Some new reading..

I've mentioned plenty of times before that I read Dooce.

I've found a couple of new blogs that I enjoy. One is Whoopee! Absolutely hilarious. Makes me want to be British.

Then there is Fuck You, Penguin, which Jason can't stop talking about. He literally spent twenty minutes trying to find it last night and, when I finally found it for him, he collapsed into giggles for the next twenty minutes on the couch.

2008.

I'm pretty sure some crazy stuff is about to blow up around me and Jason pretty soon. It's all a crazy mess, the result of mistakes we've made recently concerning Kane and Jude. I'll have a lot, A LOT more to say on this in the next few weeks if things calm down that quickly.

As the year rambles to a close I am left thinking about what an awful period of my life this has been, how awful it's been for me and how awful I, in turn, have made it for everybody around me.

I am so lucky to be surrounded by people who empathise, sympathise, keep caring, persevere, who understand that a lot of this is bigger than me, bigger than my heart can take, bigger than my TEENY, TINY BRAIN can comprehend. I need a lot of help sometimes, and thank jeez there are people around me who want to give it to me. I don't know where I would be now if it weren't for you guys. I would NOT be at work in a good job, listening to Elvis Costello, thinking how we will make it through this. I would probably be one of those people who is always, ALWAYS over on the far side of the bar at the Plaza, drinking and not talking or making eye contact with anyone, only thinking quietly about the shambles his life has become.

Lucky for you guys I'm still sending texts and emails and making phone calls about OH GOD THE DEPRAVITY and FUCK ALL BOLLOCKS CRAZY PEOPLE and OH HOLY SHIT I'M GOING TO DIE, I'M GOING TO DIE RIGHT NOW, BUT NOT BEFORE I HAVE ONE MORE NATURAL LIGHT WITH YOU RIGHT NOW BE THERE IN A MINUTE.

Y'all are so damn lucky I'm around, because your life would probably be so boring without me in it.

Seriously, though, every year I sort of momentarily consider New Year's resolutions and I usually move on without making any because, SHIT, this life is so unpredictable and bizarre I just never feel like I can live up to resolutions. This year, I have considered it carefully and I think I want to resolve to be more fierce, more steadfast, more calm, steady, sure. I have this tendency to be super paranoid, to start thinking weird things are going on or to second-guess decisions, and looking back on this year makes me realize that I am frequently right or at least not totally off. I resolve to listen to myself a little more closely, to stop being so hard on myself, to stop telling myself that I'm wrong, stupid, crazy, so automatically. I resolve to remember that I can make it through anything. I resolve to listen to my instincts and to feel less like I need to bend against my gut reactions.

I resolve to stand up for myself loudly, clearly, make myself heard if anyone fucks with me, my marriage, my family the way some people have this year. I will not take any more of this quietly, will not walk away without PUNCHING SOME BITCH IN THE FACE, at least metaphorically. Maybe what I could do, you know, to help the economy, is pay a homeless guy to punch you in the face and I'll stand by with my Martin guitar and play More Than Nothing by the Vindictives. WHATEVER. I do not care what this says about me, I do not care what impression this gives, just know that you got off easy this time and it will not happen again.

Tired of hearing about it? No you're not. Shut up.

Those of you who take such good care of me, who worry about me and help so much, you all sort of mesh together and form a nice soft place for me to fall, and I love you for it. Y'all all come over here and sit on mama's lap and I'll pour you a bourbon and sing Crimson and Clover quietly in your ear. You know who you are. Thank you.

A day in the life of Buffy's iPod.

I figured Doolittle would be a perfectly good album to start off the morning with. Nothing says "Christmas! Baby Jesus!" like "Whores at the door, whore in my bed."

Then onto my own mix of David Bowie, both oldies and newsies. Starman is my groove right now: it makes me feel resplendent.

Then I listened to Maggie May by Rod Stewart. That one makes me feel kind of kicky in a I-KNOW-WHAT-IT-IS-TO-BE-WRONGED-BUT-FUCK-ALL-I'M-ALIVE kind of way. "Maggie, I wish I'd never seen your face."

I went for Saves the Day, Stay What You Are, in the spirit of rememberance and nostalgia. I associate a lot of these songs with several different people, Josh and Stephanie and Adam, mostly; also with my old apartment, a tiny little efficiency that, if intense memories took up space, would never even begin to hold even a tenth of what I associate with it, love and fights and beginnings and endings and hangovers and sleep and music and screaming and laughing and gathering and drinking and eating, saying hello and saying goodbye. "Well here I am, don't know how to say this. Only thing I know is awkward silence. Your eyelids close when you're around me to shut me out."

Then I suddenly wanted Toadies, Hell Below/Stars Above- sexy, sexy music that makes me think about sexin' up my husband. Nothing like some hard and fast guitar and a little bit of screaming. "Swimming in pride, my sweet thing. It's such a pretty night for losing our innocence, our tenderness. It's all been kissed away, and now you know you're a free soul, and you can't fight that little sin." Also, "Chase the stars as they fall down and light up where you are; they are yours for the keeping. Trace the curves of the sheets, a riddle of desire when I watch you sleeping."

Then I listened to Wallflower Girl by Better Than Ezra. I really like this band although I don't listen to them very often. The band makes me think of my old friend Nicki; we used to sing their songs and laugh. I don't see her any more and I don't know where she is. This song, though, makes me think of being 18 or 19, not because I was a wallflower girl, but because I loved LOVED this song. That's about the time that I found my singing voice, found my inner musician, found myself, the self that I am now. "Well you used to read the tarrot cards but you don't like what you find. Well I suppose we both know your future anyway." I listened to it twice.

I have a short day at work today, so I've decided to close out the day with Erotic City by George Clinton. It makes me feel like dancin'. Nothing like the F word on a religious holiday. I'm going to dance my way out of here in a minute. Y'all have a merry Christmas.

I'm okay for the moment. I've had some very serious distraction in the past few days.

I've locked my blog so that only invited readers can see it. I hope to eventually change it back to being public, because I don't like the idear of have to hide my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, no matter what they are.

Posting will be light for a while until we get a few things worked out. Really I have too much that I want to say, and I'd rather say nothing at all than to be all, "Well, it's sunny today. I bought some lemons." while I'm screaming in my head about everything that's happening.

We're all okay, and I'm hoping that some things are about to get better and work themselves out that will make us even more okay. I'll tell you about it eventually.

I love you guys.

Fun with a capital FECKIT.

I have extended my Etsy buy one, get one sale through today, so check it out.

Jason has been driving all over the world, driving his head off, since his car broke down yesterday. He has to take me to work and take Reed to school AND pick me up and pick Reed up, besides the forty errands I already had listed for him to accomplish, besides the forty new errands that have now come up on account of his car breaking down.

This morning he bought an 18-pound fresh NOT FROZEN turkey that tomorrow I will prepare with my mom whilst entertaining a three-year-old, THE three-year-old, the person who talks the most in my life and who needs contstant reassurance that YES WE WILL DO THAT, YES WE WILL BUY ONE, YES YOU WILL GO THERE, NO IT'S NOT BEDTIME.

This week has been FUN with a capital FUCKALL, and I am looking forward to eating 18 pounds of turkey and drinking one beer for each pound tomorrow night.

Also, as I am in a "I NEED MONEY LIKE NOW", also known as "LETS BUY JASON AN ALTERNATOR", kind of mood today, I'm having a special sale for today only on my Etsy.

Just for today everything on my Etsy is buy-one-get-one! If you buy something today you can choose an additional item of equal or lesser value for free! All you have to do is purchase something at regular price (i.e., the other current sale of 15% off won't apply to this purchase), and then convo me what additional item (of equal or lesser value) you'd like for free!

