father lives out in the country. it was fun to go to his father’s. h did most of the cooking. he’s a very good potato masher. i had told him to buy red potatoes, so that he wouldn’t have to peel. he remembered the red potatoes&lt;br /&gt;but forgot the part about not peeling them. he proudly showed me how well he peeled the potatoes i should have just shut up and praised him on his peeling skills, but i opened my mouth and told him the reason i asked for red potatoes was because they didn’t need to be peeled. so when i praised him  on the mashed potatoes, all he could think of was that he peeled them when he shouldn’t have. i kept telling him it was all right. that he hadn’t ruined them or anything.&lt;br /&gt; the chicken was excellent, we put it in my secret marinade and cooked it on the grill. and i steamed some green beans.&lt;br /&gt; i could have/should have cooked more chicken. h ate his in like five minutes. then he started filling up on mashed potatoes. of which there were plenty. he cut up enough for .....for a lot of people. S, h’s father’s girlfriend, made garlic bread. i love garlic bread. she makes an excellent garlic bread. better than any of the resaurants around here. &lt;br /&gt;we were sitting around the dining room table dunking strawberries into chocolate. h’s father went to bed. S asked h and i how long we’ve known each other. uh oh. i had no idea.  i mouthed to her that i didn’t know. h saw me. i think it hurt his feelings that i didn’t know. he just shook his head. but i remembered our first date and talked about it. i think that made him feel a little better. he brightened up a bit. i think we’ve known each for about 11 years. he made reference to 11 and a half in an email or something recently. but i didn’t want to say it and have it be wrong.&lt;br /&gt;oh, how the hell could i forget? sean called on thursday. we’re meeting next thursday. betcha all didn’t think that would happen. it was so good to hear her voice. and it’ll be good to see her. it’s....i can’t keep track of how long it’s been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115556855422084810?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115556855422084810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115556855422084810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556855422084810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556855422084810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/stuff-and-things.html' title='stuff and things'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115556848707222915</id><published>2006-08-14T10:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T10:14:47.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>seeing sean</title><content type='html'>just came back from meeting with sean. after a huge hug we headed for coffee. before we knew it two and a half hours had gone by. i’m going to see her again next week. i’m already looking forward to it. i’ve missed her so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115556848707222915?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115556848707222915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115556848707222915' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556848707222915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556848707222915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/seeing-sean.html' title='seeing sean'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115556842586821633</id><published>2006-08-14T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T10:13:46.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wtf?</title><content type='html'>~tuesday~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just found out through email that my sister has been married since june. wtf? he wanted a service with just them and her two boys. fine. is she supposed to keep it a secret too? it’s ridiculous. not to tell your own sister. of course, she hasn’t been very kind to me of late.&lt;br /&gt; she’s been totally weird these last few months. since before the ‘wedding.’ she doesn’t even tell her sister that she’s getting married. that’s just odd. she’d be incredibly hurt if i did that to her. it’s just odd. i’m not hurt, just kind of pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;i’m happy to report that i have not peed my pants in several days. she took away one of the nighttime meds. and (cross my fingers) that seems to have done the trick. i’m pee-free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~wednesday~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got my food stamps card in the mail. can’t use it yet because they haven’t sent me the PIN yet.the barbarian said they always send them out separately.&lt;br /&gt;the squid said that she kind of liked her nickname. she asked if it was “squid” or “the squid.” i told her it was “the squid” she seemed to be satisfied with that.&lt;br /&gt;i get to see sean tomorrow afternoon. ya hew!  gosh it will be good to see her. it’s been weeks and weeks. the squid asked if i minded if they talked to each other on a regular basis. i said, no, i didn’t mind. the squid said that she had a nice conversation with sean, said she liked her. that she thought sean cared a lot about me. i guess she might be right if sean is not getting paid to see me, but is making time for me anyway. that’s how cool sean is. it may have taken her a while, but she came through. yay!&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian wants me to ditch the cable modem and get a land line and some cheap internet access. not going to happen. i’ve been spoiled with the modem for too many years to go back to dial up. dirty word “dial-up.” and i don’t want another damned phone. one is more than enough. i hate talking on the phone. i hate talking period. i prefer to type. it’s a lot easier.  and listening has always been easier for me than talking.&lt;br /&gt;even when i was a kid other people would come to me when they had a problem, just to talk it out. even adults. and i’d wonder why this adult was talking to me about a certain thing. why weren’t they talking to another adult?&lt;br /&gt;i just put in some poppers. yeah, poppers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115556842586821633?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115556842586821633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115556842586821633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556842586821633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115556842586821633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/wtf_14.html' title='wtf?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115505096882300825</id><published>2006-08-08T10:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T10:29:28.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cat krap</title><content type='html'>heya Babs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to take your link off my page and all i could see in the template was Cat Krap. none of the names. am i being dense? is this some bored alien playing with my page? i am going to head home (i'm at the library now) but i'll come back tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take care, &lt;br /&gt;Lisa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115505096882300825?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115505096882300825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115505096882300825' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115505096882300825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115505096882300825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/cat-krap.html' title='cat krap'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115504817404572899</id><published>2006-08-08T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T09:42:54.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sunday</title><content type='html'>slept a little late this morning. the benefit of no nurses on the weekends.&lt;br /&gt;i keep getting this fucking spam on my cell phone. very frustrating. should be against the law. all spam and telemarketing should be against the law. hey, if i want your services, i’ll find you. honest.&lt;br /&gt;someone’s  wireless is showing up on my computer. they have it lock though. i never put a password on my wireless. i figured the more people who used it the better. especially people who couldn’t afford it. this person apparently doesn’t feel that way. fucktards.&lt;br /&gt;the electrolite drink isn’t so bad. the kiwi-strawberry especially. i forgot to ask how often i’m supposted to drink it.&lt;br /&gt;i just sent h a t text message asking if he’d fallen asleep lately. hehehehe. i’m never going to let him forget that. i’ve had guys fallen asleep during a massage but not during a deep kiss before. nope. nope not going to let him forget this.and neither will she, would i imagine. he’s going to be downright sorry that he told me.&lt;br /&gt;oh, i saw a humming bird (a small one) at h’s father’s wednesday. it was coming pretty close to us. he likes some kind of weed.. i don’t think i’ve ever seen a humming bird before. i probably said that the last time i saw a humming bird..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115504817404572899?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115504817404572899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115504817404572899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504817404572899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504817404572899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/sunday.html' title='sunday'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115504808608877597</id><published>2006-08-08T09:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T09:41:26.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>saturday</title><content type='html'>the power was out for a while. it was getting pretty uncomfortable in here. now it’s come back on. i love my air conditioner. i feel like hugging it. i don’t know what the temperature is out there because i don’t have a thermometer and i can’t check it on the web. but it’s nice and cool in here now.&lt;br /&gt;i just blew my budget and ordered a pizza. i asked for tomato, picturing nice sliced fresh tomatoes. they used canned tomato. ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115504808608877597?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115504808608877597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115504808608877597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504808608877597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504808608877597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/saturday.html' title='saturday'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115504795647645515</id><published>2006-08-08T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T09:39:16.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>friday</title><content type='html'>i met the barbairian friday morning for coffee. she knew that the library in town here had internet internet access. mine got shut off. so you won’t be hearing from me as much now. i’m not even asking how much i need to pay to get it turned back on. i know i can’t afford it this month. i used the internet a lot more than i thought. i miss the IM.&lt;br /&gt;my sister is being weird. not just about her getting married without telling me.  but she always has something negative to say to me. about me. i’ve decided that i’m not going to see her or talk to her for a while. i feel shitty enough with out someone adding to that . this last thing was about my going over to her house with my hair looking dirty. i got this neutrogena shampoo that gives you seinfeld hair.  she told me to take a shower before i came over. she goes nuts if i have a spot on my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;the pdoc has me on a beverage with elecolytes. she believes my falling and all is due to an electrolite imbalance. it’s not very tasty. i bought some at BJs wednesday. marsha actually called while i was there to make sure that i had bought it or was buying it. i got to tell her that it was in the shopping cart. i hate sweet drinks, except for coffee coolatatttas. and hot chocolate. or milkshakes, of course. wednesday i got some lemon juice. i like lemon juice with water. no sugar. my own version of lemonade.&lt;br /&gt;wendnesday, h was escorting me home. those back roads can be confusing so he led with his truck until we got to the main route. he suddenly screeched to a halt. i almost slammed into the back of his truck. a little family of racoons was crossing the street. i forget what he said he saw on the way home. a deer, but there were a couple of other animals.&lt;br /&gt;obviously his father lives out in the country. it was fun to go to his father’s. h did most of the cooking. he’s a very good potato masher. i had told him to buy red potatoes, so that he wouldn’t have to peel. he remembered the red potatoes&lt;br /&gt;but forgot the part about not peeling them. he proudly showed me how well he peeled the potatoes i should have just shut up and praised him on his peeling skills, but i opened my mouth and told him the reason i asked for red potatoes was because they didn’t need to be peeled. so when i praised him  on the mashed potatoes, all he could think of was that he peeled them when he shouldn’t have. i kept telling him it was all right. that he hadn’t ruined them or anything.&lt;br /&gt; the chicken was excellent, we put it in my secret marinade and cooked it on the grill. and i steamed some green beans.&lt;br /&gt; i could have/should have cooked more chicken. h ate his in like five minutes. then he started filling up on mashed potatoes. of which there were plenty. he cut up enough for .....for a lot of people. S, h’s father’s girlfriend, made garlic bread. i love garlic bread. she makes an excellent garlic bread. better than any of the resaurants around here. &lt;br /&gt;we were sitting around the dining room table dunking strawberries into chocolate. h’s father went to bed. S asked h and i how long we’ve known each other. uh oh. i had no idea.  i mouthed to her that i didn’t know. h saw me. i think it hurt his feelings that i didn’t know. he just shook his head. but i remembered our first date and talked about it. i think that made him feel a little better. he brightened up a bit. i think we’ve known each for about 11 years. he made reference to 11 and a half in an email or something recently. but i didn’t want to say it and have it be wrong.