Kristi,

You know I think it's something special that we've been such good friends for such a long time. I don't have any other friends whom I've been close to for this long, and I don't know anyone else personally who does.

It is with that in mind that I say GOOD LORD, we are odd people. I am really, really grateful to have someone in my life who is as much of a freaky weirdo on so many levels as me. I've written before about how we played leggies, but I'm not sure I mentioned our imaginary world that only we knew about and only we could get to, or our Barbie movies, or that time that we thought someone had broken into your mom's house and we armed ourselves with glass trophies. I'm pretty sure I've never mentioned how we've tried our entire lives to somehow become related. First we thought my mom and your dad should get married, then my sister and your brother, and now we're planning how Reed will marry your kid, even if it's a boy because maybe gay marriage will be legal in Alabama by then. And I'm starting to think that if gay marriage becomes legal, maybe they'll just throw in polygamy and we can just marry each other, FOR GOD'S SAKES WE MIGHT AS WELL JUST GET IT OVER WITH. Jason, Chris, Reed, Myrna, Duque, you, I, and little future Steamboat could just build ourselves a little commune and grow tomatoes and shit.

You should know that I am so proud of you for graduating from law school. This is a huge accomplishment, especially since you came so far to get here. And I'm not just talking about Texas, I'm saying you really had to do some traveling to get to this place. I am fairly certain that I would have given up some where along the way and picked up a healthy drinking habit. You picked up the healthy drinking habit AND STILL KEPT GOING, you're a multi-tasker if nothing else and that counts for so much these days. Be sure and put that on your resume.

And HOORAY for your first clients because now you get to be our lawyer! I just have a few felonies that I need wiped from my record. And some debts to erase. And a couple of people to knock off. That's what lawyers do, right? I am totally in to this.

I am happy that we are learning the ability to share our flaws. Because, shh, don't tell, I have some. Ha! ZING! That right there that's a loaded statement. Seriously, though, it is absolutely no secret that I am so far from perfect, and I am so lucky to be friends with someone who can deal with it, who can roll with my imperfections, because I know it is pretty difficult at times. I am not always an easy person to get along with. That's why I pick friends who throw trash cans, because if ANYONE can figure out how to deal with my crazy ass, it's a person who throws trash cans. Right?

Logic: I learnt it at university.

Really and truly, we are alike in more ways than we're different, and I will never know how to express to you how important it is to me that we remain friends. Jason is cool and all, but he cannot sing every word to Deee Lite's World Clique. FATAL FLAW.

Really I should probably also say thank you on behalf of Jason: I don't think our marriage would have lasted this long without you behalfin' some of my shit so Jason doesn't have to be behalfin' it all. YOU SHARE THE LOAD, and I'm pretty sure from that desperate look Jason sometimes gets that he's grateful to you for it.

I think our plan for Chris and Jason to head to Vegas whenever you get pregnant and for me to move in with you is a GREAT IDEA, by the way. Pregnancy is really really weird, especially for people like us who were already just a tad weird to begin with. I can't wait to share that experience with you. When I was pregnant I didn't really hang out with anybody who had been pregnant before, so there weren't a whole lot of knowing looks or understanding being passed around. I'm not trying to say that all of my friends weren't totally awesome and sweet and caring because they all were; but it's just like when I'm sitting there with somebody who knows how to balance a checkbook: I got nothin' for ya. I think it's rad and all that you can balance your checkbook, but I can't really share a whole lot with you about it.

When you're pregnant I am probably going to be obnoxiously all I know and oh, honey, I get it and here come the hemorrhoids and when you're in labor I'm coming in there to get me one of those epidurals and all that shit. Or, you never know, you might be one of those ladies who is a little kooky to begin with and when you get pregnant all those hormones just turn you into a normal person. And if that's the case I'm going to be like, bitch. Because I was kooky to begin with and all those hormones just turned me into kookier.

Anyways, the point is I will be there, and it will be fun and nutty and the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, and I really hope you let me share it with you. Your body is equipped to build a person. Biology and shit: fuckin' 'ey.