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so y'all take advantage! Today only!

My dad bought a new fake Christmas tree this year, so he gave us his old one, and last night Reed helped to decorate his first Christmas tree. I'm pretty sure we had a real one at Reed's first Christmas, but he was so young he didn't know anything about it (he was about three weeks old). The last couple of Christmases we haven't had a tree at all.

He had a great time, and used his huge soup ladel to pass ornaments to Jason and me as we hung them on the tree.

This weekend we're having a Christmas potluck dinner at our house and I'm really looking forward to it. I'll be cooking my very first turkey ever. Luckily my mom will be helping me, so it shouldn't be too disastrous.

I'm having a sale on Etsy , so if you've ever thought about buying something but haven't gotten around to it, now is the time. I've been selling some things lately, so I figured a Christmas sale might really get things going.

Three years.

Reed,

You have been on this earth now for three years, and you still can't make mama some bean nachos. If it weren't for the way you smile at me when I peer over your crib at you in the mornings I would sell you to the gypsies.

I hope that one day you will either have forgotten or be able to forgive me for the way that I am sometimes, for my absence from your life when I am hiding under the covers crying, for my obsession with laundry and house-cleaning, for my occasional inability to unwind.

And for drinking all the bourbon. I'm sorry I can't share the bourbon.

Reed, you continue to amaze me at every turn. You can count to fifty (although your fifty has several fourty sevens), you can count to ten in Spanish, you can spell your name (you spell it with three e's, but hey, that's how you say it), you poop in the potty (most of the time), and color inside the lines (when you feel like it). You are so smart. You got that from me, not your daddy. But you got your devestating good looks from your daddy, so I figure he wins.

You eat raw oatmeal and raw pasta. That's all I know to say about that.

This year you and Jude have entered into a battle to the death over who can keep daddy's attention the longest, who can take steal more of the other's toys, and who can make me hit myself in the face with a frying pan the most times. YOU'RE BOTH WINNING, and I now look like my mother carried me on a papoose board facing the wrong way for several years.

This year daddy has not only lost his mind, but also he's really not that interested in being married to me any more because he has decided that he wants to go to Burning Man. While reading up on it so that I could pretend that I considered it I ran across an article called "Surviving Burning Man With Your Kids". Reed, I either love you intensely or am a terrible mother because reading that list, just imagining having you out on the playa in all the dust and confusion made me hyperventilate, made my chest get tight, made me panic just a little bit. Why anyone would take their children to that event is beyond me, but if I was ever going to take you the only way I could handle it is if I put a leash on you. And daddy says that's cruel.

This year I've fallen further into my role as Turning Into My Mom and you have fallen further into your role as Turning Into Me, because I find myself suddenly bursting into operatic versions of Wiggles songs, Christmas songs, ANY songs, and you immediately throw yourself onto the floor and kick and writhe as you say, "NOOOOOOOOOO, STOOOOOOOOOOOP, MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMY!!!!!!" Thanks a lot, God, for simultaneously teaching me about irony, the joy of irritating my child, and how much I love my mother.

Reed, I can't wait to see more of the ways you will change, terrify, and teach me. Your ability to charm everyone around you, to assert yourself and be yourself and still be lovely and sweet (sometimes) is enviable to me. I love you more than I could ever describe, more than I could have ever imagined that I was able. If I can keep loving a person who tells me that they are going to kick me in the face, it must be real. I hope that I can live up to even half of my own expectations as your mother.

I also hope that one day you feel an intense urge to burst into "Walking In a Winter Wonderland" opera-style, and someone is there to writhe around on the floor when you do it. When that happens, I hope you think of me.

I love you,
Mama

Rearin' his ugly head.

Jeez, after all that nice stuff I wrote yesterday about my child, then last night was terrible. AWFUL. HE WAS AWFUL.

Besides "I'm going to punch you in the face!", besides "I'm going to kick you in the face!", besides "I'm going to kick your ass out!", he said "I'm going to spit on you!" and then he actually spit on Jason, a big, gooey strand of spit.

We are totally horrified at this point.

There are some things that Reed does that I know where they come from, that I know he got from Jason ("ass") or Kane and Jude (wrestling, playfully hitting, gleefully jumping on top of people) or me (the crazy, the attitude, THE CRAZY), but these are phrases and attitudes that he did not get at home.

We've questioned our choice of daycare before, but so far we've continued to send him and tried not to worry about it because it's very difficult to do anything else about it.

Now that I have a job we hope that our finances will get better, but right now they are in the shitter pretty badly, to the tune of about -$300, with the next payday about eight days away.

Reed is absolutely worth any amount of money, more than money, and I would do anything to keep him safe and sound. But I've said before when there's no money, there's no money.

There is a daycare right across the street from where I work now and I've called and they have a slot, but it would mean about $50 more a week, about $200 more a month. Can we do it? I don't know. I can spout off about Reed's importance all I want, but if we can't come up with the money to pay the daycare, they won't let him stay, and I'll have to stay home from work, and I'll eventually get fired.

That right there is called The Illustration of How My Brain Works.

So that's where we are right now- PANICKED. UNSURE. WORRIED. BEATEN DOWN.

And now I have to go home to a toddler who's going to spit on me and then kick my ass out. I can't get a break.

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.

And here is where I empty the contents of my brain onto the page:

I have been reflecting lately on my life, especially the past year or so, on mistakes and opportunities and luck and misfortune. These past eighteen or twenty months have been so hard, so excrutiating. So many bad things have happened over the past little while, both things that are my fault and things that are beyond my control. I am absolutely exhausted, tired of all of this, tired of life, and the only thing that keeps me going is the feeling like maybe we are over the proverbial hump, maybe things are about to get better.

I worry about Kane and Jude quite a bit, about their well-being, their grades, their ability to grow into functioning human beings. I went to drop off the child support check yesterday, and their step-dad kept narrowing his eyes at me and then looking at the check, narrowing his eyes and then looking at the check. Then light dawned on marble head and he laughed and said, "I didn't recognize you. Okay."

Their step-dad, who has been around for about five years and has been married to Kane and Jude's mom for a year-and-a-half and who has seen and spoken to me countless times, DIDN'T RECOGNIZE ME. I suppose maybe he was off his meds yesterday.

Kane and Jude are telling us that they might move to Montevallo, which is great because it's even further away, and we've already been assigned the task of doing all the driving, all the picking up and dropping off, and I am not feeling happy about it. Besides the driving, Kane and Jude are both doing well in school, making friends and good grades and enjoying themselves, and I'm wondering why they feel the need to jerk them up and send them yet another school. Those people move roughly once a year, and I'm not sure that that's healthy for the kids. I realize that plenty of people move around and the kids will survive, but I'm thinking if they're not moving for a job or the military or to be closer to their families, is it really necessary?

Jason and I have just celebrated our fifth anniversary, and I'm proud and grateful that we've made it. Marriage is hard when times are good; when times are tough it can be really very difficult to remember to work as a team, to think like a team. I'm sorry that I haven't always been a team player, Jason; I'm working on it. Happy anniversary. Thank you for being on my team.

Reed's godmother just got engaged to one of the sweetest boys I've ever known. The only advice that I would presume to offer you is to pray to God for patience and perseverence, both of you, because there are moments when those are the only things that will keep you from smacking each other in the head with a hammer. Also, hide the hammer from each other. That helps, too.

My job has really turned things around for me in at least a few ways. I mean, I suddenly find myself a salaried employee with a stable company that builds software. Here's to you, universe: you really know how to confuse the shit out of me. I was voted most tech-savvy on Facebook; I put that on my resume, and I'm sure that's why I got this job.

