Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
The goose done gotten fat.
Lordy, y'all: EXHAUSTION. We've finally finished Christmasing, though, and let me just tell you, we've done Christmas six different times in the past week, and I'm glad we're done.
Yesterday we drove to Tennessee to see Jason's mom's family, something I've done once before. It didn't go so swell the first time, or at least the drive home didn't, and this time I honestly thought, "Reed's four now; it'll be fine." And it really was mostly fine, but about two hours outside of Birmingham Reed suddenly started freaking out. He yelled and screamed and cried, mainly because he wanted to get out of his seat and sit in my lap. We kept explaining booster seats and seat belts and air bags and THE LAW and shit, trying to tell him all the reasons why he couldn't do that, to no avail. It sucked pretty bad, listening to my kid scream and watching him writhe and trying not to panic and freak out.
But we made it, and I remembered that all last week I kept telling myself, if I can just make it to Monday, I'll be okay. So here I am on Monday, and I am okay. Tonight our book club meets to discuss Travels In the Scriptorium by Paul Auster, and let me just tell you THAT SHIT IS WEIRD, so I think it'll be a good meeting.
Now, onward ho to 2010.
Yesterday we drove to Tennessee to see Jason's mom's family, something I've done once before. It didn't go so swell the first time, or at least the drive home didn't, and this time I honestly thought, "Reed's four now; it'll be fine." And it really was mostly fine, but about two hours outside of Birmingham Reed suddenly started freaking out. He yelled and screamed and cried, mainly because he wanted to get out of his seat and sit in my lap. We kept explaining booster seats and seat belts and air bags and THE LAW and shit, trying to tell him all the reasons why he couldn't do that, to no avail. It sucked pretty bad, listening to my kid scream and watching him writhe and trying not to panic and freak out.
But we made it, and I remembered that all last week I kept telling myself, if I can just make it to Monday, I'll be okay. So here I am on Monday, and I am okay. Tonight our book club meets to discuss Travels In the Scriptorium by Paul Auster, and let me just tell you THAT SHIT IS WEIRD, so I think it'll be a good meeting.
Now, onward ho to 2010.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
2009. 2010.
Okay y'all, 2009 is almost over. FUCK, it has been a hard year. Every year is a hard year, and I keep saying "I hope that this coming year is better, easier, happier, calmer" and CLEARLY I am jinxing us because it just keeps getting harder and crazier.
This year has been long. I lost my job, Kane and Jude stopped coming to see us, there were fights and drama, we lost our house and moved in with my mom, and things in general were just weird and creepy.
There were good times, though. There was much drinking, karaoking, dancing.
We continued on with Drunk Psychology, had lots of fun with it, even took it to New Orleans.
We went to Costa Rica and had so much fun WITH NO GODDAMN AIR CONDITIONING.
But there was beer, so it was okay.
We won that contest, the one called "Drive To Tennessee and Pay $175 For the Dog Who Farts More Than Any Other Dog In the Whole World!!!" Duque is awesome and we love him. But his farts stink. Bad.
I turned 30.
Jason turned 35.
Reed turned 4.
My mom turned... 27?
I got to photograph Guster, one of my favorite bands ever.
Kristi and Chris graduated from law school, passed the bar, and got married.
Reed was their cute-ass- if very ornery- ring bearer.
I made some new friends...
And spent time with some old ones...
Jason and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. The fact that we've managed to stay together, to stay in love, to keep respecting each other and keep wanting to be with each other when things have been as hard as they have on every front, is proof that if you work hard enough you can achieve anything in this world.
We got a one-eared kitten who lives in our Christmas tree.
And I managed to stick pretty closely to my resolution, to be more upfront about my feelings, what's going on in my head and heart. It hasn't always been easy, but I've tried to weigh the pros and cons in the situations and experiences in my life and bite the bullet and speak up when necessary.
Here's to hoping that I'm still around, both in the blogging world and in the world at large, at the end of 2010. This ride just keeps getting bumpier, but screw it, I've got beer.
This year has been long. I lost my job, Kane and Jude stopped coming to see us, there were fights and drama, we lost our house and moved in with my mom, and things in general were just weird and creepy.
There were good times, though. There was much drinking, karaoking, dancing.
We continued on with Drunk Psychology, had lots of fun with it, even took it to New Orleans.
We went to Costa Rica and had so much fun WITH NO GODDAMN AIR CONDITIONING.
But there was beer, so it was okay.
We won that contest, the one called "Drive To Tennessee and Pay $175 For the Dog Who Farts More Than Any Other Dog In the Whole World!!!" Duque is awesome and we love him. But his farts stink. Bad.
I turned 30.
Jason turned 35.
Reed turned 4.
My mom turned... 27?
I got to photograph Guster, one of my favorite bands ever.
Kristi and Chris graduated from law school, passed the bar, and got married.
Reed was their cute-ass- if very ornery- ring bearer.
I made some new friends...
And spent time with some old ones...
Jason and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. The fact that we've managed to stay together, to stay in love, to keep respecting each other and keep wanting to be with each other when things have been as hard as they have on every front, is proof that if you work hard enough you can achieve anything in this world.