I want you to know that I value every single thing that you bring to my life- your friendship, your sense of humor, your unfailing ability to withstand my finger in your face when you roll your eyes, your faithfulness, the intense love you have for your family, your ability to accept not only my flaws but every one's flaws. You are a beautiful person and I hope and pray that I can bring even a tiny bit of the wonderful things to you that you bring to me.

Because I love you eight days a week. And that's a pretty big deal considering that there are only seven days in a week. Just sayin'.

25 Things.

John tagged me to do this one on Facebook, but I can only do Facebook on my phone, so I deemed it too annoying to work on except to do it here. There's your explanation.

1. I am afraid of the dark. I have always been afraid of the dark. I frequently think I see things or hear things when the lights are out. If Jason isn't in bed yet, I don't turn the light out.

2. I am terrified of ending up alone. I imagine that one day Jason will leave me, and all my friends will be gone by then because I'm so annoying/unfunny/needy/crazy/bitchy/Mexicanfoody/drinky.

3. I eat a lot of Mexican food. What's startling is that I crave Mexican food for pretty much every meal. I dream about cheese dip and a nice taco salad with jalapenos. Jason likes Mexican food okay, but he also has a sensitive stomach so Mexican can mean some interesting bathroom experiences for him for a couple of days afterwards. Still, he'll eat Mexican food with me almost any time I ask. Now we have a child that when I pick him up from daycare will BEG AND PLEAD, "Can't we PLEEEEEEEEEASE go to the messican restaurant?" The staff at the local place knows his name. They also know my voice when I call to order take-out.

4. I have too many clothes. Seriously, I have jeans that I'm too big for AND jeans that I'm too small for. I keep both just in case I gain OR lose weight. Doc Martens that I bought nine years ago? Got 'em. 30 pairs of flip flops, tons of flats, boots that my dad bought me when I was 21: yes, yes, yes. A few things that didn't even quite fit right when I bought them but were on such a good sale and were a style that I really liked but I've still never worn them because THEY NEVER QUITE FIT RIGHT: yes. New stuff on the way: fuck me, yes.

5. I really, really don't like some of the most popular funny movies in recent history, such as Space Balls, Home Alone, Caddyshack, and all those Naked Gun movies. I'm just not usually a big fan of slapstick, goofy stuff. I say this, and yet I LOVE 40 Year Old Virgin, Bring It On, and Wedding Crashers. I don't know.

6. At work, out of about ten bathroom stalls, there is one particular stall that I always choose to go to for number two. It is not the very first one or the very last one.

7. I think perhaps I am a mediocre mom. I don't like germs, I don't like going to the park, I don't like arguing with a midget, I don't like getting kicked in the boob. I hope that what I lack in squee-ness I make up for in super-coolness and intense, loving hugs. There's one thing: I will always let Reed sit in my lap, and I am always up for a snuggle.

8. I am totally obsessed with small electronic items. When Palm first popped up I wanted one, like REALLY wanted one, thought about it all the time. Then it was the Razr, then an iPhone, then a Blackberry. Laptops, stuff for the camera, iPods, these are a few of my favorite things.

9. My most feared illness is anything that makes my stomach feel bad or, PLEASE GOD NO, makes me throw up. I don't like getting any kind of illness (of course), but I can stand a cold, can tolerate diarrhea, can muddle through aches and pains. But if my stomach feels bad or if I'm throwing up, I am a mess, a big baby, a whiny pool of KILL ME NOW that stays in bed and lies very still and covers her eyes with a cool rag and wants complete silence.

10. I really, really like sleeping, resting, and hanging around in bed. There are days in which, if I had a nanny for Reed and no job to go to, I could stay in bed all day long. What time I go to bed at night makes no difference; I can go to sleep at 9pm and still want to stay in bed until 12 or 1 the next afternoon.

11. I really love my friends. The love that I feel for my friends is exactly the same love that I feel for my family. I once had a boyfriend who got mad at me because I spent so much time with my friends, and I explained to him that the intensity and commitment that he felt about going to band practice (several times a week) was the same intensity and commitment I felt about spending time with my best friends. He claimed he understood, but I'm pretty sure that that situation played a large part in our relationship's undoing.

12. I love reading blogs. I read Dooce and Sarah and Antonia on a regular basis. I also read my friend Lindsey's pop culture blog, and my friend Paul just started a really interesting one, and my cousin and my mom. There's my friend Birdie, and then I just discovered this girl yesterday and I discovered this girl last week. I like blogs, and I like reading blogs, and I like writing blogs.