Lessons.

Ah, you learn something new every day.

For example, yesterday I learned that I am indeed capable of looking a teenaged girl in the face and calling her stupid.

I was leaving my mom's and there were a group of kids playing football in the street. As I started driving towards them they all shuffled out of the way.

Except for one girl. Who proceeded to turn and look at me, standing in the middle of my lane, and just calmly watch as I drove towards her.

I slowed and slowed until my car was about four feet away from her and I came to a complete stop. She stood there for a few more seconds, laughed, shrugged, and moved to the side. I pulled up beside her, rolled down my window, and said, "Are you trying to be cute?" She laughed again and said, "No." I replied, "Okay, because it's pretty STUPID to just stand in the middle of the street in traffic."

Suddenly she looked really embarrassed, which took me totally by surprise as I was expecting some kind of "Talk to the HAND, GRANDMA" comment.

Then, as we pulled away, Reed said, "What did you do to that girl?" And then I felt guilty.

You smell like a zoo!

I have Gift Guide showcase spots booked tomorrow and Wednesday for my Etsy; I'm hoping to get some action. Wish me luck.

I've been drinking these Fizz Its in hopes that it will encourage my body to get rid of this lung plague. THEY ARE WEIRD.

Today is Jason's birthday- yep, he's still old- so everybody wish him a happy one! Jason, I love you even if you're getting rickety.

This week is Jason's birthday, Thanksgiving, and our anniversary, so we have a lot going on. We're doing it up right with a party in celebration this Saturday. I'm pretty sure we'll be exhausted by then. But, hey, that just means we'll get drunk faster. Which means we can get in bed earlier.

Old, old, old.

Headache- check. Plague- check. Sheer panic- check.

You remember all my whining about "ob la di", about how something is ALWAYS happening?

When I got out out to my car last night, the battery was dead. THE BATTERY WAS DEAD, I TELL YOU. Jason came up and jumped me off, but it wouldn't hold a charge, so we had to borrow money to buy a new battery and get it in there and working asap so's we could both go to work today.

AND THEN, this morning, my NEW phone crashed. I spent my lunch hour speeding from one end of town to the other and back again for it to suddenly start working again while I was standing in the phone store, and for them to be like, "Well, let's just give it a couple of days. It might be fine now."

Then my boss is out sick today so I'm doing both our jobs AND IT'S SCARY. I'M SCARED.

This all gives a whole new meaning to that line in Almost Famous, "It's all happening!"

Sometimes it seems like things never stop happening, never slow down, never stay good for very long. Nothing catastrophic is happening, and I am thankful that we're all (relatively) healthy and happy and warm and dry and all that.

But sometimes I wish we could have a couple of weeks of calm, of placid waters, of little to no disturbance.

Reed and I both have walking pneumonia. When my doctor did a chest x-ray he said that it had "infiltrated" my lungs "severely". What that means is I feel like doody. He said it could take as long as four weeks for me to get well. FUCK THAT. I was like, "HAHA. I would like to be well this afternoon, please."

Luckily I have a job where I can sit at my desk and do my work quietly and drink hot chocolate. With only a tiny splash of bourbon. IT'S FOR MEDICAL PURPOSES, CALM DOWN.

You probably are aware that I've had some phone issues and then I bought a new phone last weekend. Well, my new phone "crashed". LUCK, PEOPLE. IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY, GO BUY SOME AT TARGET.

Of course I've already spoken with my carrier and I can exchange the phone for one that works, it's just the damn principle, the CIRCUMSTANCIAL BULLSHIT that brings these kinds of things about. It took me a long time to re-enter everyone's phone numbers into this phone, to set up all my accounts and get everything aligned correctly. Now I have to start over, and I'm whining about it.

Anyway, ob la di and all that. More later from my contagious, infected self. If you're coming to my house, bring a mask and some Clorox wipes.

Breaking news from ET Online.

From this article:

Sources tell ET that last Thursday, Cloris was in the car with her son George, heading home from the 15th Annual Lint Roller Party for animals that they had attended. She turned to him and said she wasn't feeling very well. Cloris, who is 82, had recently been had a cold and had been having trouble breathing, so he took her to the hospital, and they went to the emergency room.

Okay, first, the 15th Annual Lint Roller Party? Somebody explain this to me. I know I could Google it, but this is more fun.

Second, she had recently been had a cold? Do these sites really have no copy editors, or grammar checkers, or PEOPLE WHO KNOW THE ENGLISH?

I brought my iPod to work today, along with some earbuds.

Today's playlist, in the order listened:

Ben Folds, Rockin' the Suburbs
Favorites: Annie Waits, Gone

Weezer, Pinkerton
Favorites: Good Life, Tired of Sex, Butterfly

Vandals, Hitler Bad, Vandals Good
Favorites: I know, huh?, Money's Not An Issue, I've Got An Ape Drape

Strokes, Is This It
Favorites: Someday, Alone Together

Spoon, Mix CD
Favorites: I Turn My Camera On, I Summon You, Was It You?

Rufus Wainwright, Poses
Favorites: Greek Song, California, Grey Gardens

Pixies, Doolittle
Favorites: Here Comes Your Man (I can't help myself), Mr. Grieves, Hey

So if last night's post made no sense to you, that's probably fine. Basically I had to argue with a collector about how much I could afford to start paying on a debt and she kept throwing all these different numbers at me even AFTER I had agreed to start making payments at a certain amount until I started getting really dizzy and had to pass Jason the phone. All this was the result of the fact that the screen on my old cellphone stopped working which led me to answer the phone when a collector called, GAH I would never answer the phone for a collector otherwise, you all know me better than that.

Now I have a new phone and can resume screening.

The best part of the collector debaucle was once I agreed to start making payments, she was like, "Okay, now you'll have to pay a $5 fee for each one of these electronic debits." I was like, "Um, can I just mail you checks for these payments?" She said, "Blahblahblahprettymuchno." So I was like, "Okay, I am NOT going to pay you to pay you." I realize that it's only five dollars, but there have been many times over the last several months when I would have sold Ida to a Chinese restaurent for five dollars because I needed the money so badly; I am not going to pay a collection agency five dollars so that I can pay off a debt that is TWICE what the actual debt used to be, with that extra 100% being fees and fines that will go to THAT DEBT COLLECTING INSTITUTION.

I don't know if I'm being clear; suffice it to say that when I said HELL NO I WON'T PAY YOUR $5, that's when the conversation started to decline and I started to have trouble seeing straight and understanding what she was saying.

So anyways, I saved a whole $20 on that one THANK THE GOOD LORD.

Next week I'm taking on the mortgage company, so just look out.

I now have a new phone, so feel free to call and text.

The screen on my old phone stopped woorking a few days ago which resulted in my bawling like a baby today after trying to deal with a bill collector for about twenty minutes. When I started to feel like I was going to pass out I handed my headset- the only way my phone was working- to Jason.

Then I went out and bought a phone.

On my life.

How many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?


Banana.

He named his pirate Captain America.

So we are only a few weeks away from Jason's birthday, our anniversary, and Reed's birthday. Oh, plus Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve. It's my busy season.

I'm feeling slightly more optimistic because at least I'll be able to buy people some presents, however small.

Reed is experiencing his last throws of toddlerhood, I can tell, because the fits have gotten few and far between but also about 782 times more intense, sudden, and unpredictable.