We got a one-eared kitten who lives in our Christmas tree.
And I managed to stick pretty closely to my resolution, to be more upfront about my feelings, what's going on in my head and heart. It hasn't always been easy, but I've tried to weigh the pros and cons in the situations and experiences in my life and bite the bullet and speak up when necessary.
Here's to hoping that I'm still around, both in the blogging world and in the world at large, at the end of 2010. This ride just keeps getting bumpier, but screw it, I've got beer.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Sorry, Jesus, the inn is full.
So you know how we have five people living together in this house? And two dogs? And did you know that we have, like, 74 cats?
Well apparently God decided that we don't have quite enough pussy around here, and he had someone drop off a kitten in a cardboard box on the front steps of the library where my mom works. So OF COURSE my mom is like, We have a new cat! Woo-hoo! And I was all, Hello, I'm Scrooge, no more fucking cats in this house, we have 192, that's enough cats. So my mom quietly brings the cat home last night regardless of what any of us think about it.
And it's pretty fucking cute. And it's a tiny kitten, and it's all, Mew, mew, I'm so little! And it wants Duque to be its mama. So I'm coming over to the dark side.
And now, today, it's favorite place is sitting on my shoulders, purring and emitting little Darth Vader breaths on my shoulder. The force is strong with this one.
Welcome home, number 411.
Well apparently God decided that we don't have quite enough pussy around here, and he had someone drop off a kitten in a cardboard box on the front steps of the library where my mom works. So OF COURSE my mom is like, We have a new cat! Woo-hoo! And I was all, Hello, I'm Scrooge, no more fucking cats in this house, we have 192, that's enough cats. So my mom quietly brings the cat home last night regardless of what any of us think about it.
And it's pretty fucking cute. And it's a tiny kitten, and it's all, Mew, mew, I'm so little! And it wants Duque to be its mama. So I'm coming over to the dark side.
And now, today, it's favorite place is sitting on my shoulders, purring and emitting little Darth Vader breaths on my shoulder. The force is strong with this one.
Welcome home, number 411.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Reed,
Today you are four. On this momentous occasion, all I can really think to say is, BEING A PARENT IS SO HARD. And this day means that I still have 14 more years of it to get through.
I love you so much that it makes it hard to say the following, but somehow I think I'll muddle through: HOLY JEEZ at those lungs you have. You've suddenly found yourself in a place in your life when it seems like a good idea to scream, writhe, and throw tantrums for an hour or so at a time, for terrible offenses done to you by your awful family such as opening the yogurt wrong, giving you a bath ever, or taking off your shoes before we try to put on your jeans.
Let me just reiterate: On Thanksgiving day, you got your pants wet so we had to change them, and you had an hour-and-a-half fit because I took your shoes off before I put the clean jeans on. Because taking the shoes off makes them get "all sprinkley". And I tried every thing I knew to appease you; I offered to put the shoes back on before putting the jeans on, to change your socks, to clean out the shoes (whatever that means), to give you a gold monkey, and to put on different shoes. You made it incredibly clear that the only thing you wanted, the ONLY acceptable option at that time, was to never have taken the shoes off in the first place.
Honestly I don't know what in hell you're talking about half the time, but as long as you're not yelling, I sure do like to listen. Recently you asked if I got "that" from across the street. I had no idea what "that" was, and I was too afraid to ask because I knew it might displease you for me not to know, so I flew by the seat of my pants and said "No, Kristi gave it to you." And you were absolutely enlightened and satisfied with my answer, so much so that you then wanted to know if she also has "Wall-E ones". I told you I don't know, but I'll sure ask.
Before I forget- Kristi, do you have Wall-E ones?
Anyways, Reed, you are testing every limit I got to the point where I think, I will never be the same, some of these things will never go back to the way they once were, and it's not a bad thing, only a weird thing. Honestly I can't describe how weird it is to be a parent, to have known you when you were a squiggly baby, and then a tottering toddler, and now a little boy.
One day you were running through the house making car noises, and I suddenly looked at Jason and said, "Oh, Christ, one day he'll be a teenager." Because that's part of this whole parenting thing for me: I frequently forget that all these periods, these moments in time, are only moments, are finite. I remember when you were a teeny baby, and I was so tired, and I was telling Ma that I wasn't sure if I'd make it. She said, "Just remember that none of this is forever. It only lasts a little while." I have since passed that little jewel on to most of the pregnant women I've known and some of the non-pregnant women who talk about having kids one day because, for me, it was so easy to think, Okay, here it is, this is the rest of my life, this sleeping for an hour or two at a time and always feeling sweaty and scared and anxious and nauseated and wrong and unsure.
Point is, I remind myself of that fact all the time, that this won't last long, that before I know it you'll be all grown and I'll be going, Wait, where did my time go with my baby? Because I already listen to you sing songs and describe movies and shows and watch you draw pictures and think, Where did my time go with my baby? Thank the good Lord that, right now, you'll still kiss and hug me, even in front of "your children" at the daycare. And a couple of months ago I spied you holding two stuffed dogs up and pressing their mouths together, making kissing noises. HA. Sometimes you're sweet as pie.
