Pollyanna tries to be Shiny

Lyda here. Again. At last.

So, having gone so often without posting, and for such long periods, I kept thinking that I needed to do something HUGE and EPIC for my next post. But that is so scary that it is paralyzing me into hiding under the blankets. With cats on top to hold the blanket down.

So I decided I’m just going to jump in and post something every day or two, and not think it has to be epic.

Okay, here goes….

Pollyanna and the Lost Weekend

Lyda here.

I wasn’t actually lost this weekend, just… misplaced. But only slightly. (It was not at all like this Lost Weekend.)

I was in LA visiting friends. One of the things we did was go to a fabulous restaurant in Santa Monica called The Lobster. It’s right at the entrance to the pier, with an 180-degree view of the ocean and the pier. The whole evening was amazing – incredible food, excellent mixed drinks (I wasn’t driving), and an elegantly casual atmosphere. Elegantly casual is hard to pull off if you aren’t Audrey Hepburn, but they do it well.

If you go, ask if Patrick can be your waiter. He was terrific. Listen to his recommendations on the food and you can’t go wrong.

And also?  Best. Oysters. Ever.

Pollyanna gets bogged down

Lyda here.

I have all kinds of plans to write posts about stuff – my new apartment, my new cats, my new furnishings, my new projects & reading… but most of these posts cry out for photos, and I haven’t downloaded them.

Actually, those first three are not really new. They are used and/or old.

I’ve now been in my “new” apartment for 13 months or so. The apartment was built in the 50s, I’m guessing. I moved in just in time to view my neighbors butchering a cow in the driveway. The shared driveway. I have a picture of the butchery, but I hesitate to share it. The cow arrived in the driveway already dead, and the neighbor plopped it on a tarp on the driveway and cut it into parts. I tried not to watch. I did see the blood pouring down the driveway and the neighbor’s kids running barefoot through it.

And that’s how we do Thanksgiving in my hood.

Those people have since moved out, and the new neighbors in that unit are quiet, polite, and have yet to pour blood down the driveway. It’s early days, though.

But I digress…

My furnishings are old – I got almost everything at either Salvation Army or Goodwill. I made curtains, and have a lot of painting furniture / sewing pillows / other projects on my list. Of course. Posts and pictures will be forthcoming. But I digress… 

The cats are also used – ahem, pre-owned – by one of my coworkers. The big black cat is Jinx, and she is calm, sweet, and loving. The reddish yellow cat came in as the boss of the massive climbing structure that came with the cats (don’t all cats move in with their own furniture?). She is the Red Queen as she often yowled “Off with their heads!” At least, I assume that’s what she was saying…

And then there is the kitten. Originally, my coworker was going to keep the kitten, but he left her with me while he went on a long vacation and when he came back she wasn’t having anything to do with him. I think she decided I was easier to manipulate.

The kitten was such a pale striped yellow as to be almost white, and she had a habit of hiding and then attacking passing cats, feet, and random bits of paper. She was also easily spooked, often breaking high jump records in her startlement. (“Startlement” is too a word, spellcheck.) So the kitten’s name is Spook. She has grown and calmed down a bit, and now her fur has darkened into a pale gold. But still, no paper is safe.

As the kitten grew – they will do that – she began a systematic campaign to take over the world, starting with the climbing structure. She and the Queen had some epic battles, but in the end, the Queen abdicated and the kitten was triumphant.

So Spook rules, and still attacks the others, my feet, and anything made of paper without warning. I almost named her Cato… The Queen has become a lap cat, and Jinx is still mellow.

And yes, I think this does qualify me as a crazy cat lady.

Cow-butchering neighbors an optional extra.

Pollyanna wishes you a Happy 2015

I can think of no better way to ring in the new year than to quote the new year wish of the always brilliant Neil Gaiman:

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.
So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.
Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever.

Pollyanna is not politically correct

Lyda here.

A decree came down from management that we cannot celebrate Halloween in the office any more. Apparently Halloween is not politically correct.

Geez, lighten up, people.

I’d cast a turning-them-into-bats spell, but I suspect that’s not PC either.

Anyway, I could not dress up as a zombie this year, but I’m not taking the little green witch off my desk.

In other news, I’m considering writing a country song titled “I’m turning blue from missing you, or maybe it’s because of my new jeans.”