He actually threw himself onto the floor in Target, plenty of people looking on, because I "wouldn't" let him "pay" for his pirate ship. What ACTUALLY happened was he threw himself into the floor, I stood there cheerfully saying, "Now hop up so you can pay for your shippit!" and he screamed and writhed, totally ignoring me. (He was calling his pirate ship his "shippit". I don't know.) I looked at the cashier, smiled, and stepped over my child who was rolling on the floor of a public place, wiping his face on the floor because he knew that I'd have nightmares about it for weeks- he's a smart little dude, after all. Then my mom and I drug him out into the parking lot, forced him into the car, and sat and let him shriek and cry for about five minutes.

After a few minutes of that, he suddenly and without warning smiled, asked me politely to take his shippit out of the box, and after I handed it to him he giggled and played quietly with it until we got to Cracker Barrel.

This life is so bizarre, so crazy, that sometimes I totally skip writing about some of it because I know that it sounds made up.

Blahblahblahiphoneblahblah.

So I've been able to spend plenty of time updating my Amazon wishlist- my boss frequently deems it "break time", in which we wander about the internet. But all the stuff I do on the internet is blocked here, so I find myself looking at all the interesting stuff on Amazon. I've found a good flash drive, some nice presents for Reed, some rings I like, clothes, pants, etc. etc. ETC.

Have you ever heard of the Kindle? I want one. I've been doing an amazing amount of reading over the past few months, so I feel like I would actually get lots and lots of use out of it.

Of course, no one has to remind me how broke I am right now and therefore unable to buy food, much less a $359 wireless reading device, when I can check books out from the liberry for free.

Speaking of books, has anyone else been reading this Twilight series? I realize that I am, like, the LAST person to get on this train, but holy jeez, are they good. I finished Twilight in 24 hours, and then I finished New Moon in 48 hours. I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of the third book at the Leeds Library.

Also, my cell phone suddenly stopped working. This isn't a billing issue; something is actually wrong with my phone. I can send and recieve texts but not phone calls. Scratch that: I can make and recieve phone calls, but I can't hear whoever is on the other end. So Jason or my dad or whoever I'm calling knows I'm calling, but when they answer I can't hear them at all. I think it must be the mouthpiece/speaker/whatever it's called that's messed up.

This is a big deal to me since we no longer have a landline at our house. I realize that I can still call 911, but it still gives me the creeps to have no way of making phonecalls when I'm home or in the car without Jason. So y'all text me every now and then to make sure I'm alive, okay?

And also...

HALLOWEEN 08
Originally uploaded by jason agan

The best thing I've ever done.

Well, it's definitely been an interesting week. Between my job, the election, our money situation, and about a hundred other things, I'm beat. And kind of dizzy. And a little parched.

Oh man, am I tired today.

My job will be sending me to San Antonio before the year is out. This means I'll be flying for the very first time pretty soon. I told my boss, "You know I might get a little keyed up because I've never flown before." He said, "Well have you ever taken a klonopin before?"

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.

I got the job! I start on Monday. I am grateful and thankful. It's basically a desk job with a lot of benefits and paid holidays, so hopefully I'll love it.

My darling.

My darling.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

I managed to upload some more photos today, including some of the other wedding we photographed a few weekends ago.

Still waiting to hear about my background check at my possible new job. Keep crossing fingers.

Bulldoodle.

I tell you, things just continue to get crazier and crazier around here.

I haven't heard back from my job people yet; they said it would take five days to get the background check back and that was on Wednesday.

Jason's ex-wife is trying once again to squeeze some money out of us, and now she's trying to talk him into commiting tax fraud in order to get it. These people beat all, I have to say. She still seems to think that we should give her half of our stimulus check that we got this year, as well as child support for May, June, and July, and Jason can just "claim the kids on your taxes again this year" and pay what we "owe" out of it.

The reality is that our lawyer reassured us months ago that they aren't entitled to any of the stimulus money no matter how hard she tries to make it seem like she is. The kids lived with us in May, so even if we were supposed to be paying child support for some of the summer it wouldn't be for May. If a judge orders us to pay child support for June and July I will totally jump on board BUT I AM NOT DEALING WITH ANY OF THIS UNDER-THE-TABLE, JUST-BETWEEN-US BULLSHIT FROM TWO CRAZY PEOPLE WHO ARE UNPREDICTABLE, GREEDY, RUDE, AND SCHEMING.

As far as the tax stuff, she's been frauding social security for several years and she knows that if we end up in court that will come up, so I figure she's just trying to come up with a way to get Jason in trouble, too. SUCK IT, FOLKS. I've said it before, I'll say it again, and last week I said it to a 22-year-old dude who works at Citifinancial: You cannot squeeze blood from a turnip. If you haven't made the intellectual leap yet, what I'm saying is we currently have $45 in the bank and exactly one week before we'll be getting any more money.

We have no money. There is no money. You aren't getting any money.

We will continue paying child support just like we have been since August, the month that SHE chose for us to start paying child support again. But anything else will have to be settled by our lawyers and a judge in court.

Mark: comments?

So I have just this morning accepted a job offer. I hesitate to feel totally comfortable about it because now they're starting a background check which "may include a credit check". I've missed job opportunities before because I have terrible credit, whichs is mostly due to my losing my job at the college and then losing my last job at the flower shop.

There is so much drama in the world right now, and so much drama in my life. Besides the daily grind- being unemployed, begging for jobs, being in foreclosure, being in collection with most of our debts, having no money, etc.- there is a lot going on right now, enough that I have trouble keeping up with everything and everyone and how I'm supposed to handle all of it.

I don't get a lot of good rest these days. I'm usually thinking, worrying, calculating; my brain doesn't stop long enough to really be calm. Maybe soon. Maybe I'll get this job and we can all find a little peace.

Finally!

First dance.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

I was finally able to upload some stuff to my flickr today, courtesy of my mom and her ability to deal with my kid while I spend an hour at the computer.

Congratulations, Adam and Laura.

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.

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

I just got done with a job interview. I'm feeling pretty good about it. This is the third job interview I've had since I left my last job, the third job interview I've had in three-and-a-half months of being unemployed, of actively seeking employment. It's certainly the best interview I've had in a while; I felt competent and the fellows who interviewed me were enthusiastic. At one point my interviewer said, "So you're not currently employed. So I guess you could start.." I interrupted, "TOMORROW." They got a laugh out of it. Little do they know that I've been eating cans of black beans for months. At least I like black beans, so it's not that bad.

I sold two items on my Etsy this morning. GOOD THINGS ARE HAPPENING, PEOPLE. Today I'm looking up, for a change.

Coming soon: wedding photos, positivity, and good news, let's hope.

Once more with feeling.

I'm still here; still no internet at home.

I am currently sitting at a library computer at which my mother found a little plastic baggy. She held it up between thumb and forefinger and said, "Now I don't know what this is. For all I know it could have contained COCAINE."

I can just imagine some Leedsite sitting contentedly at this very computer, doing lines off the mousepad.

Jason and I have polished off two more weddings. I'm just awfully excited; they both went so well. I can't wait to update our portfolio. If you know anybody who needs a photographer for a wedding or portraits of their kids or pets or engagement photos or band photos, please pass our names along. We'll probaby be able to get some photos uploaded on Thursday.

I realize my posts have been a little off lately. I think of good stuff to write about when I'm sitting on my couch at home, not when I'm sitting in front of a library computer. Ah, well. Sucks to your asmar.

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.

Ah, a year's worth of posts.

This is my 365th post. If you start reading my blog today and read one entry per day it will take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, I'll keep posting, so it will actually take you longer, so it's actually meaningless.

Anyways, this post is coming from my Mama's house as our internet has finally disappeared. Phone and cable had been cut off long ago but the internet stayed; I assumed we were picking up someone else's wifi. Alas, no it's gone, so our internetting will be few and far between.

