What the hell have I been up to?I’ve

What the hell have I been up to?

I’ve been sans computer for a while, so my very minimal blagging was on Tumblr. I got a Chromebook a couple weeks back, so ideally I’ll get to posting more soon.

I’m Yelp Elite now. My reviews are overwhelmingly positive, unlike a lot of Yelpers. 93% of my reviews are three stars or higher. 50% of my reviews are four or five stars. (The only time I’m really harsh is if you have a job working in a nice, climate-controlled office with little potential for personal injury and limited interaction with the general public and you’re still a douche. It’s a pretty exclusive category.) I’m actually not sure what Yelp Elite is FOR. There’s some promotional parties for things, but basically it doesn’t mean anything? I Yelp because it’s helped me find new things to do and places to go when I’ve moved cities, and I like reviewing things that don’t need reviews. Like the Pike Place Gum Wall. Ew.

Anyway. I’ve been writing a bit more. I’m 5000 words into a project. I hear talking about it makes you less likely to actually do it. I’d like to have something one can actually hold by September or so.

I have a dog, Ludo, who eats free time and craps out love. Seriously, he’s wonderful, but I get significantly less sleep with him around. And I’ve had a video game for a month that I haven’t yet played. But going to the dog park is probably the best thing ever. My next post might be all about how to make dog biscuits. Stay tuned.

So what the hell am I up to?

I’m the worst at blogging. Since moving to Seattle, I’ve gotten a job and a dog. I also don’t have a computer. Mine didn’t do well in the move, I’m stuck using Jarod’s. I have a smartphone these days so it’s not much of a hardship.

Seattle!

It’s Facebook-official, so that means I can post it here. Over the course of December my husband and I are packing up our stuff and our two cats and moving from central Florida to Seattle!

Fortunately we’re not going overland. If we were, we’d end up adding about ten hours to the trip and hugging the south and the coast, because I’ve played the Oregon Trail and I know you don’t go out west during the winter unless you want to get lost in the snow, break your arm and die of dysentery. Instead we’re boxing up a portion of our stuff, giving away the rest, selling the car, and flying.

Yipes.

Married life

Husband: I don’t think that guinea pig thing is true.

Me: It is! Oh…the circles thing?

Husband: Did you see it happen?

Me: No, but my small animal science teacher said so in high school.

Husband: Let’s get a guinea pig and test it!

Me: No!

Husband: You never let me do anything.

Me: You won’t let me have a goat!

Husband: That’s true.

Me: I’m blogging this exchange.

Husband: Just be sure to tell them I’m winning.

And then he tripped on his face, looked ridiculous, and gave me a trophy for being right about everything ever. The moral of the story: I control the family press release. CHECKMATE.

The Checklist

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

-Robert A. Heinlein

All humans should be able to level a Magikarp to a Gyarados, identify the difference between a Voltorb and an Electrode, and beat Whitney’s Miltank in a Nuzlocke run. Maybe not the last part. Points for knowing what a Nuzlocke run is!

Oh, Heinlein. I can’t do half of that shit, and I can only write a sonnet if you’re willing to excuse some fucking terrible liberties with the English language. How often does any of this come up?

Here’s my list: bandage a wound, research basic shit, negotiate public transit, follow current events, read, write coherently, handle their banking, cook meals that include protein and vegetables, understand and use contraceptives, launder their own clothes, manage their hygiene, speak adequately, listen well. Bonus points for being able to walk a few miles, sew a button and do basic household maintenance.

Not everybody can do everything, but you know… points for effort.

Even Cats Love Chai

She stole this box out of the recycling

“That smells delicious,” thought Tumble, “I wonder if my head will fit inside?”

Tumble loves boxes and hates recycling. She spends a good deal of her time trying to knock over our paper bin or lolling around inside it.