For at least a little longer, I'm going to keep thinking of you as my sweet baby, even though I know you're not a baby any more. Because even if they're few and far between, I still get moments where you snuggle in my lap, or kiss my cheek, or tell me you missed me, or stroke my hair, just because you feel like it.
I love you,
Mom
Today you are four. On this momentous occasion, all I can really think to say is, BEING A PARENT IS SO HARD. And this day means that I still have 14 more years of it to get through.
I love you so much that it makes it hard to say the following, but somehow I think I'll muddle through: HOLY JEEZ at those lungs you have. You've suddenly found yourself in a place in your life when it seems like a good idea to scream, writhe, and throw tantrums for an hour or so at a time, for terrible offenses done to you by your awful family such as opening the yogurt wrong, giving you a bath ever, or taking off your shoes before we try to put on your jeans.
Let me just reiterate: On Thanksgiving day, you got your pants wet so we had to change them, and you had an hour-and-a-half fit because I took your shoes off before I put the clean jeans on. Because taking the shoes off makes them get "all sprinkley". And I tried every thing I knew to appease you; I offered to put the shoes back on before putting the jeans on, to change your socks, to clean out the shoes (whatever that means), to give you a gold monkey, and to put on different shoes. You made it incredibly clear that the only thing you wanted, the ONLY acceptable option at that time, was to never have taken the shoes off in the first place.
Honestly I don't know what in hell you're talking about half the time, but as long as you're not yelling, I sure do like to listen. Recently you asked if I got "that" from across the street. I had no idea what "that" was, and I was too afraid to ask because I knew it might displease you for me not to know, so I flew by the seat of my pants and said "No, Kristi gave it to you." And you were absolutely enlightened and satisfied with my answer, so much so that you then wanted to know if she also has "Wall-E ones". I told you I don't know, but I'll sure ask.
Before I forget- Kristi, do you have Wall-E ones?
Anyways, Reed, you are testing every limit I got to the point where I think, I will never be the same, some of these things will never go back to the way they once were, and it's not a bad thing, only a weird thing. Honestly I can't describe how weird it is to be a parent, to have known you when you were a squiggly baby, and then a tottering toddler, and now a little boy.
One day you were running through the house making car noises, and I suddenly looked at Jason and said, "Oh, Christ, one day he'll be a teenager." Because that's part of this whole parenting thing for me: I frequently forget that all these periods, these moments in time, are only moments, are finite. I remember when you were a teeny baby, and I was so tired, and I was telling Ma that I wasn't sure if I'd make it. She said, "Just remember that none of this is forever. It only lasts a little while." I have since passed that little jewel on to most of the pregnant women I've known and some of the non-pregnant women who talk about having kids one day because, for me, it was so easy to think, Okay, here it is, this is the rest of my life, this sleeping for an hour or two at a time and always feeling sweaty and scared and anxious and nauseated and wrong and unsure.
Point is, I remind myself of that fact all the time, that this won't last long, that before I know it you'll be all grown and I'll be going, Wait, where did my time go with my baby? Because I already listen to you sing songs and describe movies and shows and watch you draw pictures and think, Where did my time go with my baby? Thank the good Lord that, right now, you'll still kiss and hug me, even in front of "your children" at the daycare. And a couple of months ago I spied you holding two stuffed dogs up and pressing their mouths together, making kissing noises. HA. Sometimes you're sweet as pie.
For at least a little longer, I'm going to keep thinking of you as my sweet baby, even though I know you're not a baby any more. Because even if they're few and far between, I still get moments where you snuggle in my lap, or kiss my cheek, or tell me you missed me, or stroke my hair, just because you feel like it.
I love you,
Mom
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Come see me!
I'm in the Bottletree Craft Bazaar this year, and you should come down and see my jewelry, along with all the other gorgeous stuff here! I'm in the Avondale Bricks building on 41st street south and 2nd avenue.
Friday, December 04, 2009
Sorry; not much coming to the surface to put down these days. Things have been kind of muddling together, days and nights and weekdays and weekends. Thanksgiving was good, Jason's birthday was good, our anniversary was good, taking some bridal portraits was good. Now it's on to Reed's birthday, a wedding we're photographing, Christmas, and New Year's.
I've applied for some jobs but haven't gotten any phone calls. So for right now, just keeping on.
I've applied for some jobs but haven't gotten any phone calls. So for right now, just keeping on.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Giving thanks.
So it's Thanksgiving time again, so I thought I'd go the traditional route and write about what I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for having a roof over my head. In this time when so many people are dealing with foreclosure there are many who don't have any place to go, and there are more still who don't have a place as nice and roomy and comfortable as my mom's house. I know how lucky we are to have a place only a few miles from our house to move in, so close that it didn't have to change our daily routines, didn't change our driving time to work and Reed's daycare.
I'm thankful for my mom who isn't afraid to take care of her daughters who are grown and ought to be able to take care of themselves. I'm glad she still has the stamina to deal with us.
I'm thankful for having free time to write, to take pictures, to clean the house and do our laundry and cook supper. It's scary not having a job, and having to try and survive on Jason's income alone, but the silver lining is that I get moments to myself, time to think, to enjoy the silence.