13. Just about the only thing that I know of that I don't like to eat is olives. I'm not a big fan of sushi, but I can eat it. I probably don't like anchovies- I've never tried them. For the most part I like everything else IN THE WORLD there is to eat. I know you guys can come up with some weird stuff that I've never had- pickled pigs' feet and chitterlings and whatnot. But for the most part, I like pretty much anything. For example, I like fried chicken livers. Yep, I said it. When I was a kid I ate an entire jar of sliced dill pickles, which I promptly threw up. I also have always loved A-1 sauce. LOVE IT. When I was young I would pour myself some A-1and THEN try and find something to dip into it.

14. My parents divorced when I was 14 and I was SO RELIEVED because they fought all the time and it was awful and tense and I knew things would get better once they didn't try to be married people any more. Then after my dad moved out, we suddenly spent more time together. He took me out to eat almost every weekend. We still weren't best friends, but it was certainly more time than we ever spent together before. Then my mom and dad remarried each other when I was about 21, and I got really excited because I thought we would be like a regular family, that we'd all be able to spend time with each other and eat dinner together and that kind of thing. Alas, it didn't happen; they were unhappy and re divorced about a year later. Now I never see my dad. He doesn't call and invite me to do anything and I don't call and invite him to do anything.

15. My sister India is really my half-sister; we have different fathers. But when I was born and all through growing up she lived with us and we always just thought of each other as sisters, still do. We just can't seem to see eye-to-eye on things, so we don't get along very well now. But we were pretty close up until about 14 or 15 years ago.

16. My mom is one of my best friends. She irritates the living shit out of me sometimes, but I figure that's probably payback for how much I irritated her when I was growing up. One time I stood next to her and said, "Can I? Can I? Can I?" over and over until she stood up and thrashed me with a newspaper. I think she's entitled to irritate me a little bit. In spite of our mutual irritation we still are best friends, I think. When I am mad or sad or happy, she's one of the first people I call to tell about it.

17. Jason is impossibly cool and so nice and is the best man I've ever known. That's why I'm so sure he'll leave me eventually: there is no possible way that I am cool enough to hold onto this guy. I am dorky and crazy and crotchety and irritable and obsessive about cleanliness. Jason, on the other hand, is laid back and well-meaning and smart and knows tons about music and movies and history and deserving of a nice lady. Unfortunately I'm not sure that I'm a nice lady. I'm nicer than his ex is though, so I guess he's moving closer to the mark. I hope maybe something has happened to his brain that causes him to think that I'm that right one for him, because I don't ever want to be without him.

18. I cannot stand when people mispronounce words. "Nucular" is the worst one, which started when Josh pointed out that Steve said it the wrong way, and then we got a president who said it the wrong way and it's all I could hear, every time he spoke. IT IS NOT "NUCULAR", IT IS "NUCLEAR". It is not "real-IH-tor", it is "real-tor"- no "ih", it is a 2-syllable word, not 3. I could go on for days. When people say "pitcher" for "picture", I throw up in my mouth a little bit.

19. I am terrible at talking to people. With my friends or family I'm usually fine, but at work or in restaurants or stores or on the phone I am TERRIBLE. I lose my train of thought, I get sweaty and nervous, I misunderstand the other person, I can't think of what to say, I make stuff up to try and get out of the situation faster, and I almost always come away from it loathing myself and feeling like I'm going to puke.

20. I believe very deeply in God and Jesus, but I don't go to church hardly ever and I don't quote the Bible. I feel strongly that Jesus loves us and he WANTS to love us and that people make mistakes and that if everyone who said "fuck" or smoked a cigarette went to hell, then hell must be like the Galleria at Christmas (crowded as fuck). I think that Jesus just wants us to try to be good people and that the effort alone means something and God is by definition smarter than us and He doesn't expect us to be as smart as he is, because that wouldn't really be fair, would it? To me the whole point is that Jesus loves me and will forgive me and just wants good things for me and wants me to strive towards those good things to make them happen for myself because you can't just dick around and wait for somebody else to make good things happen for you, and that folks should spread joy around as much as they can because not everyone can find joy by themselves.