&lt;br /&gt;oh, how the hell could i forget? sean called on thursday. we’re meeting next thursday. betcha all didn’t think that would happen. it was so good to hear her voice. and it’ll be good to see her. it’s....i can’t keep track of how long it’s been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115504795647645515?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115504795647645515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115504795647645515' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504795647645515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115504795647645515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/08/friday.html' title='friday'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115438849072714006</id><published>2006-07-31T17:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T18:28:10.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>phucking hot</title><content type='html'>tomorrow, it's supposed to reach 100 and wednesday, 102. and humid. i'll get out early for my appt. with the squid. and depending on what time the mail comes, i might be out looking for a bank to be open. then wednesday, i'll be going out at noon to meat the barbarian. glad she has a/c in her vehicle. tomorrow, i should go to the garage and have him show me how he got the hood open. i tried and nothing happened. to get the whole thing fixed would cost 70 dollars. i'm not ready for that yet. i have a negative bank balance that has to be taken care of first. i hate the bank. you have no money, so they charge you for having no money. quite the racket they have going. i hate the bank. hate it, hate it, hate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115438849072714006?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115438849072714006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115438849072714006' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115438849072714006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115438849072714006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/phucking-hot.html' title='phucking hot'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115427979889597435</id><published>2006-07-30T12:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T15:23:16.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm grounded</title><content type='html'>yep, my router went south. no more surfing on the third floor or in bed. i called h to see if i missed any steps in making sure it was the router. yep, the router. i'm going to bring it with me when i go up there for dinner wednesday. he's got another router. i was panicking for a little while. i can't go without my internet.now i'm leashed to my modem with a pretty green ethernet cord. green is my favorite color. boy this iBook is getting hot.&lt;br /&gt;this morning i spent ten minutes, yes ten minutes, looking for my glasses. any of you smartasses who say, they're on your head, well, you're right. i was going nuts looking for them. wondering what i was going to do. i really thought that i'd lost them. dumb ass. i'd still be looking for them if i hadn't gone to rub my eye and hit a lens. i'm just glad no one was here to see me.&lt;br /&gt;oh, duckylady must be in the pool. her floaty is gone. those damn things. i can never get on them, they throw me off. i think it requires a special talent. oh ducklady has a special talent. who would have thought?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115427979889597435?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115427979889597435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115427979889597435' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115427979889597435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115427979889597435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-grounded.html' title='i&apos;m grounded'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115421408500739988</id><published>2006-07-29T14:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T18:01:25.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it happened again</title><content type='html'>this is about the third or fourth time this has happened. i was standing by the counter and my legs gave out. first they started shaking and finally i ended up on my backside on the floor.almost in the litter box. i try hard to stand up but i just can't. i have no control. i looked yet another time at the side effects of the clozaril. one of them was quivering. that's a hell of a quiver. i'm worried about it happening when i'm out somewhere. that's another reason not to leave the house. great.&lt;br /&gt;mustard stains? but i didn't have mustard today, or yesterday. i have spots in exactly the same place on my shirt that i did yesterday. what the hell?  finally figured out they were from my precious oranges. i dribble a lot.&lt;br /&gt;well, i might get my chance to go swimming. there's a place called musante beach that the barbarian asked me if i wanted to go to. there's also a YMCA pass. so i could go with or without the barbarian. but i don't have a bathing suit. i haven't been to the store recently, they probably have all the fall clothes out.&lt;br /&gt;eww, i just looked in the box from the food pantry and they gave me canned green beans.I HATE CANNED GREEN BEANS! i love fresh ones. steamed with a little ginger. i'm going to h's father's house wed. for dinner. h and i are going to doing the cooking.&lt;br /&gt;he has this new friend that he met on the web. yesterday he told me that he fell asleep during a deep kiss. i tried not to laugh too much. the good thing about IM is that you can LYAO without the other person knowing.&lt;br /&gt;i'd kill for a pizza long about now. the only thing about the food pantry is that you get a lot of canned stuff, vegetables and fruit, but you don't really get meals, except for the macaroni and cheese. which is what i'll be having tonight. i wish it was Stouffers but it's out of a box. should still be good.&lt;br /&gt;no cleaning yet. spent the day napping.&lt;br /&gt;my sister is being weird. i left her a message on wednesday or thursday and i haven't heard from her. i asked her if she wanted my extra a/c and asked her when she got married. i haven't talked to her since the beginning of the week.i don't know why she's being  so secretive about the whole thing. to not tell your sister that you got married? that's just weird. the only reason i know is because she was talking about the doctor putting the wrong last name on her scripts. the whole thing is very weird. like she's embarrassed about the whole thing. i don't know.just plain weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115421408500739988?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115421408500739988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115421408500739988' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115421408500739988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115421408500739988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/it-happened-again.html' title='it happened again'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115414187337768208</id><published>2006-07-28T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T21:57:53.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i raided the penny penguin</title><content type='html'>dreadfully in need of cigarettes, i broke into the penguin. he's about two feet high. the whole at the bottom is meant to put sand in. i drilled a hole in his head, filed it into a slot, and in the pennies go. anyway, i didn't think that i had much but it got me over eight dollars at one of those little coin machines.that's two packs of cigarettes. yippeee! and there are more pennies in there.&lt;br /&gt;today would have been my mother's 72nd birthday. i don't really feel anything about it. never been one to let anniversaries get to me. if there's a time that gets to me it's early winter, watching her die just after christmas. i should go to the cemetery to clean up the graves. my dad's is always well tended. he's in the same plot as my grandmother, grandfather, a great aunt. my uncle keeps it nice. but there's my mother's, my brother's and my grandmother and grandfather's. my sister won't go to the cemetery and i know my brother doesn't so it leaves me. but i won't go on about that. but if sean was still around, i'd ask her to go with me. if i moved with my trowel, i have no idea where it is. but i don't want to go with the barbarian. she's all right. i'm starting to like her a ilttle more. she's starting to get my sense of humor. hell, sometimes i don't get my sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;the squid will be back on tuesday. doesn't feel like it's been two weeks.sometimes when she is pondering what to say, the expression on her face looks like she's trying to open a pickle jar. i guess that would make me the pickle jar.&lt;br /&gt;even with sean gone, i'm starting to feel better. the magical clozaril. i actually feel like cleaning the apartment. i think i'll tackle that this weekend. the nurse will faint on monday. though it won't be regular nurse. she'll faint on wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;the severe thunderstorms we were supposed to have never appeared. it's cool enough now though to have just the fan on the a/c. and the front door open. the only cat who's out is ella. so i can't go to bed until she comes in.&lt;br /&gt;no nurse tomorrow so i get to try to sleep late. yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115414187337768208?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115414187337768208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115414187337768208' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115414187337768208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115414187337768208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-raided-penny-penguin.html' title='i raided the penny penguin'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115411146153509739</id><published>2006-07-28T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T13:31:01.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a-oo-gah!</title><content type='html'>frozen bananas. chocolate covered frozen bananas lime popsicles. italian ice. slush puppies. ah, the summer foods of my youth. so far i've had fudgicles. but my haste brought me to accidently get sugar free. not quite the same. should have gone for the popsicles. sighhhh&lt;br /&gt;i got some wonderful oranges at the food pantry. they don't usually have fresh produce. the barbarian picked up some romaine lettuce for me too. though i don't know  what i'm going to use it for. i have to get some bread. the bread from the food pantry was dry and crunchy and very stale. i felt like i was going to break a tooth trying to bite into it. don't know why i take bread from there. it's always that way. it's inedible. i'm a slow learner.&lt;br /&gt;wednesday, once i've gotten my check, we're going to Costco. i don't know if that's a national chain or not. but they sell items in bulk.&lt;br /&gt;saw marian (oops), the barbarian for trash and coffee.  got all my papers together to apply for food stamps.&lt;br /&gt;the strangest thing is happening. everytime i look at the clock on the puter, it's smack dab on the hour. it's starting to freak me out. really. i'm sure it's the work of evil-doers. sooner or later, the bat-faced little fuckers will show themselves.&lt;br /&gt;i just pulled out all my change to get some bread. had a tuna sandwich i even got peanut butter from the food pantry. peanut butter sandwiches. and i have some preserves that i got last month or the month before. peanut butter and jelly sammiches, yea! it's too bad they don't give out butter or half and half.i'm kind of surprised that they don't give butter. i guess they dont' get it because it has a long shelf life.&lt;br /&gt;i told the barbarian about my hands spasming and my dropping things. i didn't know whether to call the pdoc or the regular doc. she said to start out with the pdoc first. of course, she's not in on fridays. i'll have to call her first thing on monday. i felt like all i was talking today was gibberish. having a hard time thinking of words.i could tell by the look on the barbarian's face when i wasn't making sense. it was really hard to talk to her today. literally. the words kept escaping me. it was frustrating me.&lt;br /&gt;we're supposed to get some serious thunderstorms this afternoon. wish i could send them to you, Babs.&lt;br /&gt;ella's outside. i'll have to get her in before they start. i don't know why she's choosing to be outside in the 90+ degrees.&lt;br /&gt;when i went outside, my glasses fogged up. i hate that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115411146153509739?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115411146153509739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115411146153509739' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115411146153509739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115411146153509739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/oo-gah.html' title='a-oo-gah!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115402862689822147</id><published>2006-07-27T14:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T14:30:26.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>no salt added</title><content type='html'>you kind of take it for granted that cottage cheese is going to have a little salt in it. i went to the food pantry yesterday and got some no salt added cottage cheese. the choice was that or powdered milk. so i went up to my sisters and got some salt in a ziploc bag. i don't have salt in the house. i never use it. great, i just put way too much in. it tastes like cottage cheese flavored salt. fortunately, i got two containers of cottage cheese so that i can just add some from the other container and it won't be so awful. ain't i smart?&lt;br /&gt;i took all my prns hoping to go to sleep. still wide awake. sometimes, it feels like those things don't do a thing.&lt;br /&gt;i'm off to make some macaroni and cheese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115402862689822147?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115402862689822147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115402862689822147' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115402862689822147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115402862689822147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/no-salt-added.html' title='no salt added'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115386661367867164</id><published>2006-07-25T16:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T17:30:14.