I'm thankful for Duque, a dog that if he doesn't stop shitting in the house might become a roasted blue heeler and save us the money of buying a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. What I'm saying is STOP SHITTING IN THE HOUSE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
On that note, I'm thankful for Clorox wipes.
I'm thankful for my friends, the people who have helped me pick up the pieces an infinite number of times, and will likely do so infinitely more. My closest friends can split a six pack with me, comfort me when I'm crying, laugh with me when I'm laughing, and take me out for nachos. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to be there for me in good times and bad.
I'm thankful for Reed, my child who tests the limits of my patience (fairly short) and the limits of my sanity (about the size of a cocktail weenie) every single bleeding day. Yesterday my mom and I had Thanksgiving lunch with him at his school, and he ate an entire pile of collard greens and then proceeded to recite the books of the bible. All of 'em. He astonishes me daily, almost hourly, with his ability to roll with the punches, deal with life, and still find joy in odd places.
I'm thankful for Jason, the strangest, most patient, forgiving, ornery man I've ever known. He loves me even in my ugliest moments, even when every limit I possess has been breached and I am shaking and screaming and slamming doors and sterilizing door knobs. He loves me when I am pronouncing that we'll all die of the plague, when I'm buying too many shirts, when I'm covering all my food in hot sauce. I'm thankful for the laughter that we share, for our ability to joke with each other and giggle like all is right with the world. Happy 35th birthday Jason, and happy 6th anniversary. We've been through a lot in the past few years, and if I've learned anything it's that it's never over, things can always get worse, and all we can do is keep striving, keep persevering, and keep making jokes. I'm glad we're in this together.
Lastly, I'm thankful for beer and Mexican food, without which I probably would have thrown myself out a window by now.
I'm thankful for having a roof over my head. In this time when so many people are dealing with foreclosure there are many who don't have any place to go, and there are more still who don't have a place as nice and roomy and comfortable as my mom's house. I know how lucky we are to have a place only a few miles from our house to move in, so close that it didn't have to change our daily routines, didn't change our driving time to work and Reed's daycare.
I'm thankful for my mom who isn't afraid to take care of her daughters who are grown and ought to be able to take care of themselves. I'm glad she still has the stamina to deal with us.
I'm thankful for having free time to write, to take pictures, to clean the house and do our laundry and cook supper. It's scary not having a job, and having to try and survive on Jason's income alone, but the silver lining is that I get moments to myself, time to think, to enjoy the silence.
I'm thankful for Duque, a dog that if he doesn't stop shitting in the house might become a roasted blue heeler and save us the money of buying a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. What I'm saying is STOP SHITTING IN THE HOUSE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
On that note, I'm thankful for Clorox wipes.
I'm thankful for my friends, the people who have helped me pick up the pieces an infinite number of times, and will likely do so infinitely more. My closest friends can split a six pack with me, comfort me when I'm crying, laugh with me when I'm laughing, and take me out for nachos. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to be there for me in good times and bad.
I'm thankful for Reed, my child who tests the limits of my patience (fairly short) and the limits of my sanity (about the size of a cocktail weenie) every single bleeding day. Yesterday my mom and I had Thanksgiving lunch with him at his school, and he ate an entire pile of collard greens and then proceeded to recite the books of the bible. All of 'em. He astonishes me daily, almost hourly, with his ability to roll with the punches, deal with life, and still find joy in odd places.
I'm thankful for Jason, the strangest, most patient, forgiving, ornery man I've ever known. He loves me even in my ugliest moments, even when every limit I possess has been breached and I am shaking and screaming and slamming doors and sterilizing door knobs. He loves me when I am pronouncing that we'll all die of the plague, when I'm buying too many shirts, when I'm covering all my food in hot sauce. I'm thankful for the laughter that we share, for our ability to joke with each other and giggle like all is right with the world. Happy 35th birthday Jason, and happy 6th anniversary. We've been through a lot in the past few years, and if I've learned anything it's that it's never over, things can always get worse, and all we can do is keep striving, keep persevering, and keep making jokes. I'm glad we're in this together.
Lastly, I'm thankful for beer and Mexican food, without which I probably would have thrown myself out a window by now.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Cleaning out my text messages.
- Should I be this excited about applying for a job that, in the listing, has a job "discription"?
- That's okay, yankee, go ahead and shoot me. It's hot outside and I don't wanna milk the cow.
- I guess I should suck it up. : * That's an emoticon of sucking.
- The hipsters have invaded Trussville. I repeat, the hipsters have invaded. Over.
- I've spent all day writing about anal fistulas. It's not the same as a fissure, which was my hope.
- You gay fucking gypsies.
- I wish I knew how to read.
- Rad! Fuck em! WE ALREADY BEEN GOTTEN OUT!
- And here's a pirate sucking it up: . *
- Oh, Lord, and the cooking and the walking and the shooting and the turkey-plucking. The Civil War was GROSS, dude.
- We at ur hows, steelin ur theengs. That's lol cat.
- The guys who aren't worth stalking are stalking you.