21. I love to laugh and I love to make people laugh and I love to laugh with other people, at myself and/or all by myself. That's why I love to read Dooce and Sarah and McSweeney's: their stuff makes me laugh out loud. If this doesn't make you laugh, you are a robot (Chris, you don't count).

22. Reed likes the Vandals, the B-52s, Empire Records, the Office, and Mexican food. My work here is done.

23. 25 things is a fucking lot of things. It took me two days to write this.

24. I have never been good at standing up for myself, at letting people know when they're hurting my feelings or making me mad or sad or taking advantage of me. It is something that I'm working on this year and I am already managing to open my mouth more frequently.

25. Jason started uttering the phrase "That's what she said" several months ago at the appropriate (inappropriate) moments ("I can't fit this into the box." "That's what she said."). As a result, I now say it in my head any time anybody says anything remotely deserving of "That's what she said." My boss said, "No, I don't like nuts in my stuff" last week. FOR FUCK'SAKES. That's what she said.

Mardi Gras, you slutty bitches.

Lindsey sent these to me last week and I deemed them appropriate for this day, Mardi Gras day:

EVERY SO OFTEN YOU SHOULD USE UP ONE OF YOUR SICK DAYS AT WORK TO GO ON A WILD AND CRAZY ADVENTURE WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND.

And if you don't know, now ya know.

Happy day, Martin Luther King, Jr.

This weekend was a really good one. It's not frequent that I have the urge to write, hey, things were good, so I felt like I ought to write it seeing as how I thought it. Mexican Train, rap music, and homemade pizza with some of my favorite people- good times.

I'm about to make a whole mess of new jewelry; I'm just waiting on a few slow arrivals, some new supplies, to get started. My Etsy is somewhere around a year old now. Considering the during the first ten months I made something like 8 sales, and then in the last two months I've made something like 14 more, I'd say things are looking up.

I'm about to get in touch with George at Speakeasy and talk to him about having another show like last year's. I'm hoping he'll be cool with it. We had such a great time and sold so much stuff.

It's all quiet on the shithead front right now. If I was stupid enough to think that meant that things were calming down, getting better, I might feel good about it. But I've lived this life long enough to know that it just means there's some scheming going on, and it makes me nervous.

I poop frequently these days.

HA! Snuck it in there on you. I haven't talked about my bowel movements in a while. Gotcha.

Reed has been using the potty most of the time. Once a couple of weeks ago he even went to the potty, used a chair to turn the light on, pooped, and came back and laid down on the futon at bedtime without even telling me about it. I discovered the poop in the potty and asked him and he was like, "Yeah." Like, "Of course I pooped in the potty, Philistine, where else would I have pooped?" I think all we have left to work on is peeing in the middle of the night. It must be hard to train your body not to pee in the night when it's so used to doing so. But we'll get there.

Well, I guess we also have to work on standing up and peeing instead of sitting down, because I have to tell you, more than once in the past couple of days we've had a pee arc that manages to soak everything in the room- Reed's clothes, the bathmat, anything in a three foot radius of the toilet. The child produces a lot of urine, just like his mama.

Finally if you haven't looked yet, you should check out Daily Doo and Talkies Are Dumb.

Rearin'.

This Saturday is Reed's third birthday. We bought him a tiny skateboard and some knee- and elbow-pads, and I can't wait to give them to him. I am not looking forward to all the injuries, but watching him learn will be fun.

I can't believe what a little dude he is now. He watches Batman and plays with (toy) swords and guns. Then, out of no where, he'll ask, "Can my baby have these? My baby wants to play with this. Can we go get me a baby?"

Kids are WEIRD, and the more you think you know them the less predictable they become.

Occasionally, just every now and then, he'll snuggle up with me and, without warning, turn to me and say, "I love you, mommy." And it makes me feel so overwhelmed, so happy, so imperfect and incapable of doing everything that I want to do for him, all at the same time. He told me the other night, "I'm yo friend and I'm daddy's friend. Yaw my friends."