This week I am working on another article for Lipstick and continuing the job hunt.

Also, it appears that my check card has been stolen. I have no idea when it happened as we've had so little money I haven't even attempted to use it in about two weeks. Now it's suddenly not in my wallet.

I'm glad bad things rarely happen to us, so when bad things like this happen I can manage to be all, "Oh, well. It's not that bad. At least the rest of my life is going swimmingly."

I am consumed again with worry about the same thing I was worried about for most of the spring and summer: Kane and Jude.

A couple of experiences that were relayed to Jason by a family member have him panicking about sending them back to their mom's house; he's worried that he made the wrong decision, that Kane and Jude will be harmed somehow by that decision.

I feel sad that Jason is so worried, because I know exactly how he feels: I have often wondered and feared if it was a bad idea to send them back with their mom. She and her husband have a lot of problems, and I am only referring to the obvious, clear problems that we can see that they have. There is no telling what all is going on under the surface that we don't even have a clue about.

Now our lawyer is getting messages from their lawyer asking when we are going to "make arrangements" to pay child support. It isn't clear if he is referring to current child support or backed child support. If it's current, we've been paying it, and either their lawyer doesn't know what he's doing or they are lying to him and telling him we haven't been paying. If it's backed child support, I can't believe anyone is still discussing it. While I am begging for a job, any job, and praying for unemployment, they are driving to Texas to buy SUPER-FANCY ULTRA-LIGHTWEIGHT JEEP DOORS, for Pete's sakes. DRIVING TO TEXAS IN A GAS-GUZZLING JEEP for new doors, for fuck's sakes. I can't get over it, so just don't expect it.

Anyway, this life just keeps getting scarier and more bizarre every day, and I don't see any signs of it returning to normalcy. Lindsey and I often joke that this, this right here, this is just our lives now, and we should just get used to it.

I just don't know. I am still seeking employment to absolutely no end whatsoever, while the kids' mom and step-dad don't have to work, will never have to work, on account of they're too crazy to. Yet they feel like this makes them better candidates to raise the kids because they can "devote 24 hours a day to the children".

It's all a mess, and it's making me feel ill. Maybe I need to seek lessons on making the government think I'm too crazy to work. At least I know where to look for them.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

We took Reed to the zoo for the very first time yesterday. He REALLY loved it. We only got around to about half of the zoo; he is a little person with short legs, plus it was hot we were sweaty, so after about two hours he asked if we could go home.

I have come down with the plague, complete with sinus headaches, chest pain, and mouth-breathing.

These past few days I've spent a lot of time with a couple of girls who I don't see very often. I'm sorry for the circumstances, but thankful for the closeness. It has been really nice.

I watched the presidential debate last Friday with friends, and we all raised our eyebrows or chuckled or pishawed at the same parts. I particularly enjoyed how McCain's eyes bug out when he gets pissed off. This Thursday we're watching the V.P. debate with the same folks, and I'm excited about it.

Still no job-offers. FOR THE LOVE OF SHIT. I did, however, get to visit wonderful Bug Tussel, Alabama today. I want to move there.

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.

Mining for gold.

Poor Reedy. I'm afraid that he might have walking pnemonia, but I'm not sure. I'm thinking I'll pick him up from school early today and let the doctor check him out.

We had a fun trip to the emergency room with him last Friday night: he grabbed my flat iron when it was blazing hot. He REALLY freaked out for about an hour; about the time we got up to the burn unit at Children's Hospital he calmed down. He was such a grown-up, showing his hand to the doctors and nurses. They were all wowed by how calm, sweet, and cute he is. Now all that's left is a couple of watery blisters, and they're almost gone.

We took Reed with us to Kane's open house at his new school not long ago. I never ceases to amaze me how impressive he will suddenly be in situations like that. At home we're still having writhing fits and screaming fits and crying fits. Then he goes out into public and sits still and smiles and acts right. The best part was during one of the teacher's talk about her class and her expectations, Reed suddenly wanted to get up, go stand directly in front of Kane's mom and stare at her while smiling intensely and picking his nose. He had that finger about 3/4 of the way up his nostril, grinning like a pig in shit and going to town. It made me happy.

One must remember to take pleasure in the little things, musn't one?

Don't hate the player- hate the game.

I'm not really sure how to respond to this comment; it's really all over the place.

First, I'm sure that A and B are connected. Most feelings, opinions, and ideas people have are interconnected.

Second, I wasn't raised to think that "evil controls the world" and I was CERTAINLY not raised to think that I am powerless. I was raised to understand that just because someone is the president, or a senator or governor, or a politician in general doesn't mean that they are a good person, or a smart person, or that they have people's best interests at heart. For a lot of people that is a no-brainer, but let's be honest: there are people who don't realize that.

Third, my feelings of depression, anger, helplessness and doom grew out of a nasty case of post-partum depression. They may be deep-seated, but they don't stem from the way I was raised. I wouldn't say that I have ever been perfect, but I can say with total certainty that until after I had a baby I had never felt totally hopeless, never felt like my life might never change, never felt that I might feel this awful forever and that it might effect my family, my relationships, my ability to cope.

Fourth, I think I heap a generous helping of blame on myself as well as other things that I can control. Besides those two crabby dudes that hang out in the balcony on the Muppets, no one lives inside my head and therefore most people aren't aware of all the many things I blame on myself, and all the effort, the sheer infinity of mantras and prayers and notes that I make to remind myself to fix mistakes and stay on track and make things better for my family, my friends, and myself. And I guess all I can say is that it's working okay. I'm not great, but I'm not dead, and that's a good thing.

Thanks for your questions.

How's anonymous internet-hating working for you?

Schmeitgeist.

Oh, Lordy.

I know that I start a lot of posts that way these days, but I seriously go about my day thinking that phrase, shaking my head, and taking deep breaths.

I finally watched Zeitgeist with Jason today.

Let me just say that he's been talking/raving/freaking out about this movie for a couple of months now. I refused to watch it for this long for a couple of reasons:

A) I have always hated the government, resented it, understood how duped we all are. I don't know everything and there was certainly a lot of stuff in this film that I didn't know, but at the basis of all my thoughts and curiosities has been that the government=bad. I was raised by MY MOTHER, for shit's sakes; if you know me, you know what that means.

B) I've been having a rough time with depression, anger, and hopelessness over the last few months. Now is not the time for a movie that shows me every way in which I am stupid, every way in which I am doomed, every way in which all the bad things that happen to and in this country are the fault of THIS COUNTRY, or at least the the fault of the powerful few at the top of this country.

I didn't really have much to say after it was over. I was just kind of, "Yep. That's what I thought- that I would want to crawl under the bed after I watched it."

If anyone else wants to feel the need to crawl under the bed, you really should watch it. Also I'm absolutely aware that one musn't believe everything one hears/reads/sees on the internet. Let's just say that a lot of this hit awfully close to ideas that I've had before. It's all just a little overwhelming.

In other news I just want to say that someone I love very much found out that he has Crohn's disease. I just wanted to say that I'm thinking about you and I know everything will be okay.

Chapel day.

Chapel day.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

Today was Chapel Day at Reed's school, and my baby wore a tie for the first time.

Of course I'll be borrowing it soon- I can wear it with my white tank top and my Doc Martens. I just need to get some black nail polish.

I can't imagine.

Oh, Lordy. Communicating with the folks at the unemployment office is like being from Alabama and trying to communicate with that little guy who calls me from India about my Mastercard bill: difficult, to avoid using any expletives. So I'm still waiting to find out if I'm going to get any money for not having a job. Shouldn't one get paid for not working? I should think so. At least then I can get our cable cut back on, therefore providing myself with something to do with all this free time.