- Hipsters in Trussville! How did they ever get in?
- I GOT this shit. I am so ghetto.
- "What you about to learn is they ain't no balm in Gilead."
- That's okay, yankee, go ahead and shoot me. It's hot outside and I don't wanna milk the cow.
- I guess I should suck it up. : * That's an emoticon of sucking.
- The hipsters have invaded Trussville. I repeat, the hipsters have invaded. Over.
- I've spent all day writing about anal fistulas. It's not the same as a fissure, which was my hope.
- You gay fucking gypsies.
- I wish I knew how to read.
- Rad! Fuck em! WE ALREADY BEEN GOTTEN OUT!
- And here's a pirate sucking it up: . *
- Oh, Lord, and the cooking and the walking and the shooting and the turkey-plucking. The Civil War was GROSS, dude.
- We at ur hows, steelin ur theengs. That's lol cat.
- The guys who aren't worth stalking are stalking you.
- Hipsters in Trussville! How did they ever get in?
- I GOT this shit. I am so ghetto.
- "What you about to learn is they ain't no balm in Gilead."
Monday, November 16, 2009
Man, oh man, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And it's always darkest before the dawn. And just when you think things can't get any weirder, they do. And some other random, cliche words and phrases and people say.
A lot of things are coming, like Jason's birthday, Thanksgiving, bridal portraits, Reed's birthday, a couple of weddings, and Christmas. This time of year is both fun and incredibly stressful, and lately I'm focusing more on the stress than the fun, unfortunately.
But, as they say, this too shall pass.
Fuck.
A lot of things are coming, like Jason's birthday, Thanksgiving, bridal portraits, Reed's birthday, a couple of weddings, and Christmas. This time of year is both fun and incredibly stressful, and lately I'm focusing more on the stress than the fun, unfortunately.
But, as they say, this too shall pass.
Fuck.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Ida is showing herself here today, and I've decided to wait the weather out inside, under a blanket.
I took a couple of pictures from various windows in the house.
Days like today make me incredibly thankful that I have a roof over my head.
Monday, November 09, 2009
The odd couple.
I've been spending a lot of my time with these guys lately. They are weird, ornery, and hungry.
Anyway, life goes on over here. Reed went back to school today, and Jason and I got our new bedroom better settled and organized.
I'm reading Cold Mountain for the first time, and getting ready to start People of the Whale for book club.
Okay, that's all I got.
Anyway, life goes on over here. Reed went back to school today, and Jason and I got our new bedroom better settled and organized.
I'm reading Cold Mountain for the first time, and getting ready to start People of the Whale for book club.
Okay, that's all I got.
Friday, November 06, 2009
"You look like a doily."
This week has been nutty.
We took Reed to the doctor on Wednesday; turns out he has the flu AND strep throat. Luckily he's on the mend now, and it's even possible that no one else in the house managed to catch any of his plague.
I went to meet a friend for a drink at Bottletree last night, and happened to see Those Darlins, and MAN, they are really good. So, so good. And Nikki Darlin gave me a free sticker! You can't beat that with a stick.
Tonight I am meeting my lawyer for a much-needed margarita. By "my lawyer", I mean Kristi. And by "much-needed", I mean FOR DAMN SURE, I NEED IT. I spend several days this week thinking maybe I was getting sick with whatever Reed has, but it never progressed, never turned into fever, body aches, total grossness. Finally I realized that I'm in some kind of slump. I hesitate to just say, "Okay, I'm depressed", because somehow this is different. I think it's probably a combination of moving, learning to live with my mom and my sister again, being unemployed and attempting to job search when I see listings for secretarial work that say "Must have ten years secretarial experience", and the time change that means it's dark by 5 every day.
Nevertheless, I have stumbled upon a few neat opportunities with writing and photography, and I'm hoping they pan out. Also I'm showing my jewelry at the Bottletree Craft Bazaar on December 5th, so if you're in Birmingham, come and check it out.
Anyways, the moral of this story is there is no moral to the story. There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.
And now I'm quoting Troy Dyer. I think it's time to go.
We took Reed to the doctor on Wednesday; turns out he has the flu AND strep throat. Luckily he's on the mend now, and it's even possible that no one else in the house managed to catch any of his plague.
I went to meet a friend for a drink at Bottletree last night, and happened to see Those Darlins, and MAN, they are really good. So, so good. And Nikki Darlin gave me a free sticker! You can't beat that with a stick.
Tonight I am meeting my lawyer for a much-needed margarita. By "my lawyer", I mean Kristi. And by "much-needed", I mean FOR DAMN SURE, I NEED IT. I spend several days this week thinking maybe I was getting sick with whatever Reed has, but it never progressed, never turned into fever, body aches, total grossness. Finally I realized that I'm in some kind of slump. I hesitate to just say, "Okay, I'm depressed", because somehow this is different. I think it's probably a combination of moving, learning to live with my mom and my sister again, being unemployed and attempting to job search when I see listings for secretarial work that say "Must have ten years secretarial experience", and the time change that means it's dark by 5 every day.
