"Now, I'm his ghost. That's not difficult. It's unbearable. I know everyone is proud of him, but I am not. And I do not wish him well." -- Christina Yang, Grey's Anatomy

"All We Need is a Witch Doctor in the Corner"

In the ever-expanding category of "proverbial straws to break this poor little camel's back," the most recent one is also, perhaps, the most absolutely ridiculous. I won't bore you with the details of every little thing that's made me want to crawl in a hole and die lately, just the most recent one.

My living room is a swamp. Or, "the bayou" as we've come to affectionately call it. Through a series of complicated and annoying electrical issues, there is a pool forming under our living room carpet. It causes deep puddles to seep up through our floor, squish between our toes, and make a generally smelly mess. It has also caused our power bill to soar sky high, seeing as a) it seems to be an air conditioner issue and b) the drying process requires us to run the air conditioner three days straight without stopping, as low as it can go.

And so, today finds the residents of the bayou eating pizza, watching as numerous repairmen traipse through the house making conflicting suggestions, and keeping an eye out for gators.

And while our bayou may not have a chorus of helpful fireflies, we do have the ever-so-pleasant hum of two industrial driers, 24-hours a day! And that sweet, swampy smell of breeding mold. And the freezing cold gusts of wind from every vent. Wouldn't you want to live here?

Confessions of a Homeless Housewife : Part II

I think one of my problems is, I am domestic in spurts. I'll have these great surges of homemakerish energy, where I feel inclined to sew, bake, organize, or bedazzle anything in sight.

It's rather like nesting, but without the egg.

If I could find a way to be consistently domestic ... to channel my love of cupcakes into opening up a little bakery. Or sew things for an Etsy shop, as I have tried and failed to do at least half a dozen times. If I could just make it all a regular part of my life ... maybe then, something good would come of it.

I've always loved the fact that I'm interested in a lot of things. I dabble in many hobbies, I explore different professions and pastimes ... but the unfortunate truth is, sometimes that makes for simply mediocre performance in many areas, rather than exquisite performance in one. I cannot make a living with my hobbies and my sporadic passions. I cannot settle down enough to dedicate my time to simply one thing. And as such, I never seem to improve in any of them.

Three cheers for substandard creativity.