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yes, we have no bananas</title><content type='html'>i guess i'm not going to the food pantry tomorrow. never heard from the barbarian. i could have called her, but i'm not that hungry yet. since i cancelled on her both days last week, she may be waiting for me to call. if you ask me, it's her job to check on me. if she read any part of my file, she knows that i tend to isolate. and won't neccessarily speak up if i have no food. it's easier to write in here than it is to ask for her help. the office is closed but i can still leave her voicemail. i guess i'm going to have to. it's much easier to leave a message. damn, i miss sean. she never would have let a week go by without speaking to me. she would have showed up at the door.&lt;br /&gt;okay, left a message for the barbarian. i hope we can go to the food pantry tomorrow. i'm really hungry. i'm holding off having the pineapple until i'm really, really hungry. hey it's my blog and i can write about food/no food if i want to. i'd love one of those burgers Babs brought back from her dad's. &lt;br /&gt;okay enough about food. saw marsha today instead of tomorrow. i ended up going to get my meds. i've been a nervous wreck driving. afraid i'm going to hit something or someone. like i can't keep track of what i'm doing. can't pay attention.  sometimes it feels like a video game. man, i certainly am whiny today. i'll stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115386661367867164?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115386661367867164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115386661367867164' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115386661367867164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115386661367867164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/yes-we-have-no-bananas.html' title='yes, we have no bananas'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115384977044408608</id><published>2006-07-25T09:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T12:49:30.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston, we have a problem</title><content type='html'>i bought a different shampoo and i hate it. it weighs my hair down. makes it look dirty. like on Seinfeld when they put the low pressure showerheads in and everyone's hair was flat. it was Neutrogena, i thought it would be good. there's six bucks down the drain. literally. i get my check on monday. one of the first things i'll get is some decent shampoo. most shampoos make my hair look like someone rubbed a balloon on it. at least it's just long enough to put in a ponytail. the place i usually go to get my hair cut costs 32dollars with the five dollar tip included. it's outrageous. there's a place here who gives haircuts for ten bucks. but i don't want to break in a new person. maybe next month. the last time i got a haircut for ten dollars, it was a disaster. but that was a different place. this place, regular nurse said her daughter went and got a "cute" haircut.&lt;br /&gt;haven't heard from the barbarian. i wonder if we'll be going to the food pantry tomorrow. i have nothing in the house except a can of pineapple and some marshmallows that i got for the chocolate fountain. i ate one and it was so gross. all sugar. i used to love marshmallows when i was a kid. guess it's one of those things like...like something or other. perhaps like cotton candy. i've been craving that for months. i have a  little more than a month before the fair comes to town. can get cotton candy there. that and fried dough. i love fried dough. most people go to the fair for the horse racing. i hate horse racing. dog racing. any of that. i like to see the animals. bunnies, chicks, etc. the last time i went they had a biting horse. why they chose a horse with that kind of personality to show, i don't know. they had a couple of signs that said not to try to pet him. then, why have him there? they had ducklings, they were so cute. not like the ducks in this neighborhood.:) they were running around stepping on each other. falling over each other. years ago, a friend of mine and her husband had to live with his parents while their house was being built and she had several bunnies. it got really cold out and the MIL bitch wouldn't let my friend bring the bunnies in the house and they froze to death. i felt so bad for her. and i doubt that her MIL felt the least bit guilty. she was a real bitch. i don't know how my friend lived with them. the MIL from hell. when my mother had an a/c before h and i did, i used to take the mice over there when it got really hot. h even rigged them up a fan from a computer to cool them off. ii miss having mice. but i don't trust anyone to determine the sex of a mouse. last time i was supposed to have two females, yeah right. eleven baby mice later... and i never want to have male mice again. their urine smells to high heaven. like cat spray, only worse. much worse. if you get it on your clothes, the smell never goes away. instant rag. smelly rag. good for checking your oil.&lt;br /&gt;it's starting to get hot in here. doh, maybe i should turn on the a/c.....in a little bit. okay, it's been a little bit, the a/c has been activated. much better.&lt;br /&gt;the nurse this morning didn't have all of my pills. she's supposed to call to make arrangemnts to get them to me. i'm going to make them come to me. trying, like the rest of the country, to save gasoline. they get paid for mileage, i don't.&lt;br /&gt;regular nurse told me this morning that i should get my blood drawn again on friday and to plan to start going on friday from now on. apparently there's a lot of paperwork and a lot of people involved in the process and it's not getting done in time. thus, no pills. they can't prescribe the pills every week until they get the results of my blood work. it's all a pain in the ass, i guess. so i get to be stabbed twice this week. yippee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115384977044408608?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115384977044408608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115384977044408608' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115384977044408608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115384977044408608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/houston-we-have-problem.html' title='Houston, we have a problem'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115377539255920377</id><published>2006-07-24T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T16:09:53.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just a pinch...</title><content type='html'>just came from getting my blood drawn. i don't know why but it's starting to bother me. never did before. maybe it's the every week thing. i used to like watching the tube fill up, now i don't watch any of it. she left me with a nasty bruise this morning.&lt;br /&gt;oh, the mail. i hate the mail. oh,surprise. it seems to be only a catalog, i can deal with that. :) sean used to take the recycling. now i have to throw it out.&lt;br /&gt;ducklady just got in her pool. bitch. oops, did i say that? it's a perfect day for swimming. for the lake or the beach. i'd like to just float on my back in the water. i've never been skinny-dipping. am i the only one? i'd do a survey, but i forget where to get that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;okay, i'm out of things to say.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115377539255920377?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115377539255920377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115377539255920377' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115377539255920377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115377539255920377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-pinch.html' title='just a pinch...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115350899045947581</id><published>2006-07-21T10:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T14:09:50.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>very frustrating</title><content type='html'>i can't read people's posts unless they're short. i just don't have the concentration. i'm having the same problem with email. it's pissing me off.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian was supposed to come here today. i called and cancelled. one difference between her and sean. sean would call and see if i was all right. the barbarian doesn't. i cancelled on her twice this week.so i didn't see her at all. and she doesn't seem at all concerned. i could be totally decompensating and she wouldn't know. it's her job to make sure i'm okay. maybe she's just respecting my decision. she still should be making sure that i'm all right. like i said, it's her job.&lt;br /&gt;it's taking me forever to write this post. i can't think of the words that i want.&lt;br /&gt;oh, i give up. i'll come back when my thoughts are clearer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115350899045947581?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115350899045947581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115350899045947581' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115350899045947581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115350899045947581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/very-frustrating.html' title='very frustrating'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115342056241542667</id><published>2006-07-20T13:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T07:33:14.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bless the a/cs</title><content type='html'>i don't care if the little weather pixie says it's only in the eighties. it's damned humid and i just turned on my a/c. so shoot me for being a wuss. i cough less when it's on. the arthritis in my knees feels better when it's on. the humidity makes the pain in my knees almost unbearable. it's brought tears to my eyes a few times. i don't know how people live in pain all the time. my sister does, with her back. there are a lot of things she can't do but she's a trooper.&lt;br /&gt;so what about this dew point crap? what does it mean? i got the definition off dictionary.com. but what does it really mean? the higher it is, what? is it better to be higher or lower? and why do i care? i just checked my weather pixie to find that they think it's only 79 degrees. and found that they had the dew point on there as well. i figure, if i'm ever on Jeopardy, knowing what a dew point means could come in handy.&lt;br /&gt;i tried taking a nap but couldn't. i haven't been taking naps since they went up on the clozaril. it's supposed to be sedating.&lt;br /&gt;i have to call the dr. and make an appt. about my couch. er, cough. this peeing and vomiting is not acceptable. i'll call tomorrow. i should have called today. the last time i was there, he used the term "wad of mucus." isn't there some medical term for that? one that doesn't sound so disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;i was talking to someone and asked how long i should wait before i give up on sean calling. her opinion was that if she was going to call, she'd have done it alreay. made my heart sink. but i think she's right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115342056241542667?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115342056241542667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115342056241542667' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115342056241542667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115342056241542667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/bless-acs.html' title='bless the a/cs'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115335476316145495</id><published>2006-07-19T18:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T19:19:23.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i called sean</title><content type='html'>got her voicemail. last evening. left her some kind of stupid message that i don't even remember. i figure, if she doesn't call back in a couple of days, i'll consider her lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115335476316145495?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115335476316145495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115335476316145495' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115335476316145495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115335476316145495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-called-sean.html' title='i called sean'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115322247180923280</id><published>2006-07-18T06:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T06:34:31.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>denise kindly told me how do links on my posts. guesss what? i don't have that option. fuckin damn, damn, damn.&lt;br /&gt;i LOVE my mac. wouldn't have anything else. but so many things aren't mac-friendly, i just want to rip someone's head off.&lt;br /&gt;most of the animated films are done on macs. Monsters Inc. all the ones like that. the Pixar ones.&lt;br /&gt;ah, the ducklady just got into her pool. i can't see them once they're in there. there's a fence. but it's an above ground pool so i can see them climbing in and out. it's fucking hot out there. high 90s. heat index of 100.&lt;br /&gt;h didn't say no to going to the lake at the state park. he didn't say yes either. he's good at that. but usually no yes at the beginning means no. maybe i'll invite lydia. haven't seen her in a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115322247180923280?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115322247180923280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115322247180923280' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115322247180923280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115322247180923280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/denise-kindly-told-me-how-do-links-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115312012799127743</id><published>2006-07-17T02:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T02:08:48.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>no mac, no mac, windoze</title><content type='html'>Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;last night was kind of tough. i'm not sure why.i tried to get into the Asylum chat but it wouldn't let me in. not designed for macs. am i the only one out here with a mac? dammit. i miss all the good stuff.damn. damn. damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;i think i slept through most of saturday. if it wasn't for my puter telliing me when it was, i'd have no idea. i missed two calls. i just listened to the voice mail. i guess i was really out of it to miss two calls. the phone is only a foot away from me when i sleep. and it still plays the theme to Sesame Street. maybe i need something like John Phillips Sousa. but i like my sesame street. it makes people smile.