Shut Yer Piehole.

I think I have an inner Roller Derby Girl, because for the past three days I have fantasized about punching/elbowing various people straight in the kisser. We just got home from the grocery store, which was, as you might imagine it would be, insane during the days leading up to Thanksgiving. My grocery store has been too uppity to stock regular tabloids in the checkout lines in years past, but today there was a National Enquirer for me to peruse while we waited. Both Eug and the cart were in front of me, and I was standing a comfortable but not ridiculous way back from my better half. We couldn't move the cart forward, because the cashier needed us to wait while he found the code for some items the store had special-ordered for us. The conveyor belt moves forward, because we don't have that many items...but we're stuck for the moment. The old broad behind me seizes upon the six inches of free space on the conveyor belt and pushes me to begin loading her items onto the belt. Oh, wait - she did say "Excuse me"...in a snotty tone of voice. Instantly, I was thinking, "You can go FUCK YOURSELF if you think I'm moving, bitch!" I refused to budge and she continued to push me. When we could finally move, I pushed past her to replace the tabloid on the rack with an equally snotty "Excuse me". Is the ten fucking seconds she saved really worth being so goddamned rude? The problem is likely our grocery store of choice - a dear friend had recently taken his brother in there, upon which said brother remarked, "It smells like old people in here." Indeed. Although I happen to think it's their shitty richer-than-thou attitude that likely stinks.

We have decided to create some major upheaval in the house in order to turn the workroom into a permanent, animal and kid-free photography studio for your truly. Eug sold me on the idea last night when I was at a particularly low point, emotionally. I'm still not sure where everything is going to wind up, but I am a tentative believer in his plan.

What I'm hoping is that I can work my way up to bringing in an average of $200/month, to start with. The sad part is that it won't even begin to go toward bills, because in order to really work my trade of choice, I need some significant equipment upgrades. In the meantime, I can work with what I've got, but if I ever hope to have clients who are not close, personal buddies, I'm going to need a camera body full-frame sensor and a lens with a maximum aperture of 1.2. For those of you who do not peruse camera porn in your spare time, that's going to run about $4500, and that doesn't include a few other things I'm going to need - including some basic remodeling of the room itself.

The Christmas stuff is down from the attic and awaits my attention, and once again I am fantasizing about replacing my Christmas tree lights. I want some fancy LEDs in soft pastels with white wire to go on my Christmas tree, but I don't know that I'm spendy enough to spring for them, as I would need something like 12 strands. Plus, I would be foregoing my all-pink lighting scheme for the first time, and I'm rather sentimental about those fire-y pink lights on my silver tree. I'm not even going to *try* to decorate the outdoors, because I have too much on my plate as it is. The interior, however, will make Liberace proud! If you want me to buy new Christmas stuff, just cover it in glitter - I'm that easy. But first I have to do some major cleaning in the living room, including denuding the couch and washing all of the cushion covers. Four cats and a puppy will do that to you.

The upcoming weeks will be IN. SANE, what with two Thanksgivings, two kids' birthdays, one trip to the Kalahari, a December birthdays family celebration and all of the attendant chaos that comes with Christmas itself. My priorities could likely use some adjustment, given that the overriding desire du jour is to find a Santa hat for Farley to wear. If I ever win the lottery, I've got two words for you: personal assistant. That would rock.

I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with gratitude and pie, and not necessarily in that order. Also, please pray that I don't actually punch anyone in the kisser, wouldya? Thank you evah so.