My hope is that one day I'll be able to look back on all of this through the eyes of a woman who has raised her child, a woman who looks at her grown, happy, healthy child and knows she did the best she could and knows "the best she could" did enough to make him sane and normal and competent. I want so much for him to be joyous and unafraid and caring and kind. I hope that I have the stamina and humility to instill all of that in him.

And I hope that the crazy in my family runs only in the girls. I would truly love it, would be content with my life, if Reed lives a life devoid of the desire/instinct to stab himself in the eye, hit himself in the face with a shovel, or throw himself into the floor and writhe around for a while.

Rocking the vote this afternoon, then watching the coverage with friends this evening. Good stuff; looking forward, for a change.

I am floored lately by my closest friends' abilities to simultaneously take care of me and put up with me.

Regarding my new job, it's comforting in an I-can-do-this, not-interesting-enough-to-be-scary, for-the-love-of-God-I'll-get-a-paycheck kind of way.

Reed was a cow for Halloween; pictures to come.

187 on a motherfuckin'...

I am still attempting to get some photos uploaded. We brought our iMac to the library on Thursday but we couldn't get it to connect to the internet. Now I have them burned on a disc but the library computers have the disc drive disabled. THANKS, PUBLIC LIBRARIES OF AMERICA, FOR FUCKING UP MY DAY.

I attended a pretty wild party last night with old friends, new friends, and everything in between, and I have to say that we are still cool enough to have the cops called on our parties. Because that's how you measure cool: by how angry you can make your neighbors.

Well, I figured after my woe-is-me update from yesterday, I should add something positive.

Last weekend we photographed a wedding of a friend that I haven't been able to spend nearly enough time with over the past few years. The wedding was really lovely, and I think we did a great job. I'm really excited; I think these pictures are some of the prettiest that we've ever taken. As soon as we deliver to the new couple I'm going to post some here.

We're photographing another wedding this weekend, which means more practice and a little more money- both very good things. I hope we can do as well this weekend as we did last weekend.

As much complaining and fretting as I so around here, I'd like to say thanks to everyone who is still reading. I love you guys. Keep reading.

Hodge podge.

I have several things I'd like to get to in this post, so this one is going to be a bit all-over-the-place.

First, I am very, very sad and worried for someone that I love who has just experienced a death in her immediate family. This past several months have been overwhelming, I imagine, and this probably seems like more of a load than you can bear. Don't forget to lean on the people around you who love you when it feels like too much for you. I love you so much, and I know a lot of other people who love you so much, too.

Next, I have been without cable for some time, and for whatever reason we can't really pick up any of the local channels either. Besides all the ridiculous sitcoms and out-of-touch-with-reality medical dramas that some people in this house have been despondent to be missing, we also haven't been able to watch many of the current political dramas. I realize that stuff like that can be viewed on the internet, but I spend so much time job-hunting on the internet that I usually am sick of it by the time there is a moment for anything else.

Point is, this post from Dooce contains a video that makes me simultaneously want to claw my own eyes out and throw my computer out the window. Of course I had already heard about most of this, but just now is the first time I've actually watched it. Mind-boggling.

In similar news, I may be going to drink beer and watch the debates tonight. Look at me taking part! I am impressing myself.

Chris,

Good Lord, child, you are 27 years old. Happy birthday. Change your diaper.

I'm kidding. I love you dearly; I can safely say that I have never loved any of Kristi's boys as much as I love you. I think you are practically perfect in every way in that you are sweet, kind, sincere; you love Mexican food; you love my child; you can have a garbage can thrown at you and still want to be there the next day.



I have often thought lately how lucky I am to be best friends with Kristi, someone who is so like me and who I am so alike to. She and I have known each other a very long time; we have a lot of memories and good times to look back on, as well as to look forward to. I lucked out in falling in love with a man who Kristi loves and respects and likes being around. What is a surprising coincidence is that she fell in love with someone who is so oddly like my man. So it makes perfect sense that I would trust and respect you the same way Kristi trusts and respects Jason.



Chris, one of these days you will have children, and will be expected to be a role model.



Don't worry; Kane, Jude and Reed are all surprisingly normal, resilient, smart, confident, in spite of... some circumstances.



Chris, I hope you have a happy birthday. You certainly have someone wonderful to share it with. Thank you for being my friend, and for being a friend to my children. And thanks for moving closer, so that I may get drunk on your front porch at least once a week.