Nevertheless, I have stumbled upon a few neat opportunities with writing and photography, and I'm hoping they pan out. Also I'm showing my jewelry at the Bottletree Craft Bazaar on December 5th, so if you're in Birmingham, come and check it out.
Anyways, the moral of this story is there is no moral to the story. There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.
And now I'm quoting Troy Dyer. I think it's time to go.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Pig meat, books, and music. And a Jew.
A year ago today I was starting my new job. This year on this day, I'm eating bacon. See, things are lookin' up already!
My friends and I have started a book club called Bitches, Booze, and Books!, and I'm pretty excited about it. Last month Valerie chose The World According to Garp, and the meeting was really fun. We decided that the book is mainly about blowjobs, and the male fixation on such. Well, that's what I decided. This month I've chosen People of the Whale by Linda Hogan, which I read several months ago and really liked. I hope this month's meeting is as fun as the last one.
In other news, Matisyahu is coming to Birmingham this Saturday night, and I'm hoping that Lindsey and I get to cover it for al.com. We'll be covering Pete Yorn and Eric Hutchinson (who I have photographed before) in the coming weeks, and Jason will be helping Lindsey cover Cage the Elephant.
Also I just discovered that Matisyahu's birthday is June 30th, just three days after mine, SO CLEARLY WE ARE GOING TO BE BEST FRIENDS.
My friends and I have started a book club called Bitches, Booze, and Books!, and I'm pretty excited about it. Last month Valerie chose The World According to Garp, and the meeting was really fun. We decided that the book is mainly about blowjobs, and the male fixation on such. Well, that's what I decided. This month I've chosen People of the Whale by Linda Hogan, which I read several months ago and really liked. I hope this month's meeting is as fun as the last one.
In other news, Matisyahu is coming to Birmingham this Saturday night, and I'm hoping that Lindsey and I get to cover it for al.com. We'll be covering Pete Yorn and Eric Hutchinson (who I have photographed before) in the coming weeks, and Jason will be helping Lindsey cover Cage the Elephant.
Also I just discovered that Matisyahu's birthday is June 30th, just three days after mine, SO CLEARLY WE ARE GOING TO BE BEST FRIENDS.
Monday, November 02, 2009
"She's infectious human waste!"
Ah, another Halloween come and gone.
Reed was The Black Spiderman (as he calls it), but only for a little while at his daycare Halloween party. Friday evening he came down with a fever and cough that lasted until Sunday afternoon, so no Trick or Treating for Reed this year. I'm thinking of getting him dressed up in his costume some time this week and taking him to a couple of houses to get candy, because I feel so bad for him to have missed it. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to be concerned whatsoever.
Jason and I dressed as Tyler Durden and Marla Singer, respectively, and I think it might have been our best costumes yet. Of course I'm automatically a fan of anything that allows me to have huge hair and tons of makeup.
Life around here is starting to feel very calm and quiet, and it's both reassuring and unsettling. I'm still applying for jobs and not getting any phone calls. Most days I clean and rearrange and walk dogs and feed cats and clean some more and do laundry. As a result, I'm not finding myself with much to write about. So, you know, bless you guys' hearts for having to come on here and read about what I had for breakfast.
It was oatmeal, by the way.
Reed was The Black Spiderman (as he calls it), but only for a little while at his daycare Halloween party. Friday evening he came down with a fever and cough that lasted until Sunday afternoon, so no Trick or Treating for Reed this year. I'm thinking of getting him dressed up in his costume some time this week and taking him to a couple of houses to get candy, because I feel so bad for him to have missed it. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to be concerned whatsoever.
Jason and I dressed as Tyler Durden and Marla Singer, respectively, and I think it might have been our best costumes yet. Of course I'm automatically a fan of anything that allows me to have huge hair and tons of makeup.
Life around here is starting to feel very calm and quiet, and it's both reassuring and unsettling. I'm still applying for jobs and not getting any phone calls. Most days I clean and rearrange and walk dogs and feed cats and clean some more and do laundry. As a result, I'm not finding myself with much to write about. So, you know, bless you guys' hearts for having to come on here and read about what I had for breakfast.
It was oatmeal, by the way.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Ha!
I finally have my computer hooked up to the internet here at my mom's house, and in celebration I decided to abuse the dog.
Friday, October 23, 2009
One night only!
Jason and I, along with several other people, are showing stuff in an art show on Sunday night, October 25th. If you're in the Birmingham area and want to come, get in touch with me for directions and shit. I'll have tons of new jewelry, and Jason painted a brand new piece just for this show.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Gretchen, the wonderasshole.
This is my mom's dog Gretchen. Yesterday I took her and Duque over to our old house to let them run around in our fenced back yard. OF COURSE, Gretchen managed to get out of the fence.
Cut to Lindsey and me, driving around the neighborhood slowly, hollering and whistling out my windows. We discover Gretchen, sleeping peacefully in the sun in someone else's driveway about three blocks from my house. Lindsey catches her, and promptly loses hold, and then we're running through people's back yards trying to catch her. We end up in a back yard where a dude is sitting peacefully on his back porch, and he smiles and waves and half-heartedly calls Gretchen to see if she'll come to him.