As it is I am washing, washing, washing clothes and sheets and socks and towels and the cat and my armpits and the dishes and my car and the bills and anything else that repulses me.

Kane and Jude stayed with us this weekend and they are just as smart-assed as usual. So at least their mom and step-dad haven't managed to FUCK that up yet.

In other news, my kid is an even bigger smart-ass than his brothers. It's like God said, "Okay, let's, just for fun, take all the smart-ass Kane and Jude got, and all the smart-ass Jason and Buffy got, and smush it together, give it blonde hair and a fucking cute smile and see what happens."

What happens is I almost die, every day, either from the cute overload that occurs in my house every single day or from the gouging of my eyes with screwdrivers after Reed gleefully shouts "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

And, really, where the FUCK is he getting all this awful language?

This is a great idea. If I ever again have money, I might order one of these. Or I bet my mom or Jason could do it.

And here is something to make you laugh today. Thanks, Lindsey.

Card shark or card sharp?

So when I cleaned out the boys' room last week I found something interesting:



Have you ever wished that you had some metal playing cards with sharp, knife-like edges all around?



Have you ever wished that you could find something really inappropriate to give your children?



Have you ever felt like you didn't have enough ways to end up with your kid in the emergency room?



Do you need a nice visit from DHR? You should contact Kane and Jude's mom and step-dad. They've got ideas.

Two is just as sad as one; it's the loneliest number since the number one.

Yesterday was the second birthday of this blog.

This has been a really good year, where "good" equals "didn't kill myself", "learned how to ignore murderous impulses", "tuned out the writhing fits", or "drank during the day".

I really have learned a lot about myself; unfortunately a lot of the avenues that got me to that knowledge involve things I don't like to write about here. You know how I very rarely write about my marriage except to make jokes about how Jason must be high to be able to deal with me? That's because I love my marriage, love my husband, and Jason does not want to read on the internet about how his snoring makes me want to shove all his dirty socks up his nose. So I don't write about it.



Suffice it to say that my marriage has survived- it is just like life, or raising kids, or going to work, or doing heroine. It can be excruciating, but that doesn't mean you'd be better off without it.

Reed is a little boy.



His school has just started requiring all the students except infants to wear uniforms. He wore his new "golf-ball shirt" (a golf shirt) to school with khaki shorts for the first time this morning, and Jason said he was very grown-up, very serious about his shirt, walked by himself to the door and kept smoothing the shirt and picking off lint balls. He'll be three in three months. I can't even comprehend it.

This past year has been a really hard one in the Jason's Ex-Wife arena. She decided that the kids should move back in with her and her husband whom she met in the psych ward. Then she decided that the kids need their father and therefore ought to stay with us. Then she decided that we should go back the original divorce agreement. Then she decided that we ought to pay her backed child support for the three years that the kids were living with us. Then she decided that she wouldn't be providing any transport for her kids any more; if we want to see them we must pick them up from her apartment and then drop them off at her apartment. Then she informed us that we were not to contact her ever and if we had questions or concerns we would call her husband. Then "someone" left some bizarre comments on my blog posing as Mark Dutton, an attorney. Then she dropped it and decided that we don't have to pay backed child support. Then she started contacting us again even though she expressly said that she would not be in contact with us any further.

Confused? TAKE A NUMBER, BUDDY.

Jason and I have given in to the Evil Lord Wal-Mart- we sincerely refused to shop there for the longest time, but my most recent bought with unemployment has reduced us to shopping there. It is three minutes up the road and everything is slightly cheaper than my one true love, Target.

That's another thing that's happened in the past year: I lost my job. AGAIN. I didn't write much about it because it is at once humiliating, terrifying, hilarious, sad. There's really not that much to it. I dealt with a lady throwing boxes at me and screaming the f-word for a year and a half, and I dealt with her Event Coordinator asking me how big my husband's penis is, and then she fired me for staying home with my kid when he was sick. The world is a balanced place, eh?

I've been writing and getting published in Lipstick Magazine, which is fabulous. I've also been making a lot of jewelry that I'm really proud of.



My good friend John moved back from New Orleans.



I have a couple of projects in the works, including a redesign of this blog. We've worked on it some, but then we found some booze so the blog is on the back-burner for a minute. I've been talking with Jason and some friends about starting a magazine, as well as something exciting involving being drunk and making videos.

More on that later. Aren't you excited?

Spring cleaning, delayed.

I gave myself the task of totally cleaning out Kane and Jude's room yesterday. It was my "I don't have a job, I don't have shit to do, what of it?" assigment.



They cleaned it before they left last time, and they "made" their beds which really just means they piled all the sheets and covers on top of the beds. The picture above is what it looked like after I changed the sheets, MADE the beds, and swept everything out from underneath them. I can't express to you what a mess it was- popsicle wrappers, cracker wrappers, pretzels, q-tips, dirty socks, clean shirts. And in their drawers and closets every kind of clothing was shoved into every kind of place. I am a square: I think that socks and underwear belong with other socks and underwear, jeans hang in the closet, marbles and Yu Gi Oh cards don't go with your t-shirts. Square.



I spent four hours yesterday cleaning and organizing their room. I threw away five full garbage bags full of shit, and donated one garbage bag full of clothes to Goodwill.



Afterwards I felt cleansed.



They still have toys, but they are where they belong. They have a much larger collection of books than I thought. They each have about 500 pairs of socks and underwear. There are actual empty shelves. I got rid of so much garbage that there are shelves with nothing on them.



I spent a long time just hanging out in their room yesterday, because it is now the cleanest room in the house. I think I might just move in to their room.



I have overhauled their room and Reed's room. Next is ours.

I have arrived.

This week I am just trying to stay calm as our situation gets worse and worse. I am still applying for jobs, still following leads, still "knocking on doors." THANKS, DAD.

I applied for unemployment last week. It took me two months and about 45 impotent job applications to get to this point. Hello, point. I'm here.

Old habits.

Bush Blvd Banksy 2
Originally uploaded by Dystopos

From what I understand, Banksy came through Birmingham a couple of nights ago and stopped long enough to leave this little ditty on the wall of an abandoned gas station in West End.

It's interesting because I immediately felt sort of embarrassed that this, a Ku Klux Klan member hung from a noose, is what comes to mind when passing through Birmingham for this gentleman. (I ran across this during my research- disturbing).

I was talking to Jason and I said, "Isn't he a little shit for automatically thinking that this is relevant in Birmingham in 2008?" I mean, I'm aware that racism still exists. I'm also aware that Banksy's artwork is a sort of cultural commentary, doesn't mean that the KKK is alive and thriving in Birmingham, doesn't even mean that he thinks the KKK is alive and thriving in Birmingham.

I also found several message boards with people pondering the same things I was, some more adamantly than others:

"Too bad Bansky didn’t leave some art that doesn’t hearken back to the Civil Rights movement; this is a pretty hackneyed theme in Birmingham these days, really, particularly from outsiders. I trust the lot of us have moved on, artistically speaking."

"Perhaps I’m not the intended audience, being a native of Birmingham born well after the Klan was beaten back into the shadows. I’m pretty sure I don’t understand the relevance of the piece. I do know that the black man who came over ask me about it while I was looking at the work didn’t appreciate it at all."

"There was no notion that banksy was saying the klan was "alive and well in birmingham" just the opposite if you look at the piece. He was making a historic and social comment on the south and the U.S. as a whole."

Interestingness. From what I'm reading, it's already been painted over. Such a disappointment.

My thanks to Dystopos for hopefully allowing me to use his photo on my blog. His was certainly the best photo I could find of the piece.

