Tis the Season

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On this rainy, cold, dark Tuesday morning, my alarm went off extra early as I have meetings with London today, and that eight hours time difference is making me blue.

There I lay in my dark room, pondering my life and what it might take to get me up and out of the bed. The Good Man slept quietly next to me.

I froze in place when I heard outside my window a low moaning sound. It was a little otherworldly. It started very quiet and then grew in volume.

Well. I’m a child of New Mexico. You know what I thought, right?

La Llorona.

I’m not even kidding. I started *freaking out*. La Llorona here? In California? Did she follow me here? Does she live here now too?

My heart began racing as I remembered all the nights as a child I lay awake in my bed listening for La Llorona, straining my ears to hear, swearing I’d be ready to fight off her ethereal form and survive her grisly plans.

I clenched up, my stomach hurt, I bent to listen as the wailing increased in intensity. That bitch wasn’t going to get either me or The Good Man. Hell no!

And then the wailing became very loud, following by a hiss and a loud “RRRROOOWWWR!”

Oh wait, it’s just two cats fighting.

Sure. Ok. Right. I knew that all along. I’m a grown up. I’m a good kid. I’m in control of this stuff.

Relief washed over me. I joked to the now awake Good Man “what a sound to wake up to, huh?” and chuckled like my body wasn’t raging with adrenaline.

I got up to face my work day, pack my lunch, have some breakfast and shook my head at myself.

In my defense, a chilly, damp, dark October day….that’s La Llorona season. I’m just sayin’…..

: shudder :






Image found at Soda Head.


I know, right?

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“Please hold and the next available representative will take your call.”

Then that music starts up again, and it’s always gotta be some earworm song that won’t get out of your brain and you find yourself humming it in the produce section of your grocery store.

Sometimes it’s not the whole song, just a portion of it. Or some evil Muzak version of a good song (I have literally heard a Muzak version of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit”).

It’s just wrong. For a nice girl like me who spends A LOT of time each day on the phone, it’s crazy making.

Not that I need any help.



Image from Shoebox Blog.


Baby did a bad, bad thing

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And it feels so good.

After a year of working mostly twelve hour days and complete devotion to my employer, they rewarded me with a good performance review and a small bonus.

Instead of saving the money for a rainy day like a good girl would do, instead I went and did a naughty thing, and it looks a little like this:




I certainly don’t *need* an this bit of electronic gadgetry, and yet…the power of the iPad compels me.

Damn those Applearians. They got into my brain again.

Meanwhile I’m already ridiculously attached to my new device.

Just doing my part to help the economy.


Ramble On

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More Unconscious Mutterings free association fun for the post-Easter Monday morning blahs.


  1. Squid :: When handed to an experienced chef in an Italian restaurant and made into Calimari frittata? Yes please!

  2. Wife :: A descriptor I still can’t get used to.

  3. Promising :: On Friday I had to renew my driver’s license. The DMV I went to was dull, gray and windowless. That said, there were plenty of young kids in line to take their written tests to get their learner permits. For them, those government gray walls held something rather promising. For me…drudgery.

  4. Tingle :: What happened when I used The Good Man’s “invigorating body wash” containing peppermint oil. Peppermint oil + lady parts = no

  5. Off balance :: Me. Daily. Gravity and I don’t get along.

  6. Nice :: What everyone calls me. “Oh that Karen is so nice!” If they only knew the evil that lurks within my mind. I’m just too polite to act on any of it. Which is why they call me nice.

  7. Honor :: One of those phrases you hope you never have to respond to: “How do you plead?” Always reply,”Not guilty, your honor.”

  8. Emphatic :: Helps if you are rather emphatic when you say it, too.

  9. Siren :: Here’s something I don’t miss from back home in New Mexico: the tornado siren. It freaked me when they even tested the damn thing. My family’s tenure in Carlsbad was fraught with that sound. brr!

    When I visited Hawaii, I didn’t know they tested the Tsunami siren once a month. I’d taken off at a sprint before a nice bystander told me the deal.


  10. Plated :: With this whole boom in the celebrity chef, one term that’s now in the vernacular is the term plated, as in “oh I love how the chef plated this entrée.” It seems like an abomination of the English language. Not that I’m above abusing the language a little now and again. Can’t explain why this particular use just bugs me. Though doesn’t annoy me as much as “yum-o,” which should get the speaker of that phrase summarily kicked in the shin.

Ok, done rambling, verbally shambling, and linguistically wandering.





That there’s a visual pun…it’s a Rambler. The 1968 version. My folks used to own a Rambler. It got stuck in the mud up in the mountains of Cuba, NM. Good memory.


There’s a special place in hell for…

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Long time reader and cyber friend Elise suggested yesterday in the comments section that I pipe down on my Christmas cheer. So today, I bring you a crankier post, more in line with my usual holiday mood.

There is a special place in hell for…

…people who cook bacon in the work microwave. How exactly am I supposed to concentrate?

…people who park their moderately fancy car diagonally across three parking spaces.

…people who won’t take the last cookie, but they’ll break off half and leave the rest behind as a guilt offering. Just take the last damn cookie! (same deal on pie, cake, donuts and other pastries).

…people who don’t flush the toilet after they use it

…people who arrive late then stand too close to me in aerobics class. (How’s a tall girl supposed to swing these limbs with you up my behind?! I got here early and so can you.)

…people who lecture the work group about being brief in emails, and take half an hour to repeatedly make the point

…people who leave their dirty dishes in the break room for someone else to deal with instead of taking them back to the cafeteria. Entitled much?

…people who are mean as a standard course of action throughout their day (yes, I have someone in mind)

…executives of any company or government agency who cannot be bothered to acknowledge a hello when passed in the hallway, on the street, in general

…people who run Craigslist scams when an honest person is just trying to find a decent place to rent

…whoever that person is who keeps sending out the “I am a Nigerian Prince” emails. Does anyone even fall for that anymore?

…used car salesmen (no particular reason, just on general principle due to the lack of principle)

…anyone at any time as I see fit. Bwahahahahahahahaha!

Photo by Glenn Pebley and used royalty free from stock.xchng.