People always say they want smart pets, but Tumble is annoyingly smart. She gets bored easily. She’s possessive and jealous. When I moved in with my now-husband, she used to gently claw my head or my wrists at night. Not enough to harm, just enough to send a message. “I’m allowing you to live for now, soft human, but I could totally eat your eyeballs. Mm, eyeballs.” My husband got Tumble from a rescue when she was just a kitten and she’s absolutely devoted to him. If I was second in bed, I’d find her sprawled in my spot. It is surprisingly hard to move an eight-pound cat who doesn’t want to be moved.

Sometimes at night I’ll wake up to the repeated “Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.” of Tumble opening and closing our kitchen and bathroom cabinets. I’ve babyproofed our cleaning supplies.

She’s curious to the point where it’s sometimes a problem. It’s cute that she pushes open the bathroom door when you haven’t closed it all the way. But Tumble needs to know what you’re doing. She needs to taste the water in your glass! How else can she be sure it’s safe?

The box won this round. She rolled around like that for like five minutes.

The extremely masculine hand belongs to my husband, incidentally.

My taller half is in the habit of leaving a glass of water on his nightstand, and then getting annoyed when Tumble sticks her face in it. I will buy him a sippy cup for Axemas.

I’ve always heard that people don’t adopt black cats and dogs disproportionately to the rest of the adoptable pet population. People say it’s based in superstition, but I imagine it’s also because it’s so damn hard to get a picture that isn’t just kitty laser eyes and shadow. And also superstition. Tumble is only bad luck in that she keeps breaking glasses.

She’s annoyingly bright. I can’t overemphasize this. If my husband lets his alarm clock go for too long, she bats him in the face with her paw and headbutts him until he turns it off. If she wants your attention, she will get it, goddammit. It is adorable how loyal she is: if I’m awake and he’s not, she’ll follow me around. When he wakes up, she comes running over and demands attention.

Tumble is basically a scarf that loves you. If I’m alone in the house and I’m working at the computer, she’ll spend a lot of energy trying to get into my lap. I can’t type with her there, so I put her around my shoulders. She’s not that big, but she’s long and stretchy and will sit there for hours or until I get too warm.

Tumble hates recycling and loves boxes

Oh, Tumble.

The tea, by the way, is Tulsi chai. I usually make my own from Ceylon and cheap spices (international-style markets are amazing) but it was given to me as a gift and it’s pretty good. It’s a little pricier than I like for bagged tea, but that’s what made it a good gift, something I wouldn’t buy for myself. And it’s 100% Tumble-approved.

We have two cats, incidentally. The other one prefers coffee and isn’t quite as comfortable getting her picture taken.

She didn't like boarding with our friends.

She’s actually a marshmallow, I swear.

True story about the coffee. When I rescued her, I was working at the evil empire of coffee chains. I gave her one of my work shirts to sleep on while I was getting to know her and she’s been known to try to open bags of ground coffee.

The virtual tea party

Conan! What’s best in life?

Tea time? It's always tea time.

Tea clock by Hamed Saber

A comfortable place to sit, a good pot of tea, and friends to share it with.

It’s a lot of work to throw a tea party. You have to find a day when everyone can make it. You have to clean the house and sometimes rearrange the furniture. Refreshments must be made. Conversation has to be steered away from sensitive topics. Clean-up must be done afterwards. If the party’s successful, you’re expected to host another.

There’s no substitute for the real thing, naturally, but one can hold a decent salon online. You like tea? Cool, me too! You’re in the right place. You like cooking weird things, reading voraciously and crafting? Holy fuck, are you Pinterest? Let’s be lady-bros!

The philosophy of Biscuits For Tea: try to like stuff. I’m going to post about stuff I enjoy and we’re going to have some goddamned positivity in here. It’s okay to dislike things, but in general, I make an effort to like things up until they suck. And while I enjoy irony as much as the next twenty-something, I try to approach things in a sincere, genuine manner.

Welcome to my virtual tea party! We’re reclaiming tea parties for people who want to drink tea from little cups.