&lt;br /&gt;just got off the phone with h. it's amazing how much time he has to call and email now that he's been dumped. and he's already on some online dating services. he really hates to be alone. if it was me, i'd think that i'd want a little time before diving into the pool again. i didn't tell him that, i just thought it. he knows what's best for him, i guess. i hope.&lt;br /&gt;he was out there with no shirt to clip his headset to, so it was just dangling while he threw firewook into the truck. it fell out a few times.  he actually tried to clip it to his ear and found that was not a good idea, painwise.&lt;br /&gt;i have no obligations tomorrow. no squid, no barbarian, nothing except getting my blood drawn. and the regular nursing visit. sometimes i'm so sick of all the nurses. but currently, they are neccessary. some days i see no one but the nurses. i long for a cabin in the woods. with wonderful plumbing and heating. and a fireplace, and a jacuzzi. and someone to pay for all that.&lt;br /&gt;i was IMing someone earlier today and she said, she didn't comment because she couldn't think of something funny to say. i told her it didn't have to be funny. okay, she never reads my blog, it's tiny. and i think she could use some support right now. she said she's feeling disconnected from every one. some support emails might help. hey babs or denise! how do i make tiny's address linked to her name? i went search through a tutoriial and only managed to lose the post. thank goodness for 'recover post." everything does seem kind of abnormal around here. no one is posting very much. and next time i will remember to open a new tab before going to the tutorial.&lt;br /&gt;i went to get some cigarettes today and was behind someone wearing wearing a shirt of someone with a NASCAR name who will not be mentioned in this blog. i almost threw up. i had to thoink of england and carry on.&lt;br /&gt;right now i'm trying to decide what to cut with. i can go get my bood drawn as long as i tell them which arm. as long as i get the vanilla smelling tourniquet put on my right arm, i'll be fine. i don't know why it smells like vanilla. i've commented on it a couple of times. they don't know why either. i think i'll ask for a strawberry tourniquet tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;hell it seems a lot later than it is.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Duck went without a shirt today. one of those middle aged men who shoudn't go without a shirt on. but he was going in the pool, so....&lt;br /&gt;i can see them going in and out, because it's an above ground pool. i should  cut him a break. it was 94 to 96 today. and no breeze. and the duck lady looks even funnier in shorts. it looks lke the ducklady..oy vey. it looks like the ducklady is trying to look like a duck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115312012799127743?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115312012799127743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115312012799127743' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115312012799127743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115312012799127743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/no-mac-no-mac-windoze.html' title='no mac, no mac, windoze'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115292538913272766</id><published>2006-07-14T17:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T20:03:09.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>close call</title><content type='html'>i finally took the car to the garage today. (the oil light had been flashing and i couldn't get the hood open) i didn't go to my regular one, i took to a place a couple blocks away, that my sister had suggested. he popped the hood open in two seconds and showed me how to do it. no, i'm not that stupid, the cable is broken. his employee pulled the dipstick- no oil! wtf? if i had driven to my regular place...well, goodness knows what could have happened. the whole car could have been ruined. it's a great car. a corolla. green.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian was here today. she brought coffee thinking we were going to go through all my bills. hahaha silly her. she ended up following me to the garage then we went to the grocers while they were working on the car. my exciting purchase was cherries. haven't had any yet. i haven't had cherries in years, literally.&lt;br /&gt;so the squid was supposed to call sean last evening. she called this morning and apologized for forgetting. i had a feeling that once she got home, she'd forget. now the squid is on vacation for two weeks. she asked me if i'd be comfortable calling sean. i said, i guess i could do that, thinking, no i can't do that. i don't know what i am going to do. i wish sean would just come back. dammit! it would be so good to see her.it's been a month, i think, since i've seen her.&lt;br /&gt;i'm stilll faking it with the barbarian. that sounds odd, doesn't it? some s and m. did i get that right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115292538913272766?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115292538913272766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115292538913272766' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115292538913272766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115292538913272766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/close-call.html' title='close call'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115282706077634116</id><published>2006-07-13T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T17:24:39.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cleavage information</title><content type='html'>newly discovered use for cleavage.&lt;br /&gt;it's the perfect place to put your iPod Shuffle it took me over a year to discover this. i wanted to publish this before Popular Science got a hold of it.&lt;br /&gt;if you have any other cleavage information please post below before someone beats you to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115282706077634116?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115282706077634116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115282706077634116' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115282706077634116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115282706077634116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/cleavage-information.html' title='cleavage information'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115274032114733151</id><published>2006-07-12T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T16:38:41.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>okay, about the blow up doll</title><content type='html'>one day when i was walking to work, i turned the corner and there in a Triumph convertable, in the passenger's seat, was a blow up doll. cracked me up. i figured that someone (no doubt a good friend) had put it there to embarrass the hell out of the owner of the Triumph. i could just imagine the look on his (figured it had to be a guy) face. and how do you get rid of one? you can play norman bates and stab and stab at it. you can push the air out of it. but then what do you do with it? give the trash guys a chuckle?&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, that's where i got the idea of putting it on my list. gosh that was a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;and i bet you all were looking for a really good juicy explanation. sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115274032114733151?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115274032114733151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115274032114733151' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115274032114733151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115274032114733151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/okay-about-blow-up-doll.html' title='okay, about the blow up doll'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115254379821778595</id><published>2006-07-10T09:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T10:03:18.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>already this morning..</title><content type='html'>i've talked with the squid. had my blood drawn. and been to the grocers. now i'm in my a/c and have no further plans to go out. why, when they draw blood, do they use the tape from hell? ripping it off removes a layer of skin, and there's more blood than they just syphoned out. why don't they just put the tape on and then rip it off, then collect the blood in an emisis basin?and there's another thing. if you're going to throw up is the basin really going to be big enough? they're worthless. i have to admit that i puked into the kitchen sink last night. couldn't make it that extra few feet to the bathroom. i get coughing so hard when i don't take my meds that it upsets my stomach. so why is it that i don't take my meds? too lazy. or plum forgetting. getting sick reminds me. d'oh!&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, i have the squid and the barbarian. did i tell you that last week, the squid and i saw two wild turkeys?she has a big window in her office. there they were, just strolling along,&lt;br /&gt;yesterday i had only an ice cream cone. and it made me feel awful. like i was jumping out of my skin. &lt;br /&gt;invited h to the lake at the national park. don't know if he'll go for it. it's a pretty nice place. you can bbq, swim or fish. even though part of me feels guilty about fishing, i like it. i like feeling that first little nibble. and i like reeling them in. i feel guilty that they're fighting for their lives for my sport. i wouldn't save any of them. i'd just throw them back in. does that make it worse or better? i don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115254379821778595?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115254379821778595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115254379821778595' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115254379821778595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115254379821778595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/already-this-morning.html' title='already this morning..'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115248596188723946</id><published>2006-07-09T17:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T17:59:21.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tagged again</title><content type='html'>I've Been Tagged!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tagged by Lauren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things In My Closet&lt;br /&gt;a bookcase&lt;br /&gt;unpacked boxes&lt;br /&gt;uninstalled closet rods&lt;br /&gt;the cat&lt;br /&gt;that's it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things In My Fridge&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;half and half&lt;br /&gt;spaghetti sauce&lt;br /&gt;mustard&lt;br /&gt;mayo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things In My Car&lt;br /&gt;Emergency Kit&lt;br /&gt;CDs&lt;br /&gt;Jumper Cables&lt;br /&gt;a paper cutter&lt;br /&gt;a blow up doll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things In My Purse/Wallet&lt;br /&gt;a mini measuring tape&lt;br /&gt;harmonica&lt;br /&gt;a bunch of paper work (i don't even know what it is)&lt;br /&gt;hard candy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag:&lt;br /&gt;tiny&lt;br /&gt;sam&lt;br /&gt;apos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115248596188723946?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115248596188723946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115248596188723946' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115248596188723946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115248596188723946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/tagged-again.html' title='tagged again'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115221847473106141</id><published>2006-07-06T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T15:41:29.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>seaweed and other unpopular things</title><content type='html'>there is a beach in RI that we used to go to as teenagers that was just a big swamp (ocean really) filled with the damned seaweed that wrapped itself around your legs. it was disgusting. so we went there just to get sun and drink light beer.&lt;br /&gt;if you wanted to go to a good beach you had to drive to NH. no seaweed. took longer to get there, but was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;of course, if you went to the Maine coastline you had to deal with those big orange slugs. yeckkk. i couldn't stand those.&lt;br /&gt;it's been so long since i went to cape cod, i don't even remember what it's like. but that's not an unpopular thing. unpopular things....let's see, bugs. bugs are unpopular things. especially when they're crawling on you. creepy crawly bugs. can't you feel it on your arm?&lt;br /&gt;okay enough of  gross things.&lt;br /&gt;i was smart today when i left the house. i didn't fully close either door. i really have to get them fixed. i think h would be willing to do it.&lt;br /&gt;i have to go borrow a knife from my sister to cut the potatoes for the salad i'm bringing to the bbq tomorrow evening. and i have to excavate my big bowl. i don't know why i just don't tell talksalot that i'm not going to be there. i suppose that it won't kill me to go. but if it does, tell people what happened. people must know! it is my dying wish. it must be granted. people must know how very dangerous she is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115221847473106141?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115221847473106141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115221847473106141' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115221847473106141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115221847473106141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/seaweed-and-other-unpopular-things.html' title='seaweed and other unpopular things'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115212015330772145</id><published>2006-07-05T11:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T12:22:33.