I haven't been sleeping well anyways.

Reed has learned how to climb out of his crib.

I cannot make a big enough deal about this, can't get across what a huge change this will mean for us. I'm pretty sure that he forgot almost as soon as he learned, but that means that we are that much closer to turning his bed into a big-boy-bed, that much closer to The End of Sleeping at Night for Mom. Like, POOF!- Now I lay awake at night listening for any noises that indicate that my child has padded into the bathroom and is drowning in the toilet. Or has wandered into the kitchen and is sticking his soft little hand down into the blender while pressing the "frappe" button. Or has gotten into mama's gin. MY GIN, REED. MY GIN.

Today I did something fun.

I donated a whole lot of hair to Locks of Love.



Here I am before I left this morning (with wet hair):



And here I am now (after much sweating and kid-wrangling):



Tomorrow I will style it and take more pictures.

I love the taste of phlegm in the morning.

This week I have a bronchial infection and it is very seriously sucking my will to live. Last night I coughed until I threw up. Yay, right?

The problem is that the only thing that makes me feel better is that perfect combination of Benadryl and cough syrup, which renders me nearly unconscious. I took it yesterday and felt much better, until I forced myself out of bed at 2:30 in the afternoon. This morning I'm thinking, "Okay, do I want to take the medicine and feel better and sleep all day long, or do I want to not take the medicine and feel awful but be able to be productive?" And then I'm like, "Who am I kidding? I've never been interested in being productive. I think I'll throw in a martini on top of the meds to give them that extra oomph."

So now I'm waiting for sweet, sweet unconsciousness and thinking about our money situation. It is bad, folks. There are a couple of things that may get cut off this week, plus we have to pay the child support, and we have about $250 in the bank.

I'm really trying hard to find something, anything, to bring some money into the house. I was really hopeful about this one job at Whole Foods, but they're hiring from the inside so no luck there.

It's really indescribably discouraging, this way that things are. I send out resumes all the time with cover letters explaining why I would be a perfect receptionist/office manager/executive assistant/copy editor/data entry person/ANYTHING THAT WOULD PAY ME; I am getting no phone calls.

For now I will just try to be thankful that at least I have the Benadryl.

When I first realized that I was really sick, Jason says to me, "Hey, look on the bright side: at least you don't have to call in." Small blessings.

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

Pot liquor.

Painting my toenails, doing laundry, wiping Reed's diarrhea-rear: these are the days of our lives.

Reed and I have some tiny virus that includes fever, tummy grossness, and general grumpiness, but I think it might be gone by tomorrow.

Our finances have finally reached a really awful, emergency point in which we can't afford to buy... well, anything.

Kane and Jude were here for the weekend and they both seem to be enjoying their new school. I just sincerely hope this has all been worth it, their moving back to their mom's house. I think it's probably best for them to be stable somewhere, to not change schools any more, so I hope everyone can just calm down and live life for a while.

Their mom and step-dad still inspire me to pluck the eyeballs out of my head: they send rude text messages, refuse to talk to us or make eye-contact (should they actually meet us face to face)- pretty much the usual. C'est la vie.

Jude started a Flickr if you're ever interested in the photographic talent of an intense nine-year-old.

Finally, I've been making some neat things for my Etsy lately. This one's called Mary Ramey, after my grandmother:

"Don't think the sun's comin' out today; it's staying in. It's gonna find a better way."

I think we really have to be out of our house in the next couple of weeks. This whole time I've been telling myself it's not that big of a deal, at least we're all healthy (if we don't count my being an absolute crazy person), at least we're surviving, etc.

I'm suddenly realizing how sad it is. We've lived here for three years now. It's the first house Reed ever lived in, the house we brought him home to. It's the house that Kane and Jude moved into with us. It's the first house that Jason and I moved into together. It's the first yard we've ever shared, the first yard that we watched Reed play in, the first porch we've ever had to spend time with our friends on.

In this house I've watched Reed grow from a teeny baby to a little boy. It is at once terrifying and beautiful and gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring, watching this person grow and learn and change, remembering that I grew him inside me and he was once a tadpole and now he runs and plays and laughs. In this house he learned to make jokes and share with his brothers (sometimes) and pick himself up after he falls.

In this house I have watched Kane grow into an adolescent, turn from a kid who watches cartoons into a near-teenager who... watches cartoons- just different cartoons. He's growing into a young man who likes to help me around the house and likes to watch his youngest brother and likes to help him learn and grow.

In this house I have watched Jude's continued evolution into a middle child, a kid who is too young to be a grown-up and too big to be a baby. He continues to amaze me with his ability to be a complete badass, to be like hanging out with one of my friends (Brock, I'm looking at you- argumentative, difficult, challenging, entirely too smart, physically dangerous).

In this house I've watched my marriage grow into something that I know with every particle of my being that I cannot live without. I've been reminded over and over again how much I need Jason, want him, respect him. I've felt myself continue to grow into a person who will never be at the center of her own universe again, to enjoy that separation from myself, to enjoy the people who have taken the place in the center. I've hoped and strived to fill the roles that I've made for myself here with these four other people. I've hoped and strived to be able to continue playing some part in the lives of the people who don't live here with me, the people who I count on to be there when I'm scared or lost, my extended family, my very best friends who I love so much.

And now we have to move and I'm just a little heart-broken about it. We'll make new memories one day in a new place and at least we have each other and thank goodness my mom is here for us and all that, but it's still hitting me kind of hard. I'm sure I'll get over it. It just takes a few hours to get myself back out of the center again.

Summer lovin'.

Summer is almost over around here in Alabama; usually we're still baking down here, but it has been uncharacteristically cool. Today has been grey, rainy, and dare I say chilly.

We are inching up on the two-year birthday of this blog, as well as my 365th post, which really just means that pretty soon if you start reading my blog you could read one post per day and it would take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, that will only last for one day; as soon as I make my 366th post it will take you 366 days to read it.

You can see how much time I have on my hands these days.

In other news, I have just finished cleaning a poop log out of the bath tub. This is why you have kids, folks: because without them, you don't get to clean up nearly enough poop. Unless you have Myrna Minkoff. She provides poop to clean up as well.

"buffy agan blog leeds"

So it's been a while, but I thought I'd mention that I called Mark A. Dutton on August 1st (in reference to all of this). It was a very interesting conversation: turns out that he wasn't leaving those comments. He was, shall we say, nonplussed. We had a long talk about my blog and who might want to leave such bizarre comments. Did you know that it is a CRIME to sling around legal advice when you aren't a lawyer? Did you know that what so-and-so did there- not only pretending to be a lawyer but pretending to be a PARTICULAR lawyer- could constitute identity theft, and certainly constitutes fraud?

Anyways, Mr. Dutton was very happy that I brought it all to his attention. I have no idea if he intends to do anything about it, but I know that he can if he wants to.

In similar news, HELLO IP NUMBER 68.185.251.116! How are you out there in Pelham, Alabama? How is Charter Communications treating you? Do you enjoy using Internet Explorer on your Windows Vista system? Did you catch Lindsey's comment after all those comments that you left as Mark A. Dutton, specifically:

Every modem is assigned a unique number by their ISP. Blogger, in their infinite wisdom and foresight, God bless 'em, automatically and without fail logs each and every IP address associated with every single comment left on this or any other Blogger/Blogspot blog. Utilizing your IP address, which is freely provided to the blog owner by Blogger, the public at large is able to utilize the common knowledge reverse IP look up process in order to pinpoint just who, exactly, is leaving these comments, right down to something as minuscule and specific as their area code.