Eventually we corner her in his front yard up against his porch, but alas, I've left the leash in the car (4 houses down), and so I have to pick her up and carry her squirming to the car.
It was fun.
But now I have to go. She's gotten away from my mom's house, and I have to go and try to catch her.
Cut to Lindsey and me, driving around the neighborhood slowly, hollering and whistling out my windows. We discover Gretchen, sleeping peacefully in the sun in someone else's driveway about three blocks from my house. Lindsey catches her, and promptly loses hold, and then we're running through people's back yards trying to catch her. We end up in a back yard where a dude is sitting peacefully on his back porch, and he smiles and waves and half-heartedly calls Gretchen to see if she'll come to him.
Eventually we corner her in his front yard up against his porch, but alas, I've left the leash in the car (4 houses down), and so I have to pick her up and carry her squirming to the car.
It was fun.
But now I have to go. She's gotten away from my mom's house, and I have to go and try to catch her.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Slowly getting back to normal. Whatever that is.
We're slowly but surely getting all our things moved in at my mom's house. GAH, we have a lot of shit. I mean, loads and loads of shit.
We've moved most of the furniture, and our artwork, our books, our movies. And, while we've moved some of our clothes, HOLY CRAP at all the clothes we still have to move. And I have seriously already donated about 10 garbage bags full of clothes, shoes, and purses to Goodwill. For fuck's sakes, I don't know how we had it all in our house to begin with.
Duque is settling in especially well here. He's had a lightness about him, a spring in his step, that I've never seen before. He can play with Gretchen (my mom's Jack Russell terrier), or her abundance of cats. I think he really loves that, so far, he's been sleeping in our bedroom floor instead of his crate.
Reed loves this, loves living at Ma's house, and our only problem with him so far is that he is determined to sleep with Ma every night. We're working on getting him to sleep in his own room, and I'm hoping that's going to happen before we all go crazy.
Anyway, boring post, I know, but that's what's going on over here. What's going on with you?
We've moved most of the furniture, and our artwork, our books, our movies. And, while we've moved some of our clothes, HOLY CRAP at all the clothes we still have to move. And I have seriously already donated about 10 garbage bags full of clothes, shoes, and purses to Goodwill. For fuck's sakes, I don't know how we had it all in our house to begin with.
Duque is settling in especially well here. He's had a lightness about him, a spring in his step, that I've never seen before. He can play with Gretchen (my mom's Jack Russell terrier), or her abundance of cats. I think he really loves that, so far, he's been sleeping in our bedroom floor instead of his crate.
Reed loves this, loves living at Ma's house, and our only problem with him so far is that he is determined to sleep with Ma every night. We're working on getting him to sleep in his own room, and I'm hoping that's going to happen before we all go crazy.
Anyway, boring post, I know, but that's what's going on over here. What's going on with you?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Cleaning out my text messages.
- So, everyone has nipple hair. I feel so vindicated.
- BE COOL IS IT THE FUZZ
- I wouldn't talk to Alan Hunter about Mtv because I try not to reward people's mediocrity. How sad it must be to have peaked in the 80's.
- This thing is kind of a celebration in kissing your own ass. I've never seen so many self important assholes walking around, smiling smugly at one another.
- I just got Chik Fil A because I was craving it like a business of ferrets.
- I guess my dead Phish spell hasn't quite kicked in yet.
- You have no idea how often I've wished you were here this afternoon specifically to YELL shitty dick at people.
- I AM LIKE CUCUMBER
- I just had a shot of tequila. You people should be concerned.
- 'slam on my breaks'- is that like 'devaining shrimp'?
- I am craving a hillock of beans.
- A hotdog just told me to do the wave.
- My lovecan's wasted.
- BE COOL IS IT THE FUZZ
- I wouldn't talk to Alan Hunter about Mtv because I try not to reward people's mediocrity. How sad it must be to have peaked in the 80's.
- This thing is kind of a celebration in kissing your own ass. I've never seen so many self important assholes walking around, smiling smugly at one another.
- I just got Chik Fil A because I was craving it like a business of ferrets.
- I guess my dead Phish spell hasn't quite kicked in yet.
- You have no idea how often I've wished you were here this afternoon specifically to YELL shitty dick at people.
- I AM LIKE CUCUMBER
- I just had a shot of tequila. You people should be concerned.
- 'slam on my breaks'- is that like 'devaining shrimp'?
- I am craving a hillock of beans.
- A hotdog just told me to do the wave.
- My lovecan's wasted.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
"Who says I can't get stoned; pick my nose in my house alone."
So, then, here I am at my mom's house. We're about half-way moved in, and everything is hectic and mixed up and every time we need something- clean underwear, socks, toothbrush- we have to figure out if it's here or there.
This is the part I hate about moving: moving.
What's cool about moving in here is that my mom has internet. INTERNET! How I've missed you. It's been right about one year since we lost internet at our house; one year since I've been able to roll out of bed and check my email, or read my favorite blogs, or job search, or write something new here. I'm looking forward to being able to do that again.
Plus, you know, PORN. Gotta love the porn.
Okay, I've got Jason dancing around in his underwear singing John Mayer right now. I've gotta go.