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>an adventure</title><content type='html'>i just got back into the house. i was locked out. there's something wrong with the front door knob. it wouldn't turn. the bulk head was locked. the window on the porch was locked. i pulled my car up to the next window and it was not locked.got the screen and the window open but standing on the car wasn't quite high enough. so i was out there pulling and pulling at the back screen door which has a hook and eye. it wasn't budging. so i decided to wait for Mr. Roo to stop home, which he usually does around lunch time. he pulled up just as i was coming back around front. i asked if i could go through his basement and ta da! i was back in my house. i was ever so grateful that he came home. i said thank you about ten times. i'm still saying thank you in my mind. he's a nice guy. now i feel like i don't dare go out. don't know what door to trust. i need someone to fix both of them for me. maybe i could ask h. i don't feel able to do it myself. and i also only own three screwdrivers and two hammers and a pair of pliers. i'm tool challenged. it's very sad. i need to get to Home Depot. sean was going to bring me. but we never got around to it.&lt;br /&gt;ahhh, the a/c feels good after sweating trying to get into the house. a quick dip in a pool wouldn't be bad either.i guess i'll settle for a shower. but not now, the a/c feels too good. &lt;br /&gt;i think i want some licorice. i'll get over it.&lt;br /&gt;my hair is shoulder length. time to put it up in hot weather which means....a scrunchie! Denise, you have one to spare?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115212015330772145?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115212015330772145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115212015330772145' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115212015330772145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115212015330772145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/adventure.html' title='an adventure'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115211438993180852</id><published>2006-07-05T06:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T10:46:30.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cheeseburgers,potato salad and beer, oh my</title><content type='html'>as expected, h was an hour late. but he helped make dinner. i never used to let him help when we together. it's not that he's a bad cook, i just figured that he'd worked all day, i could at least make dinner. but actually the few times that i did let him help, it was more fun. and it was nice to have him help last night. even though the only thing we were doing was making cheeseburgers. he sliced the cheese and the tomatoes. and after the burgers he got up to get us some potato salad.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't end up cleaning the house and he didn't faint. he actually said that it was impressive that i got the pile on the coffee table so high without it falling apart. i took that as a compliment. :)&lt;br /&gt;we both had a couple of beers. i think it relaxed him. and he was laughing which was good to hear. his ex said that he couldn't come around for two weeks. he still has things there. i don't know what the two weeks is all about. neither does he. he should be able to go get his things. he's gone from being crushed to being angry and crushed. i'm glad the anger is there.&lt;br /&gt;better than feeling destroyed. i've never had anyone dump me so i can listen but i can't truly understand. he gave me a long hug before he left. i think he really needed one. and it was good to see him.&lt;br /&gt;we didn't end up using the chocolate fountain. we were stuffed after dinner. and i think you have to have more than a couple of people to really make it worth it. it takes an awful lot of chocolate. i had purchased five big cadbury milk chocolate bars. i got strawberries and marshmallows. no, not sleep, real marshmallows.&lt;br /&gt;i think the clozaril is helping. i'm not thinking about suicide every day. i'm not cutting as much.the days are up and down. okay one day, terribly depressed the next. i know that i should get out more but i'm content here drinking diet cherry coke.&lt;br /&gt;h did help me take out my trash. he was glad to. he really has a good heart. he's just so angry. hopefully the therapist will help him with that. i'm just glad that i don't have to put up with the anger on a daily basis anymore. never knew what his mood was going to be. he'd go in the morning to take a shower and he'd come  out totally pissed off. the best thing was to avoid him. so i'd go into the bathroom once he was out and stay in there until he left. sad. i could tell from downstairs the way he walked down the hall what kind of mood he was in. so i knew when i should go up and  hide in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;i'm glad we're able to be friends. when we were together, every time he got ticked off i thought it was my fault. now i know that that wasn't the case. it's easier to be with him and when he gets angry, i know that it's not my fault. it's still difficult to be with him when he's angry, but again it's easier knowing that it's not my fault. even when it looks like his head is going to explode. which happens often.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't plan to write so much.&lt;br /&gt;if you're still here, thank you for "listening."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115211438993180852?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115211438993180852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115211438993180852' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115211438993180852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115211438993180852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/cheeseburgerspotato-salad-and-beer-oh.html' title='cheeseburgers,potato salad and beer, oh my'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115205072800671949</id><published>2006-07-04T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T17:05:28.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i found it!</title><content type='html'>i finally found some diet cherry coke. i expected it to taste more cherry than it does. of course i'm drinking a warm one. the rest is in the fridge. i just couldn't wait. okay, now it's tasting like cherry.do you know that you grow new taste buds, i think it's every thirty days.&lt;br /&gt;something odd is happening. first it was dropping things. now i'm finding it impossible to focus. i keep typing the wrong words. it's taken me an hour to try to write this post. i keep typing words that make no sense.then trying to figure out what i mean.  vbb (that was ella.)  if i get a horrible headache, i'm going to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;yep, this diet cherry coke is very good. another addiction, thanks babs.&lt;br /&gt;?"::::: (ella again) i think her spelling is improving . :)&lt;br /&gt;h is supposed to come over soon. he said five but knowing him, it'll be more like six. but he'll be forgiven, he's bringing the beer. and a sharp knife. i still don't know where my knives are.and i have to find my big bowl for potato salad for talksalot's cook out. why did i volunteer for that again? i wasn't even going to go. again, i had a moment of true insanity.&lt;br /&gt;what did i tell? h just called and he hasn't left his dad's yet. it's almost an hour away.&lt;br /&gt; but again, the beer so he is forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;the weather really sucks for anyone doing anything outdoors. it rained here for a while. &lt;br /&gt;i'm so glad that i got to talk to sean yesterday. i just want to see her. maybe she could come to coffee here sometime.&lt;br /&gt;hopefully, h will be willing to help me take out the trash. it's taking over the kitchen. i'm sure he will if i explain.&lt;br /&gt;it's so comfortable in here. hurray for air conditioning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115205072800671949?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115205072800671949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115205072800671949' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115205072800671949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115205072800671949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-found-it.html' title='i found it!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115196615092060460</id><published>2006-07-03T15:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T17:35:51.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happiness</title><content type='html'>i just talked to sean on the phone. i called her cell phone. it was so nice to talk to her. she said her new position was all right, not great. she said it was okay to call her. so long as i didn't tell anyone. so here i am blabbing to the entire web. and i left another message for the squid. i've come to love sean these past couple years. it was so nice to talk to her. i only had the nerve to call her because i'm half drunk. but i'm so glad i called her. i told her i was worried about her. she said she worried about me too. and not to be worried about her, she was fine. she also said that all will be revealed soon. i assume she meant that whatever made her have to change positions would be out in the open. i know that she would never treat her clients with anything but respect. i still assume that one of her clients accused her of something inappropriate. which is ridiculous. gosh, i love my a/c.i keep thinking that there won't be nurse tomorrow because it's a holiday but there will be one. it's not a major holiday, like christmas or new years..&lt;br /&gt;i'm so glad that i got to talk with sean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115196615092060460?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115196615092060460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115196615092060460' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115196615092060460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115196615092060460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/happiness.html' title='happiness'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115195418564543032</id><published>2006-07-03T14:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T14:16:25.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>impetus</title><content type='html'>i now have to clean the house. h is coming over tomorrow. not that i feel the need to impress him, i just don't want him coming in and fainting. the nurses are used to it. he isn't.&lt;br /&gt;ella came down for dinner. same time every day. her stomach must have an alarm. blinggggggg!&lt;br /&gt;i'm waiting to hear from my sister about whether or not we'll be playing with chocolate and strawberries this evening.&lt;br /&gt;no chocolate fountain today. my sister has to work later than she thought and there was another reason i couldn't understand, but didn't have her repeat. it's okay. h and i will try it out tomorrow. if he doesn't cancel. he might be really hope i don't go out and get a mess of food and have him cancel.&lt;br /&gt;i can't believe how much larger my living room is without that a/c on the floor. it's not overly hot today. the eighties but i have the air on anyway. cause i can, dagnabbit.&lt;br /&gt;when i got my blood drawn this morning, i asked the woman to fax the paper work straight to the pharmacy. i asked her that last week. she said it didn't work last week, that maybe they changed the fax number. now wouldn't you call the pharmacy to ask for their fax number?  every week i have to prove that i got my blood drawn before they will issue the clozaril. something to do with my white blood count.&lt;br /&gt;well, i was planning to spend the rest of the day at home but i'm almost out of asthma meds so i have to go into town to pick them up. the last time i was out, they actually called the nurses to see if it was all right to give it to me. and they were like, it's asthma meds for crying out loud. of course you can give it to her. what did they think i was going to with it? it's a fucking asthma inhaler .fembots.&lt;br /&gt;it seems much later in the day than it is. no nap. that must be it.&lt;br /&gt;i saw the squid today because of the holiday tomorrow. she still hadn't heard back from sean. she offered to call a couple more times. i didn't really answer her. i just called and left her a message that yes, i'd like her to try again.i don't know why she hasn't called the squid. so of course, i feel that it was something i've done. i don't know what to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115195418564543032?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115195418564543032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115195418564543032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115195418564543032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115195418564543032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/impetus.html' title='impetus'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115189598015480724</id><published>2006-07-02T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T22:06:20.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>active dream life</title><content type='html'>i was so confused. i woke up at eight thirt and thought it was eight thirty at night. turns out  it was eight-thirty in the morning. i had slept through the night. i don't remember the last time that happened. iit was sure as hell a surprise to me.&lt;br /&gt;i keep waking up doing something with my hands. like drinking coffee or making a cheeseburger, it's quite strange. never had  that happen before. then didn't totally wake up, just for a few seconds. that was a babble, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to go meet marsha to get some meds that the morning nurse won't have in the morning. yep, regular nurse will be back from bermuda. she was bitching before she left that marsha was going to go to europe, that she is able to go to europe she only been on two cruises and has two more coming up. poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;did you know that your ears and nose never stop growing? and how about Andy Rooney's eyebrows? someone has to take a weedwhacker to those things. he's starting to look like a sheep dog.&lt;br /&gt;you can tell when i'm depressed. i eat meat. i'm going to get a whopper on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;thank you for for the a/c it much more comfotable in here than out there. i hate it all night and i slept nice on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;i have another air contioner but it's in the in the cellar and i don't want to ask anyone to bring it along two floors. the couch is comfortable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115189598015480724?