THE INTERNET IS NOT AN ANONYMOUS PLACE, PEOPLE. People seem to think they can do anything they want, such as impersonating a lawyer, and no one will ever know. People can see when you look at their web pages like you did this morning at 8:31 am right after you got the kids off to school, like you did at 10:03 pm last night right after you got the kids to bed. Does your wife know what you've been doing, or are y'all in on this together? Because you know, should we ever end up in court, this is like a freakin' GOLD MINE for our case.

To the rest of you, I love you guys and thank you for putting with up with all this crap. CRAP ON A BLOG. That's new, right?

To Pelham, enjoy searching "buffy agan blog leeds" and "buffy jason agan blog leeds" on Yahoo Search over and over again. Thank you so much for your support.

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.

"Never had a care, just a livin' for the minute."

Yesterday I watched a Lifetime movie called Julie Johnson, starring Courtney Love and Lili Taylor. Lili Taylor is stupid and then she yearns and then she's gay and then she's smart and then she's lonely and then she's smart some more. AND ALSO THERE'S COURTNEY LOVE. Being gay with Lili Taylor. At one point I yelled, "They're making out!" and Jason trotted in from the other room just to take a gander.

Today I caught myself driving down the road singing "Way Down Yonder on the Chattahoochee". Singing along and knowing all the words made me, A) wish I was down on the river on a Friday night (self, I know thee not) and, B) remember fondly my teenage years. Not that I was down on the river on Friday nights then, but I knew that song then.

People, I cannot stress this enough: I NEED A JOB. To top it all off, I think this video is hilarious. Bitches.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Finally, let's end this one with a heart-warming smile.

I'll have to remind Jason to shave...

I believe old Mark admitted defeat- he hasn't been back in a few days and things have quieted down. The human tendency towards lunacy never ceases to amaze me.

Kane and Jude's mom sheepishly accepting her first child support payment last Friday. Now we wait for the next time she decides to start threatening to sue for backed child support. Mark my words: it will happen again.

From what I understand they've been counting change over there; I do sympathize, as we've been in hard times of our own. Then again, we didn't move into an apartment we couldn't afford and buy a series of brand new cars including two sports cars and ending with a four-door Jeep that surely guzzles gas.

When the kids' step-dad called Jason at work a few weeks ago and ranted about everything under the sun, he included how much better of a provider he is for the kids, adding that Kane and Jude each have their own bedroom and their own cable tv at his house. I wonder how that's working out for him now? I'd like to add that Jason, God love 'im, immediately replied that he doesn't agree with them having televisions in their bedrooms. We limit the kids' tv-watching over here because we feel like it's better for their brains to, I don't know, play, and interact, ride bikes and ride skateboards and read- you know, all the old-fashioned, Amish-type stuff.

Anyhow, Reed still breaks my heart every day saying things like, "I miss Kane and Jude. Kane and Jude miss me. Can we go get them now?"

Lipstick has their August issue on the website now, but sadly they don't seem to include all the content from the magazine on the web. I DO have an article and some jewelry in the magazine; I can mail you a copy of you're out of Birmingham and want to take a look. Just drop me a line and let me know.

Life goes on, and I'm trying to keep up. I've been making loads of jewelry; I hope to have twenty or thirty new pieces up in the next few days. Jason and I are photographing a wedding this Friday, as well as making the groom's cake and being a bridesmaid. You can figure out which of us is doing what. Jason does look good in a dress.

I must have imagined my graduation in '97. And the subsequent college graduation in 2004.

I don't know if you've been keeping up with this, but it's really very interesting. I have a feeling that I and my ilk have inflicted so many fierce burns that he won't be back. However, you never can tell- it's my understanding that sometimes "Mark" goes off his meds, so there could be more to come. Stay tuned!

If you haven't checked out my Etsy lately, but I have lots of new things that I've just listed in the past couple of weeks. I sold something last night to someone in Tel Aviv- apparently the word is spreading far and wide.

The Lipstick Magazine with my article and my jewelry has come out and it's awfully exciting. Unfortunately they don't have the new issue on their website yet so I can't link it, but I will as soon as I can.

My good friend Lindsey has offered to help me redesign this blog, and I'm really excited about it. LINDSEY, I'M HOLDING YOU TO IT. So you might see some changes in the next few weeks.

This week brings more jewelry-making, job-hunting, and house-cleaning. I'M SO HOT ABOUT IT- especially since I have to accomplish all this without even the help of a GED. Man, I should have finished high school.

And finally, my poor deprived baby: he doesn't have his GED either.

It's okay to try again.

When I was a kid I was scared of the dark. Okay, I am still scared of the dark. But when I was a kid that meant sleeping with my parents. I slept with my parents much, much longer than is appropriate for any child; my mom would try and come and sleep with me in my room, but I would wake up in the night alone and go crawl into bed with her. They had a queen size bed and it could be a tight squeeze with my dad, my mom, and myself. I'm sure it was super for their marriage, having a huge wiggling nine-year-old desperate to sleep with them all the time. I remember at some point telling them that it sure was crowded, and when I got married they were really going to have to buy a bigger bed- true story. HA HA HA.

Eventually my parents divorced, and it was much more comfortable in that bed with just my mom and me in it. Now with the foreclosure and all of our financial problems we are moving into my mom's house, that same house that I grew up in. As it turns out, my mom is going to take a different bedroom and Jason and I are moving into the master bedroom. It just feels funny that I will be once again sleeping in that same room, the room where I felt safest for all those childhood years. I sure hope that I feel as safe there now.

Yesterday we met with our lawyer and then had a celebratory, take-a-deep-breath-and-stop-worrying lunch at the local Mexican restaurant. We are still trying to get things straightened out with Kane and Jude's mom. Jason made the decision that the kids could move back in with her and we'd go back to the original custody agreement, which is what she asked for. She rewarded us by threatening to sue for backed child support for the years when the kids lived with us, the years when we were doing homework and sending lunch money and field trip money and attending parent-teacher conferences. The saddest part is that I predicted this years ago, and here it is. Thanks for being predictable. It will be so satisfying for me to revel in my rightness while living in my cardboard box.

I still don't know what's happening with the house- if the foreclosure if definite or if there are options. There has been so much going on over the past few weeks that I haven't been very good at staying on top of things, at following through. So I just don't know.

Reed is just amazing. He woke up this morning and told me that he dreamed about going to the beach, going to the ocean. He wakes up smiling almost every day, and even though the day goes on to present fits and fights and disagreements and floor-writhing, that moment when I first peer into his crib and he looks up at me and smiles is magic. He told me yesterday in the car, "I love Kane and Jude. Jude always talks to me. But they at they mommy's house." I almost cried.

These days have been marathons, racing to get to the end of the day without bursting into tears. Some days I win, and some days I lose. I have been listening to this song a lot, because it makes me feel better.

Hot potato, hot potato.

Man, oh man. I don't think my fingers could even manage to type all the stuff that has been going on today. Let's just say, Courtroom, here we come. We're being harassed now via text message by Jason's ex-wife, and she's slinging around transparent threats and expecting us to start giving her tons of money for absolutely no reason. I can't really think of much to say besides something I said here about two weeks ago: When you figure out how to squeeze blood from a turnip, please let me in on your technique. I'm nearly certain that she reads this- everyone wave hi!

Job-hunting, jewelry-making, photography-planning, blog-writing, child-rearing. That about sums it up. I'm going to try very hard to have some interesting things to say here; right now I'm absolutely void of anything to type besides bad words.

The scariest thing I've ever seen:

From this Mental Floss article. You really should read it and check out the videos. I'm going to go hide in the closet with a bottle of gin and a shovel.

Thanks, Lindsey.