Having Company

I have a million things to do but not directly because of the move.  I have a million things to do because I want the house to look nice for company.  If it were just me, I'd probably get high and putter around the place - inside and outside in the neighborhood.  In my view, that's time well spent because of all the insight I gain from the process - although some of those insights/observations are distinctly silly and rarely bear repeating.

I should never have gotten high and gone to Macy's the other day, for example, because I wound up having to return a few key items that seemed absolutely necessary at the time but were, in fact, all together ridiculous.  The print on the silk Ralph Lauren peasant blouse was always questionable, but it was so comfortable and designed so perfectly for my figure that it might have been fabulous.  Sadly, Velvet rejected the blouse so quickly that no questions remained about the print.  I had a feeling when I bought it that I might wind up returning it, and once I had to make the return trip down to Macy's, I decided to take back another RL top that was too expensive for what is was, as well as two handbags that seemed like a good idea at the time but were not good values.  I kept the Jockey underwear, however, and the deliciously soft, damask stripe sheet set in a dusty plum which Macy's calls Rose.  The sheets are not nearly pink enough to be Rose.  They're dusty plum for sure and look divine against all that patina on the copper roof outside the window.

Normally, I don't give in to impulse purchases as a result of the mantra my mother repeated frequently during my formative years:  "Patricia, you have to discipline your random wants."  Random wants have no place in a sensible budget no matter how high you are.  Somebody needs to remind the Pentagon and Congress and the President of that.  I'm not sure what needs to happen regarding the Supreme Court since they are apparently handing over the country to Corporations.  I haven't been paying much attention because they make me nauseous, and from where I sit, it seems like the whole issue can be filed under the topic Peak Oil Has Passed because, as a society, we've passed the point of No Return.

It would be different, I suppose, if an unruly mob with torches and pitchforks stormed Washington DC like they stormed the Bastille back in the day - but given the bovine dullness and/or exhaustion and isolation of the general public, nobody's storming anything.  Worldwide Hippies Joe says that big demonstrations won't work these days like they did back in the sixties on account of Corporate Media has perfected their ability to prevent news of demonstrations like the ones in Wisconsin from ever getting on the air.  To be successful, any sort of resistance has to be organized more like a web so that actions happen simultaneously across the country and garner media attention in local markets.  Block access to the Walmart in 20 or 30 tertiary markets such as Des Moines, Lubbock, Sacramento, Kansas City so that consumers can't use their credit cards to buy plastic shit they don't need from China - and you'll be able to stop the country for an instant.  Next week, block the Home Depot.  I always figured that Osama bin Laden ought to send suicide bombers to Home Depots in tertiary markets.

I would never, ever recommend bombing anything because, as the Weather Underground showed us, people accidentally get killed.  God knows there are plenty of reasons why it looks like blowing blow up stuff is the best thing to do right now - and if it comes to that, the way the Weathermen alerted folks to pending explosions was a good system.  It's just that accidents happen.  Woody says that a few good marksmen could take out strategic communication towers which would slow down the propaganda mill.  Maybe then, we'd have true access to news, but the issue today is not The Revolution.

The issue today is Company.

I have already informed Velvet that we will be hanging the pictures when he gets home from work today.  He is such a cheerful, motivated, energetic summer camp counselor for the Parks & Recreation department's Junior Park Ranger program that it warms my motherly heart.  Since I am determined to see this project through completion, I have told him to include Cup Cake in this picture hanging fiesta.  He and Cup Cake are getting along marvelously, if the Astroglide warming lubricant and dainty little handcuffs, splashed with black marabou that were carelessly tossed into the corner behind his Xbox are any indication.

You would think that somebody would put those things in the nightstand drawer instead of leaving them casually tossed into the bedroom corner - but not Velvet.  I figure a little light bondage never hurt anybody, but the little runt accused me of snooping.  I informed him that  I was in no way snooping since (1) I legitimately wanted to discuss storage needs in his new environment when I (2) knocked on his door before entering, and (3) he was sitting right there when I noticed the marabou handcuffs and lube in plain sight there by the dang TV.  He didn't even try to argue.