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115189598015480724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115189598015480724' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115189598015480724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115189598015480724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/active-dream-life.html' title='active dream life'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115178403637803505</id><published>2006-07-01T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T15:00:36.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hit by a truck</title><content type='html'>that's how i feel today. i can't seem to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;i went to my appt. with mr. fakesideburns. fortunately it's always a short meeting. i can't take him for too long. i din't even look to see if he had drawn on his sideburns today. i try to make as little eye contact as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got my check. and the barbarian was right. the first thing i bought was cigarettes. and mac and cheese mix.&lt;br /&gt;the next thing to do is to get in touch with the phone company and get my phone turned back on. although it's been kind of peaceful without it. not that it rings a helluva lot, but still. oh crap, their site is down, i'm going to have to talk to a real person. i hate that. can't do it that way even. they direct you to a number to make from a landline phone or to the web page. hopefully that will be up again soon. hrmphh. oh joy the site is back up. paymemt made. phone already working.they're fast.&lt;br /&gt; at least i assume it's working. i made a call out. which i couldn't do before. we'll see if it rings. i called my sister but didn't leave a message so she might call back.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian just insn't sean. sean would help with phone calls, the barbarian just tells me what to do. she doesn' t know how hard it is for me.&lt;br /&gt;(yesterday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(today) &lt;br /&gt;making some mac and cheese for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;i think i mentioned that i keep getting twitches in my hands that make me drop things. i called the med clinic this noon and couldn't understand why they were telling me to call me to call back during business hours. it took me a while to realise that it's satuday. this has to be a side effect from something .&lt;br /&gt;it's 90 and they're mowing the lawn. glad it's them and not me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115178403637803505?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115178403637803505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115178403637803505' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115178403637803505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115178403637803505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/07/hit-by-truck.html' title='hit by a truck'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115167561753458731</id><published>2006-06-29T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T08:53:38.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy happy, joy, joy!</title><content type='html'>the a/c is in the window and running.the barbarian and i put it in without dropping it into the driveway. the room looks so much bigger without the a/c on the floor. yipee! after we put the air conditioner in, we went over my finances. that was depressing. then we went to coffee, armed with my food stamp application. the cogentin isn't working yet, i kept drooling in the coffee shop. embarassing. and she had to fill my coffee cup for me. i was shaking too much. sometimes it's so frustrating. i hate asking people to do things like that.&lt;br /&gt;oh, there's a nice breeze coming in. it's supposed to be in the ninties but not humid. all i had o do was getting my a/c in the window and humidity stops. such power i have. hmm..to use for good  or for evil. i can't seem to wake up this morning. i keep typing things that don't make sense. good thing i read it over.&lt;br /&gt;i have an appt. with mr. fake sideburns this burns. if i could call him, i'd reschedule. i really feel out of it. or maybe that's the way to go see him. he won't be so annoying if i'm in a fog. i've got to leave in twenty minutes. fuckdamn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115167561753458731?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115167561753458731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115167561753458731' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115167561753458731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115167561753458731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-happy-joy-joy.html' title='happy happy, joy, joy!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115153439560828416</id><published>2006-06-28T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T19:34:55.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>arghhh!!!</title><content type='html'>talksalot was just here. now she's next door. the woman literally gives me chest pains. i was trying very hard to pay attention to what she was saying, but the only information that i came away with was that the stray cat isn't. he has a home. and i'm glad i didn't let him in because i saw him spray the bushes outside. they've taken to calling him Boo. i don't know if that's his real name of if one of the condo owners thought of it.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian came today. we went for nachos at one of the few restaurants in town. i was wondering why she hadn't phoned to confirm the time. she said she tried to call. apparently they shut my phone off. cranky cingular people. there's a message saying something like, this phone is not currently accepting calls. so grace oh, that's the squid, how could i have slipped? the squid won't be able to get through tomorrow or friday. hopefully i can pay what i owe on saturday morning and they'll be able to get it right back working.&lt;br /&gt;the barbarian said that she was going to be my worker for a while. she didn't say how long. and i didn't ask who would be after her. we're going to meet twice a week. wed and friday.except for this week. she's coming tomorrow morning and we're going to put the a/c in the window. then we'll probably go to coffee.&lt;br /&gt;h and i met for coffee this afternoon. he was late and he tried to call four times and got that cranky message. i didn't have my watch on so i didn't know how late he was. i figured i'd drink my iced coffee and if he didn't arrive by the time i was done, i'd head home. but he showed up eventually. he even asked about my sister. didn't ask about me. i tried to talk to him about sean on the phone one night and he clearly wasn't interested in any of it. still it was good to see him and give him a big hug.&lt;br /&gt;he tried to get my hood open but i think he broke it more. but i was grateful for the trying. i'm going to have to take it to the garage. fuckdamn. &lt;br /&gt;duckman is finally moving his soggy cord of firewood out of his driveway. man, everything that man does is in slow motion. &lt;br /&gt;and duck lady is taking a waddle with the dog. i have to stop looking out the windows so much. i drive myself nuts watching these people. why do i do it?&lt;br /&gt;cripes, i just got an email from talksalot. it's the phone number list of all the owners. she made a word document instead of just putting alll five of them in an email. she's a nut. plain and simple. i'm telling you, chest pains.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115153439560828416?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115153439560828416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115153439560828416' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115153439560828416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115153439560828416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/arghhh.html' title='arghhh!!!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115146514020230807</id><published>2006-06-27T20:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T22:25:40.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>condo meeting over</title><content type='html'>it wasn't so bad. but i did commit myself to going to the bbq. i said i'd bring potato salad. it was a moment of weakness.&lt;br /&gt;met the new owner. young woman, very nice. and i even remember her name, which is a big deal with me. i usually remember someone's name for about ten seconds.&lt;br /&gt;the meeting was pretty short. would have been shorter if talksalot hadn't kept repeating herself. she's so damned important, you know.&lt;br /&gt;i don't believe that i commited myself to that damned cook out. maybe if i get a badminton set..... yeah, and keep hitting talksalot over the head repeatedly until the strings break. i'm a lousy neighbor. i just want to mind my own business and have no one bother me.&lt;br /&gt;talked to h. we're meeting for coffee tomorrow after i see marsha.&lt;br /&gt;my oil light in the car keeps flashing but the latch on the inside of the car isn't working. maybe he can get the hood open so i can at least put some oil in there.otherwise i'll have to go to a garage. and i don't need another bill, thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115146514020230807?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115146514020230807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115146514020230807' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115146514020230807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115146514020230807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/condo-meeting-over.html' title='condo meeting over'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115144927741964650</id><published>2006-06-27T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T18:01:17.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>last chance</title><content type='html'>i agreed to let the squid try to call sean tomorrow. it's the squid's day off. so she'll be easier to reach. there's this little speck of hope that i can't seem to get rid of. i'm just torturing myself.&lt;br /&gt;got that damned condo meeting tonight. hope i don't lose it and start screaming obscenities. or throwing fruit. i can picture a watermelon bouncing off of talksalot's head. and the Roos pelted with cherries until they learn how to close a door without slamming it. aw, they're damned lucky i don't have any fruit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115144927741964650?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115144927741964650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115144927741964650' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115144927741964650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115144927741964650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/last-chance.html' title='last chance'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115136709343288590</id><published>2006-06-26T19:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T19:11:33.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>finally accepting</title><content type='html'>after a number of weeks, i think i've finally decided to accept that sean isn't going to call. that i'm never going to see her again. it hurts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115136709343288590?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115136709343288590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115136709343288590' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115136709343288590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115136709343288590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/finally-accepting.html' title='finally accepting'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115134359413904415</id><published>2006-06-26T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T12:39:54.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the living dead</title><content type='html'>that's what i feel like. the squid just called to check on me. she said my voice was so much better, she could actually hear me.&lt;br /&gt;i had rosemary for a nurse this morning. she's very nice. she's one of those people who can call you "hon' and it doesn't bother you. she's a grammar school nurse. i was asleep when she came and i didn't know what day it was. she was reminding me to get my bloodwork done and i said, that's monday. she informed me that it was monday.  i was all confused.&lt;br /&gt;i think i slept through the night. that never happens. and i didn't wet the bed, yay!&lt;br /&gt;the coughing helps clear my lungs but sometimes i get so that i can't stop and that's when i wet myself. besides just peeing in my sleep. i'm sure the doctor would give me something but i don't want to go there. who does? my doctor is very nice, but still i don't want to go. i always feel stupid at the doctor's. like i'm not sick enough to be there. i used to have a doctor who would prescribe over the phone. but i don't think they do that anymore. they want the money for the office visit.&lt;br /&gt;i broke down and wrote a bad check at the grocery store. i just couldn't face a week of pasta and rice. i got some tortillas,salsa, cheese, creamer, fudgesicles, coffee. i got all the things to make mac and cheese except the boxes of mac and cheese. i got solid white tuna for a dollar. some mayo to mix with it. i'll get a service charge from the store and from the bank. but there's nothing i can do about that. i can't believe that i forgot the mac and cheese mix. duh. i knew i should have made a list. i probably would have forgotten it anyway. &lt;br /&gt;i feel kind of weird today.can't quite pin down what it is.like i'm waiting for something to happen, but i don't know what. i don't have anywhere else i have to go. i feel like i'm forgetting something. i'm nervous and anxious. oh, prns! prns swallowed. they should help within half an hour. maybe i should start chewing them so they'll work faster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115134359413904415?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115134359413904415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115134359413904415' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115134359413904415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115134359413904415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/living-dead.html' title='the living dead'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115127945653247935</id><published>2006-06-25T16:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T18:50:56.