coffee and toast

[dragonlady7]

It's my week to be in charge of the kitchen at my office, so I bring in bread and milk and run the dishwasher. Woot. I don't know why everyone else always brings in Wonderbread; the decent stuff at Wegman's may be twice as expensive but it's still like... five dollars for a week's worth of the stuff. And while Wegman's has high prices on a lot of stuff, they do consistently have the lowest price on gallons of milk.
The consensus seems to be as skim as possible on the milk, so I brought 1% which is as skim as I can stand, but now I'm seeing that last week's person brought 2%. So if I need to get another gallon, I'm getting 2%. I'm also considering just picking up some motherfucking heavy cream, because I can't stand drinking gray coffee. This mostly-whey "milk" shit is not working so well for me.

Awesome weekend of socializing-- Z's father's sister's kids' kid graduated high school, so there was a big party in Batavia, with tiny children and funny older people and passels o' kids of all ages, which I don't usually get to see. My world is more multi-aged than it used to be, but it's still pretty narrow-- I never hang out with really old or really young people. To me, now, 22 is a "baby". Which would have infuriated me at 22, but that's part of being 22.
(Scroll back a couple years. I think 22 is within my history on this site. Yeah, I rest my case.)
Then Sunday was a party at Mia Mauler's, mostly Knockouts. Sweets brought Edgar, who is two and something, and so friggin cute. He was shy at first, but apparently he's used to being the only youngster in a crowd of adults, so he soon warmed up and was ridiculously adorable. He went through a phase of opening the cooler, extracting an ice cube, and bringing it to various people to put into their drinks or on their plates. He also was fascinated by the lawn mower in the garage, which was resting with one wheel not quite touching the ground, so he could turn it if he pushed at it. He thought that was great. He also thought the snowblower was fun. And when his mom asked him if he wanted to go swimming, he screamed in excitement and tore off all his clothing and ran around naked.
Which was a new one for most of us, as... actually every single other person there was not a parent, and Mia commented that there had never been a child in the house before. Her cats were sports about it, to her surprise.


Z stayed home for the second party, pleading a need to decompress. I know what he means; I like regular long stretches of just hanging out in my house, but I couldn't've relaxed knowing I was missing something. I just would've paced around. I won't have a weekend to decompress for... hm. Don't know, actually.

I've missed some comments, I think. If I have downtime today I might try to find them. I have shopping to do tonight, though I don't know when I'll do it-- may leave Z at home and go gallivant a bit. We'll see. He and the kitten bonded.

Oh we came up for a name for her yesterday morning. Chita. Not Cheetah, though the un-hip may assume that's what we mean. No, Chita Rivera. The dancer recently came to Buffalo for some event, and Artvoice's theatre editor was so excited about it he did a running countdown week by week for over a year. "Only 62 weeks till Chita Rivera!" the banner at the bottom of Gaywatch proclaimed. It became a running gag among the staff. Meanwhile the theatre director had a mural of her painted in his dining room.
I guess she's important to gay people.

Meanwhile, the kitten has begun already to respond to "Chita!" mostly because of the appealing cluster of consonants.

I am at work now, as cross-dressed as I can pull off-- gray flare-cut dress trousers in a pinstriped texture, with a matching vest. Bought the outfit in H&M in Manhattan about five or so years ago, and a button popped off the vest so I never wore it. Fixed it in literally two minutes this morning, and am feeling cute. Except that my white button-down shirt, which has fit for years, is suddenly tight, and is gapping so that my bra's pink bow sticks out just above the vest's top button.
Not very manly. But I can't really truly gender-bend, not with these boobs. I do think it would be lovely to have a wardrobe of men's-like clothing, except tailored. I just need a tailor. God knows my attempts to learn it haven't gone far.

Comments

[heebiejeebie.livejournal.com]

I think it's wonderful that you named her Chita Rivera!!!! omg!