Awhile Means 2-1/2 Days

The power company's "awhile" was 2-1/2 days. Much like the AMP said, "Camping is only fun when you choose to inconvenience yourself." It most certainly was not fun to be camping in freezing temperatures in our own house. The GA also freaked out and went feral on us for 24 hours. In retaliation for being kept in ice-cold temperatures, he declared all out warfare on the giants with all the weapons in his arsenal. Soon after the power kicked back on and we were basking in the glory of hot water and the pellet stove, we got 2.5 feet of snow. Futilely we shoveled the driveway and road only to have it fill back up again within an hour or so.

A new snowblower and generator are on their way.

The Morrowind Dilemma

My problem with playing Morrowind is that I never get fully invested into a character before my imagination independently decides to ingest some crack and I end up in the Construction Set and PhotoShop reskinning and modding away for unaccountable hours making the game better, whilst never actually going back to play the game. . . sigh! This is entirely the reason I have played Morrowind for seven years without ever once completing the main quest. Nerevarine, shmerevarine, who wants to be the savior anyway?

The Cold Kitty

It took precisely 5.2 minutes for the guy who opened the door to realize he didn't shut it and get up from where he was sitting, right next to the door, to get up and close it, which he confusedly meddled with for an additional 30 seconds. It's a door, it has a handle and swings on hinges. . . this should not be a difficult task. I am sitting in a coffee shop in Moscow since the power went out at 1:00 a.m. this morning is still not back on 12 hours later at The Rubber Room (aka, our house). I received my first clue as I was sitting at my desk around 12:30 a.m. and The Absentminded Professor (aka, my husband) comes bolting into my office, naked as a jaybird, yelling, "What was that, what was that? Someone's moaning outside the window," while he proceeds to mimic said moaning as though I had no clue what moaning sounds like. My response, "Uh, yeah, it's the wind. Go back to bed," which he did without further argument or naked bolting incidents. Thirty minutes later, swoosh, all power goes out. I finally get through to the power company at 6:30 a.m. and am informed that it is going to be awhile. Does awhile mean a few hours, all day, what? He doesn't know, just awhile. My Gentle Assassin (aka, the cat) watched me reproachfully as I headed off to somewhere warm while he had to stay behind in the 40-degree Rubber Room. So I am curled up at Sisters Brew, working, with greasy hair and wrinkled clothes, and my Gentle Assassin is curled up underneath my favorite blanket at home, waiting for the giants to return and turn on the pellet stove.

The Strangers

Okay, so moving from the city (albeit a small city) to the middle of nowhere (aka, farmhouse in the middle of wheat fields and the forest) is not all it's cracked up to be. Things I miss: The hum of the city, lights, McCleary's Pub down the street, Flying M Coffee, Burger King, the bus, the ability to ride my bike to downtown, downtown, friends and people. As a child, my wish was to be a hermit when I grew up. The Eagles lyrics keep rolling through my head on a regular basis, "What can you do when your dreams come true, and it's not quite like you planned. . . " The thrill is definitely gone or may have not ever been there to begin with and all the deathly silence and isolation make me feel like I am one day away from actually becoming a victim of The Strangers one of these dark, strange outside noise ridden nights.