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sunday report</title><content type='html'>went to lunch with my sister. had a much too large cheeseburger. couldn't finish it. she seems good. kind of like they're pretending that nothing happened. i don't think i'd be able to do that. but they've been together for something like 17 years and i guess if that's the way they deal with things....&lt;br /&gt;the cross breeze is bringing litter box fumes. must scoop. there was hardly anything in there. i got two scoops. but the urine/ammonia smell just comes out in this weather, which by the way, is rainy and humid.&lt;br /&gt;i keep hearing planes from the AFB and thinking it's thunder. i just figured it out. they must all be leaving after the air show.&lt;br /&gt;i've never been in an airplane. i'd like to. there's a little airport in town (when i say 'in town", i mean the next town over. this town is more like an alcove) where you can get rides. i'd like to do that one day. the house wasn't too far from the airport and you could watch the parachuters. gosh, i miss the old neighborhood. that reminds me of some weird dreams i had last night. one was that h and i were going to meet to go for a walk in a cemetery. coffee/cemetery. close. and some other weird shit that i can only remember pieces of.&lt;br /&gt;i'm wondering who i'm going to end up with as a nurse this week while regular nurse is on her cruise. marsha said that, whoever it is, not to expect them as early. i hate waiting around for the nurse, not knowing when she's coming even if i have nothing else to do. i like to know when they're going to come. i get nervous waiting. i always think that if i go in to pee, that'll be the exact moment they'll come.&lt;br /&gt;my mind is all over the place. and i'm having an anxiety attack. just took a couple of seroquel. i sit here miserable and forget that the meds are there.doh!&lt;br /&gt;okay, starting to calm down. nice pills. it's been half an hour. and there's just a little pinch in my chest. almost gone.&lt;br /&gt;cripes, sometimes it sounds like the roos are bodychecking each other over there. we've got a blasted condo meeting on tuesday evening. supposed to be short. just about what property insurance company we're going to use. i don't know anything about that stuff. when i took over the house, i just went with the same one my mother used. never even read the policy. smart, huh? i'm sure it was underinsured. the value of the property went way up several years ago and i don't know if the insurance compensated for that. but, lucky me, now i just have to vote, i don't have to take care of it myself. talksalot, cripes, talksalot will deal with it. the control freak that she is.&lt;br /&gt;okay, i've literally babbled for long enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115127945653247935?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115127945653247935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115127945653247935' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115127945653247935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115127945653247935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/sunday-report.html' title='sunday report'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115119065808302766</id><published>2006-06-24T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T18:10:58.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yet another day</title><content type='html'>slept most of the day. my sister called and asked if we could do lunch tomorrow instead of today. fine with me. don't feel like going out.&lt;br /&gt;i was trying to give my weather pixie the benefit of the doubt, but like Babs', it lies. there is no way that it's only 76 here.&lt;br /&gt;they had an air show at the AFB. every time a plane goes over, one of my sister's dogs goes flying outside and barks his head off. he must have been fun today. running out there every five minutes. i doubt that she got much rest. i heard a lot of planes yesterday. they must have been coming in for the air show. slept through it all today. i hate hearing military planes going over. makes me nervous.&lt;br /&gt;we're supposed to get some heavy rain. there's a flood watch in effect. wish i could send some of it down to you, babs and jackiesue. maybe if i blow real hard. although i'd hate to take away js's fun in doing her naked rain dance. and i'm sure her neighbors would be disappointed as well.&lt;br /&gt;okay, guess what i got? no. nope. no, guess again. still no. okay, i'll tell you. it's a chocolate fondue thingie that works like a fountain. a very good friend sent it to me. i can't wait to try it out. i think i'll try covering strawberries first. in about a week, i'll let you know how it went.&lt;br /&gt;i'm sleepy but everytime i lie down, i get restless. don't quite know what to do with myself. could clean the house. hahahahahahaha  i crack myself up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115119065808302766?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115119065808302766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115119065808302766' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115119065808302766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115119065808302766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/yet-another-day.html' title='yet another day'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115101413518172202</id><published>2006-06-22T15:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T17:08:55.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not finished...</title><content type='html'>ranting about the asshole. how can he be so mean. why doesn't he act his age?  he's 50 for crissake. he's never going to grow up. i just want five minutes with a baseball bat. i'll start at his knees and work my way up.&lt;br /&gt;i was telling h last night that i was afraid they'd get to the ceremony and the dumbass wouldn't say "i do," i guess that's the way that it could be worse. man, i don't know how much she's going to take before she finally gives up on him. i don't think  she's even sure.&lt;br /&gt;just got a call form Pam (barbarian's replacement this week) we're going to meet for coffee after my appt. with the pdoc tomorrow. this will my first appt with the pdoc that sean hasn't accompanied me in about a year. i'm afraid i'm going to forget things and get things muddled up. i know that i can write things down. i think i will or i'm sure to forget things. it's like i check my brain at the door when i walk into her office. that's where sean is helpful. she brings her brain into the office.&lt;br /&gt;marsha thinks that once some time has passed, i'll find out what happened to sean. i'm not as optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;the whole situation sucks.&lt;br /&gt;back to the fucktard. i just don't understand how someone can act that way. i'll never understand. guess i might as well give up trying. i hope he does get his someday. and i hope he gets it good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115101413518172202?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115101413518172202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115101413518172202' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115101413518172202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115101413518172202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/not-finished.html' title='not finished...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115099277173326598</id><published>2006-06-22T10:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:12:52.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>guess what?</title><content type='html'>it looks like there's going to be no wedding this evening. big surprise, huh? the fucktard left a few nasty messages on my sister's cell phone. i really don't believe what a son-of-a-bitch he is. i told her that he was never going to change and she agreed with me.  she sounded good for the morning she's had. she's working and apparently he's sitting at home not answering his cell or the house phone. she left him a message about not having the balls to say that he didn't want to get married. i really hoped that he could go through with this instead of hurting her again. i'm so pissed off i want to rip his head off. actually i want a BBgun and a clear shot of his testicles. he's such an asshat. i don't know why she stays with him. he's always been emotionally abusive. but, unfortunately, she loves him. what a fucking asshole.WHAT A FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, Irish temper showing.&lt;br /&gt;anyway.....that's the update from here.&lt;br /&gt;hope y'all are having better days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115099277173326598?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115099277173326598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115099277173326598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115099277173326598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115099277173326598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/guess-what.html' title='guess what?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115094161157965209</id><published>2006-06-21T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T21:00:11.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tomorrow, ughh</title><content type='html'>i want to go to this wedding about as much as ..as much as....well, something yucky.&lt;br /&gt;i've got to remember to charge the battery and empty the card in my camera. i'll have to dig out the tripod so that i don't ruin all the photos by shaking.&lt;br /&gt;i'd like a lime popsicle. or a fudgesicle. haven't had one of those in forever. come the first of the month, i'll get one or the other or maybe both. the juice pops are the best.&lt;br /&gt;is today the first day of summer? or was that yesterday? if i had my damned calendar up, i'd know. doh!&lt;br /&gt;marsha and i talked a little bit about sean this afternoon. she suggested writing her a letter. she's seeing mr. drawonsideburns tomorrow and is going to ask him if i sent a letter to DMH if it would get to her. i don't know what i'd say that wouldn't make her feel guilty. i don't know what to do. maybe i should just leave things alone. sorry for going into this again. someone said to forget about her calling. that she'd just been doing her job and now she's moved on. maybe that's the case regardless of what she said.&lt;br /&gt;back to thinking about tomorrow. i really dread going to this wedding. i know that's horrible but i can't help it. he's not going to be any kinder to her because there's a ring on her finger.&lt;br /&gt;i'm all over the place tonight. i'm just going to post this before i keep rambling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115094161157965209?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115094161157965209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115094161157965209' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115094161157965209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115094161157965209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/tomorrow-ughh.html' title='tomorrow, ughh'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115083049804570951</id><published>2006-06-20T09:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T14:08:18.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>S.O.S.</title><content type='html'>help! i can't stop playing with the nose hair plucker that tiny sent around. it's addictive. i think i'm going to have to go into detox. i've heard of addicted to porn, but addicted to plucking? this is bad. so sad.&lt;br /&gt;off to the regular doctor today. blech. it's too fucking hot. i'll get all washed up and then by the time i get there, i'll be a sweating mess again. i should have gotten the a/c in the car fixed last year when i had the money but i kept procrastinating. and pretty soon it was fall and i didn't need it anymore. now, i need it.&lt;br /&gt;got something from the pdoc to control my drooling. hasn't kicked in yet. supposed to take a couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;i just cancelled my drs. appt. just don't feel up to it and my voice is basically back to normal anyway. the other things, well i guess i'll just live with them and hope that they go away. i'm just not up to going back out today. especially when it's so sticky out. like some huge monster with a giant tongue is waiting on the other side of the door and if you go out there you'll stick to his tongue like flies to fly paper. well, that's a wonderful image. sorry.&lt;br /&gt;i hope it's not this sticky on thursday. the temp is supposed to go down. around 85. a breeze would be nice. just a cool little breeze. nothing to blow over the cows. yes, my sister lives next to a farm. farmer bob. may the breeze not be from the direction of the cows.&lt;br /&gt;fucktard better say, i do. i have this horrible thought of him backing out. i'd have to kill him. i'm trying not to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;got a great word from tiny. "asshat." that's someone with their head up their ass. you probably figured that out. i had to ask.&lt;br /&gt;i'm off to pluck some nosehairs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115083049804570951?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115083049804570951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115083049804570951' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115083049804570951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115083049804570951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/sos.html' title='S.O.S.'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115077609494786693</id><published>2006-06-19T19:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T23:01:35.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>quiz</title><content type='html'>it's all right. it's only one question. does anyone else out there get chills when it's really hot?&lt;br /&gt;we just had a little bit of a thunderstorm but it didn't really cool it off. strange about thunderstorms. when i was renting, i loved thunderstorms, but the minute i was a homeowner, now condo owner, i don't enjoy them. i spend the whole time saying, please don't hit the house. lightning, please don't hit the house. even though it was a short storm, Boo was scared. she was right up against my leg, then decided to run upstairs and go under the bed. i wonder if i would fit under there, just for future reference. i prolly could with the bricks under it.