good sunday

Today is turning out pretty good.

Woke up late, lazed in bed.

Watched an episode of True Blood, season 4, which I was given by a coworker. It's full of truly smoking, hot, gorgeous, TALL naked men, so I fully approve of this season. It's like porn for Karla, basically. Me likey. My goth side REALLY likey. Mmmm....

After watching that episode, I got out of bed, threw some chicken, onions, garlic and green tomatillo salsa in the slow cooker, and started cooking dinner. I love the slow cooker, you just stir every few hours and go about your day, and in 8 hours, voila! Dinner!

Went to the gym. Had a good workout, my legs will kill me tomorrow. My arms are still shaky.

Come back, checked on dinner, wow, look at me slave over a hot stove, not.

Am now watching more eps of True Blood, while drinking my new favorite drink, Riondo pink prosecco. ohmyfuckinggod is that stuff good.

Later, after dinner (see above re: slaving, etc) I will have a nice hot bath, more prosecco, and then a good night's sleep.

I rather like today. (Though I didn't do the one thing I needed to do, which is clean some shit up around here, but, eh, it will wait, it always does.) Now if you will excuse me, I think Eric Northman is about to get naked again, I don't want to miss that.

PS Holy shit, just noticed I haven't posted in 2 weeks? Really? Sorry about that, truly. I had no idea my frequency of posting has dropped that much. I will try to be better. I always mean to post, but usually at the end of the day I am so sick of computers, the last thing I want to do is be on one some more. I'll try to post more, sorry about that! (If anyone is left reading, that is....)

While I wait for my bath to fill up, a bullet post

• I totally don't get the Tim Tebow thing, and I never will.
• This is because, mainly, that I am not a football fan.
  
• Never have been.
• Yes, I know this is heresy for a Texan.
• Bite me.
  
• Anyhow, I don't get why this guy is being so lauded for his religious zealotry.
• I wonder if people would admire him as much if he were Muslim or Buddhist.
• Heh, I bet not.
• I get restless this time of year.
• Something about the cold, and the light starting to rebuild, and me being stuck inside.
• (Funny, I talked to my mom yesterday, like I do every Saturday, and she gets like this too. Is it genetic?)
  
• It usually means I clean stuff and throw shit out.
• Today I hit my bathroom, got rid of old vitamins, hair products, etc.
• And cleaned every shelf in there.
  
• I also vacuumed, mopped the whole apartment, and completely cleaned the kitchen top to bottom.
• I had no idea that the kitchen fan filter could get THAT disgusting.
  
• Note to self, clean that sucker way more often.
  
• Then I was still hyper (listening to music does that to me) so I worked out.
• Just a small workout on my mini trampoline, with weights and stuff.
• (I hate doing squats, but they are mighty effective!)
  
• Not as big a workout as at the gym, but I could still watch the Las Vegas Pawn Stars at the same time.
• I love that show.
• I need to buy heavier hand weights.
  
• Rich made dinner.
• He's got the potential to be a good cook, he just needs to learn those little tricks of the trade, like what you can substitute for other stuff and that you can tweak a recipe to suit.
• So he made a very good chicken pot pie.
  
• I was impressed.
• I'm also full.
  
• Burp.
  
• Back to work tomorrow.
  
• Oh lord this time of year is hard.
• No time off any time soon and just one slog after another.
• I do have a little break coming up soon in London, though.
  
• Yippee!
• Oh, and just because I could: I bought a US size 10 leather dress the other day. SIZE FREAKING 10! it fit!
  
• Squeee!
  

my pants

IMG-20120105-01048.jpg, a photo by karlakp on Flickr.

My pants have this vaguely Asian language print on them. I've had them for years. I rarely wear them because, once, I wore them when I was at Epcot on a vacation and people (mostly Asians) kept staring at me. And staring. And staring. I don't generally like having my ass stared at in the best of times, so of course t his started to wig me out.

I got totally paranoid, then, because I realized, these pants could be a total billboard of stupidity. Like, the fabric designer could have written all over the fabric (and hence my ass) things like "The person wearing these pants is an idiot!" or "This is the biggest ass in the world!" "I am fat and ugly and my butthole smells funny!" and I'd totally be walking around oblivious to the fact that my pants are a giant joke perpetrated by some clever and cruel fabric designer.

Think about it. It could happen.

So, even though I love these pants, they fit like the bomb and they are red and black, which I love, I rarely wear them because i am really jsut too worried about what they might say.

Yeah, first world problem or what?