Love,
Buffy

08.08.08

Stephanie,

You are one of the nicest, free-est, most sincere people I've ever known. You are a person who has actually inspired me to send a text that says, "Ooo, you're like the sun: chasing all the rain away." You have never hesitated to love me no matter what. You have never passed judgement on me. You have never made me feel like I might do something to make you love me less.

Oh, Steph, where do I start with you? When we threw bottles off of the fire escape at Watts? Skinny dipping at Green Valley? Showing our boobs for beers? Playing guitar and having sing-alongs on the beach in Pensacola? Or the billion other sing-alongs that we had a billion other places? Drinking games, hangovers, coffee, dinner, shopping, guitars, keyboards, snakes, kitties, mice?

Stephanie, getting married is a big deal; it works for some people and for others it doesn't. What I hope for you is that you've found a man who supports all of your dreams and quirkiness. I hope that he can give you the kind of life that will allow you to flourish, to really be. I hope that you cook dinner together every night with vegetables from your garden, that there is a vase of flowers from your yard on the table, and that one day there will be a crib with a tiny, wriggling little thing in it that you and James gaze lovingly at before you mix your evening cocktail.

And for the reality portion of this post: this is going to be very hard. You are going to have moments where you wonder who James is, wonder who you are, wonder where your brain was when you decided being married was a good idea. If there ever is a wriggling little thing you are going to wonder how you got that one, that one that cries and screams and says "no" and says "oh fuckin' damnit" and throws things and poops on the bathmat.

Wait, that's my life. Nevermind. Yours is going to be rosy and calm and I will be jealous forever. But if it ever should resemble mine, remember that you can call me and we can talk about it. I am imperfect as a woman, wife, friend, and mother, but I try very hard, and one thing that I can do well is listen. We can talk about the weather, or what we're making for dinner, or what makes us want to make our husbands sleep in the back yard while we quietly change the locks. Whatever you want. Because I have rain in my life, too, and you do chase all the rain away.

Not even kidding.

DSC_0057.jpg
Originally uploaded by cuttingroomfloor

This week has been really, awfully, terribly long, filled with thinking, re-thinking, fearing, raging, planning, calculating, researching, puking, bleeding, drinking, and then fearing and thinking and planning some more.

In other words, you have not wanted to be around me this week. Someone send Jason and Kristi a medal- they spent a lot of time with me this week.

I'm looking back on pictures from our show and trying to relive the happiness, the carefreeness, the feeling that things are good and will continue to get better.

This picture has most of my most favorite girls in it. DON'T EVEN GET PISSED OF IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE PICTURE AND WANT TO BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE GIRLS. I have others. These are must most of 'em.

Screaming toddlers, leaking pipes, and a bag full o' tampons.

Tonight I'm feeling slightly melancholy, and I'm thinking that perhaps it's because of the, I don't know, MONTH-AND-A-HALF LONG Advil and Tampax binge I've been on.

I truly hope that none of the few boys who read this blog (Hey, Jason! Hey, Jason! Hey, Thom! ROBERT, are you reading this?) are horrified that I write this stuff, that I sneak it in too quickly for them to look away and think about baseball, or comic books, or girls who aren't currently menstruating. Or girls who aren't menstruating who play baseball and read comic books- THAT WOULD BE SO HOT.

Today I worked eight hours with an ace bandage strapped tightly around my ribs and, I have to tell you, it helped. Then Jason told me that the plumbing is not fixed, and I had to grip down onto the steering wheel tightly, tightly enough to stop my body from spontaneously throwing itself out of the window of my car whilst in motion.

I must say I feel like what I'm doing isn't so much circling the drain as persevering. There is a difference- that moment where I manage not to throw myself out the window of a moving car that I am driving? That's the difference.

P.S. I talked to someone tonight who I haven't talked to in quite a while, who I love very much. At one point, I had to tell him to hang on, and he got the immense pleasure of listening to me fighting a bag of peanuts out of Reed's hands. He said, "Dude, is he talking now?" I was like, "Yuh-huh!" He then said his significant other has baby fever, and I was like, "Well, just let me lock her in a room with Reed for about 48 hours. And I'll go drink."