&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to the doctor tomorrow about my voice and i'm going to tell him AGAIN about coughing and peeing and coughing til i vomit. and he's going to give me some good cough syrup, dammit. i've tried over the counter ones and they just don't last long enough and i got the "'long acting" kind.&lt;br /&gt;now that i have both doors open, there's a nice breeze. i'm still glowing (sweating) though.&lt;br /&gt;talksalot has scheduled a meeting for thursday and awwww i can't make it. wedding and all. it's going to be a joy to call her and tell her i can't make it.hahahahahahahahaaaaa and she's planning a cook out which i will decline the invitation to. had i known that buying a condo would be like this. i might have looked at a smaller house instead. then i wouldn't be forced to socialize with my neighbors. i want to socialize with neighbors because i like them not just because they're neighbors. i miss my old neighbor, Liz. she was a great neighbor.the kind of neighbor you could just suddenly go get ice cream with. she was the kind of neighbor who'd bring you cookies at christmas time. and we met the old fashioned way. a spring storm took down part of the huge tree in her side yard, we happened to have a dumpster so i went over and asked if she wanted to put her branches in the dumpster. she was so grateful. then we started greeting each other and talking when we were both outside. ta-da! good neighbor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115077609494786693?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115077609494786693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115077609494786693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115077609494786693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115077609494786693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/quiz.html' title='quiz'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115066517498910312</id><published>2006-06-18T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T16:12:55.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the wedding plans</title><content type='html'>just got back from my sister's and ate my half of the cantaloupe. wasn't very tasty. i was disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;only one of my nephews will be able to make it to the wedding, the other has to work overtime. i can't even afford to get them a gift. i'll be scrounging to buy them a card.&lt;br /&gt;oh, people just drove up and are getting into the duck's pool. it's feckin' hot out there. in the nineties. my sister said it's 95. it's not bad in here. i left the door to the backporch open when i left the house because chuckie was out there. but the sun started to creep around and she came in and threw herself on the floor so i closed the door. it was letting in some hot air.&lt;br /&gt;so i saw my nephew at my sister's and do you think i remembered to ask him about putting the a/c in the window? of course not. now he's at a friends house and i don't want to bother him. his birthday is tuesday, turning 30! yep, i feel old. anyway, maybe i'll be able to see him then. though i think he has to work overtime all week. someone is on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;the swimmers just left wrapped in their towels. damn them. &lt;br /&gt;i do wish i had my a/c in.  if not for me, then for the cats. ella just went out, though i wasn't sure she should in this heat. i'll check for her soon.&lt;br /&gt;yes, i'm just rambing on. guess that means it's time to wrap it up. hope everyone found some joy in the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115066517498910312?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115066517498910312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115066517498910312' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115066517498910312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115066517498910312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/wedding-plans.html' title='the wedding plans'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115065087331170451</id><published>2006-06-17T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T12:14:33.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrgggghhh!</title><content type='html'>i can't get my email. something screwy at the server end. i hate that. always feel like i'm missing something.&lt;br /&gt;it's mac and cheese for dinner tonight. whoopie! better than nothing. i'm actually looking forward to it. thinking of taking a nap before then.&lt;br /&gt;took a nap. wet the couch. it's the fucking clozaril. never had any problem like this before. h called. he's having a really hard time. thought it was pretty funny that my couch is all wet. former lovers are pretty supportive about those kind of things. at least he didn't offer to bring me some Depends.&lt;br /&gt;(saturday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(now sunday morning)&lt;br /&gt;slept in, then went back to bed for a nap.&lt;br /&gt;i can get my email today. yay! i hate not being able to. always feel like i'm missing something.&lt;br /&gt;just called my sister and got the fucktard. she's out grocery shopping. i never did go over to cut the cantaloupe yesterday. hoping to do it today. it's pretty damned ripe.&lt;br /&gt;obviously, i don't have much to say. i think i'll lie down until my sister calls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115065087331170451?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115065087331170451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115065087331170451' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115065087331170451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115065087331170451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/arrgggghhh.html' title='Arrgggghhh!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115056056586913661</id><published>2006-06-17T08:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T11:09:26.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the wedding</title><content type='html'>my sister is getting married thursday evening. i have nothing to wear, of course. the ceremony is in their backyard. i wish they had a pool instead of a hot tub. it's supposed to be freakin' hot this week.&lt;br /&gt;the sale on one of the condos just went through earlier in the week and the people are already moving in. it always cracks me up when people choose to use their cars rather than rent a truck. a hundred little trips instead of one or two. big things tied to the roof. back seats full, trunk wide open. maybe they can't afford a truck but you'd think if they just bought a condo, they'd have fifty bucks to rent a truck. ah well... another thing that is none of my business. there's just so little entertainment around here.&lt;br /&gt;omg, chuckie just used the litterbox. be right back.   managed to scoop it out without passing out. my feat for the day. chuckie is the only smelly one. don't know why. she eats mostly dry food. occasionally she'll have some canned but not often at all. "smelly cat, smelly cat." (i forget the rest of the words.)&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to my sister's to cut my cantaloupe. all my big knives are still packed away. and tiny didn't think my swiss army knife would do a very good job. i tend to agree with her. the cantaloupe is almost the size of a bowling ball. ten pin. i confess, i have bowling trophies from when i was a kid. softball trophies too. i love softball. and a dictionary for winning a spelling bee. why do they give a dictionary to the winner? shouldn't they be passing them out to the losers? just one more thing that i don't understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115056056586913661?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115056056586913661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115056056586913661' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115056056586913661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115056056586913661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/wedding.html' title='the wedding'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115033712345287641</id><published>2006-06-14T20:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T21:05:24.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i can do it</title><content type='html'>just had the last cigarette that finances will allow. i can quit. not that i particularly want to but being broke is the perfect opportunity. boy am i going to be a bitch. so if i rant every single day, that's the reason.&lt;br /&gt;just came from seeing marsha. who insists that i go back to the "you have laryngitis" doctor. because it's lasting so long. i told her that i was spitting on convenience clerks. she's going to call the med clinic and try to get me some cogentin. that's supposed to work on the side effects of the clozaril. the drooling, the stiff joints. oh, another med, just what i need. but i prefer swallowing another pill to spitting at people. though the spitting can be fun at times.&lt;br /&gt;it's humid here, yuck! it feels more like July. it's supposed to be in the 90s on monday. this is not normal for june. i don't want it. especially since my a/c is still on the floor of the living room. maybe i can get some help putting it in this weekend. my nephew seems always busy when i invite him over. but he is a helpful little guy if i can wrangle him.&lt;br /&gt;goody. it's raining. that's breaking up some of the choking humidity. there's even a little breeze.&lt;br /&gt;oh how nice, a breeze. just enough to tell me that it's time to change the litter box. not a poopy smell, just a stale smell. i tried the walmart brand of cat litter and i'm not impressed. it doesn't clump all that well. and it doesn't absorb odors at all. thus the stale smell, when i just scooped it out this morning.&lt;br /&gt;okay, scooped it out again. now the breeze is a bit fresher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115033712345287641?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115033712345287641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115033712345287641' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115033712345287641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115033712345287641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-can-do-it.html' title='i can do it'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115031195534345303</id><published>2006-06-14T13:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T14:06:06.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>made it</title><content type='html'>went to the food pantry with the barbarian. it wasn't crowded at all. it was all right. didn't feel like bolting. even got a cantaloupe there. i have no idea where my large knives are. i don't know if my swiss army knife is going to do the job. i might have to go on an expediton to find the knives. an expedition, oh boy! wow! how exciting! wonder if i'll find dinosaur bones...&lt;br /&gt;i see marsha this afternoon. i was supposed to see her yesterday but the meds didn't come in in time.&lt;br /&gt;anyway, now i have food in the house. corn flakes, tuna, cheese, cottage cheese ( i wonder how it came to be called that.)&lt;br /&gt;i keep thinking of h and how hurt he must feel. i zipped off an email to him this morning. just letting him know that i'm here if he wants to talk. i guess that's the only thing that i can do. i keep picturing him in the cramped little guest room at his dad's. at least he has wireless up there. so he can prop himself up in bed and get on line. and his cell phone works up there. it didn't at his ex-fiancee's. he must feel like shit. strange, i lose sean and he loses cindy. granted,him losing cindy is a bigger deal. he had a life planned with her. they were putting together on of those houses that come in two pieces. he sent me some pics. it looked nice. i've always wondered how you put those together.&lt;br /&gt;okay, i guess i have to go meet marsha...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115031195534345303?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115031195534345303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115031195534345303' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115031195534345303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115031195534345303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/made-it.html' title='made it'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15801749.post-115025003770685722</id><published>2006-06-13T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T20:53:58.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the ducks</title><content type='html'>this evening, not only am i treated to the scene of ducklady waddling along with her dog, but duckman is out roaming around. he does everything in slow motion. it's painful to watch. so why do i watch. obviously i have no life. i think the dog is the only normal one of the ducks. now here's ducklady's mother. spry old thing. she must be in her seventies. mows her own lawn, does her own shoveling. always out walking her little dog.&lt;br /&gt;i've come to the conclusion that i'm not going to hear from sean. it's been a couple of weeks since she said she wouldn't bail on me, but she has. somehow i have to accept that. two years, then, nothing. that's just wrong. it's mean.&lt;br /&gt;there's a chance that i'm going to have icky, stern nurse in the morning. regular nurse doesn't feel well. i swear if she mentions anything about housekeeping, i'm going to bitch slap her. i don't even know what that means exactly. but i like the way it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;i think i'd be crawling into bed if oliver and ella weren't outside. i don't want to leave them out all night. oh, they both just came in. magic!&lt;br /&gt;now i don't want to go to bed. i want to talk to someone. but i don't know who.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15801749-115025003770685722?l=duchatnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/115025003770685722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15801749&amp;postID=115025003770685722' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115025003770685722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15801749/posts/default/115025003770685722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duchatnoir.blogspot.com/2006/06/ducks.html' title='the ducks'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16316272228605384539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
