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December 31, 2025...Sigh, around Sunset
Dec. 31st, 2025 04:43 pmTook today off, also am taking Friday off. Work is slower than molasses at the moment. I don't know why they were being fussbudgets about not letting me take the last two weeks of December off. It's not like I can do anything during those weeks.
It's still cold here, in the low thirties, feels like the twenties. Felt it when I went grocery shopping and to the pharmacy, mainly to get more antacid, and something for dinner tonight. I was going to make a quiche, I might still do that - traditional to make one on New Year's Eve. My mother always did when I was a kid - we'd have quiche and champagne at midnight.
Mine isn't as rich as hers was, I use half and half or almond/coconut milk creamer, three eggs, spinach, and cheddar/gureyer cheese. She used heavy cream, four eggs, spinach, bacon, and swiss and cheddar cheese.
Anyhow, on way back from grocery shopping, I was stumbling along and one block away from my apartment complex: It was cold. The sun was setting. My groceries were weighing heavy on my arms, and my knee was aching. I got to the cross walk just as the light changed, and I thought, frak it, I'll risk it - kill me if you want to, you stupid cars. I don't care. (I live in residential area, with a lot of cross-walks). Halfway across, I hear a loud honk, and look up, a young woman, with bright yellow blond hair, big sunglasses, and a round face with red lipstick has rolled down her window - from the top of a big black shiny SUV. She can't be more than twenty-five. She curses me out, calls me a bitch, and just tells me off for deigning to stumble across the cross-walk, just as the light turned, and halting her lazy privileged spoiled prissy ass from getting to where she was going. I felt the spoiled princess' rage all the way home. [ I've had Bengali drivers stop, let me go, often wave me along, long after the light has turned, and kindly smile at me. So it's not all NYC drivers.]
I guess I'm lucky the spoiled brat didn't run me over?
My knee was killing me when I got home. It doesn't handle a lot of weight or standing on it for too long. I may have to start doing grocery orders and limiting the amount of stuff I carry. I was annoyed enough at the spoiled brat that I drew her, the car, and myself - for a later watercolor.
I can still see her round face and died blond hair in my head. Like a cartoon.
***
I watched more of Angel S3 and Buffy S6 (which I like better than Angel S3). Buffy is still the better series on all cylinders. And the more relatable.
Watched Once More With Feeling for the first time in ten years. I'd forgotten a few things about it. ( Read more... )
It's still cold here, in the low thirties, feels like the twenties. Felt it when I went grocery shopping and to the pharmacy, mainly to get more antacid, and something for dinner tonight. I was going to make a quiche, I might still do that - traditional to make one on New Year's Eve. My mother always did when I was a kid - we'd have quiche and champagne at midnight.
Mine isn't as rich as hers was, I use half and half or almond/coconut milk creamer, three eggs, spinach, and cheddar/gureyer cheese. She used heavy cream, four eggs, spinach, bacon, and swiss and cheddar cheese.
Anyhow, on way back from grocery shopping, I was stumbling along and one block away from my apartment complex: It was cold. The sun was setting. My groceries were weighing heavy on my arms, and my knee was aching. I got to the cross walk just as the light changed, and I thought, frak it, I'll risk it - kill me if you want to, you stupid cars. I don't care. (I live in residential area, with a lot of cross-walks). Halfway across, I hear a loud honk, and look up, a young woman, with bright yellow blond hair, big sunglasses, and a round face with red lipstick has rolled down her window - from the top of a big black shiny SUV. She can't be more than twenty-five. She curses me out, calls me a bitch, and just tells me off for deigning to stumble across the cross-walk, just as the light turned, and halting her lazy privileged spoiled prissy ass from getting to where she was going. I felt the spoiled princess' rage all the way home. [ I've had Bengali drivers stop, let me go, often wave me along, long after the light has turned, and kindly smile at me. So it's not all NYC drivers.]
I guess I'm lucky the spoiled brat didn't run me over?
My knee was killing me when I got home. It doesn't handle a lot of weight or standing on it for too long. I may have to start doing grocery orders and limiting the amount of stuff I carry. I was annoyed enough at the spoiled brat that I drew her, the car, and myself - for a later watercolor.
I can still see her round face and died blond hair in my head. Like a cartoon.
***
I watched more of Angel S3 and Buffy S6 (which I like better than Angel S3). Buffy is still the better series on all cylinders. And the more relatable.
Watched Once More With Feeling for the first time in ten years. I'd forgotten a few things about it. ( Read more... )