This is the part I hate about moving: moving.
What's cool about moving in here is that my mom has internet. INTERNET! How I've missed you. It's been right about one year since we lost internet at our house; one year since I've been able to roll out of bed and check my email, or read my favorite blogs, or job search, or write something new here. I'm looking forward to being able to do that again.
Plus, you know, PORN. Gotta love the porn.
Okay, I've got Jason dancing around in his underwear singing John Mayer right now. I've gotta go.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
We'll all float on anyway.
Hm, where to start? I've already written about getting laid off, and about my uncle dying. Let's see; what else?
Well, on Friday we got a letter in the mail that our house has been foreclosed, and that we have ten days (until October 10th) to vacate. PARTY, right? So we've been planning and packing and trying to figure out how to fit all of us into my mother's house. It's not that small of a house, it's just the plan of action, and figuring where to put all our shit- really that should be ALL OUR SHIT EXCLAMATION- once we get there.
So this morning I called the lawyer for the mortgage company to find out if that date, October 10th, was the definite date we had to be out, because if we could get even a couple more days it would make things so much easier for us. The attorney said that we should call our mortgage company and ask for an extended vacate period, that they do that all the time, that it's nothing out of the ordinary. So I called Citimortgage at the number he gave me and spoke to Avery, who had no idea what I was talking about, and that I should call Joe X- I'm not shitting you, JOE X is who I should talk to. So I called the number Avery gave me for JOE X, and Kathy answered and said she had never heard of JOE X, and that the number I called was her direct line and she had never heard of a JOE X and that she doesn't work with loans and I could try Safeguard, the property management company. So I called Safeguard, and the girl there told me they had nothing to do with any of it, and I should talk to my mortgage company. THANKS. So I called the mortgage company again and spoke with a girl who said that there's nothing they could do; had we asked for assistance they might have been able to help us out. I said, "We DID ask for assistance; we filled out your hardship package TWICE and never heard from you guys, and every time we've called we've been told that our case has been turned over to someone else and that someone else is off today so we'll have to call them tomorrow." Then I asked to speak to her supervisor. Her supervisor Ashley informed me that we should call the sheriff's office to find out when we actually have to be out of the house and if we can get and extension. I said, "You're telling me that YOU can't tell me, and no one there at Citimortgage can tell me when we're supposed to be out of the house." She replied, "Yes." So then I said, "Hey, are you guys hiring? Because I need a job and I could come sit down there and not know what I'm doing for ten or twelve dollars an hour." I SERIOUSLY SAID THAT, I AM SUCH A BADASS. So I called the sheriff's department and they had no idea what I was talking about and I spoke to three different people including SMALL CLAIMS (a mortgage? small claims? seriously?) and probate and nobody knew anything about it. So now I've called the attorney again and left a message and I'm waiting to hear back.
DO NOT, FOR THE LOVE, EVER GET A MORTGAGE THROUGH CITIMORTGAGE. PLEASE. FOR YOUR OWN SAKE, DON'T DO IT.
Also, last night, Jason's ex-wife's husband started sending him threatening text messages about how he's coming to our house and Jason is a "jackass" and a "sorry ass". Oh, and I haven't even told you the half of what's been going on. I've been debating how much I'm going to write here about what's been going on with Jason's kids, so suffice it to say that everything is all messed up and the blame falls on me, on my being scary and threatening, and now my husband can't spend time with his kids and my son can't spend time with his brothers because of it.
All else I know to say on that is, 1) I am proud of this blog. I love to write, and I like everything I've written here. I enjoy every one's comments, whether good or bad, and I like knowing that people are looking at this blog. I don't regret the things I've written here because I am allowed to express love and exasperation and I am allowed to use sarcasm and exaggeration when I do it; I am allowed an opinion. If you don't like my opinion, don't read my blog. 2) I love Kane and Jude, tons and tons, more than I am capable of expressing here, and I have always treated them with love and respect and the things that I've written here about them speak to how deep and real that love is. Sometimes I write about day-to-day things like SOCKS! and COATS!, but I haven't written anything on this blog about any of that stuff that I haven't said out loud to Kane and Jude. And 3) I don't write this blog for children to read. The internet is a big, scary place and there is a lot of stuff out there that isn't for children. My blog certainly isn't the worst of it; there are all kinds of things scarier like PORN and CARROT TOP and REPUBLICANISM that kids could be looking at, but all the same, this blog is not for kids.
So, I think that about gets us up to speed. Thoughts? Questions? 'Ludes?
Well, on Friday we got a letter in the mail that our house has been foreclosed, and that we have ten days (until October 10th) to vacate. PARTY, right? So we've been planning and packing and trying to figure out how to fit all of us into my mother's house. It's not that small of a house, it's just the plan of action, and figuring where to put all our shit- really that should be ALL OUR SHIT EXCLAMATION- once we get there.
So this morning I called the lawyer for the mortgage company to find out if that date, October 10th, was the definite date we had to be out, because if we could get even a couple more days it would make things so much easier for us. The attorney said that we should call our mortgage company and ask for an extended vacate period, that they do that all the time, that it's nothing out of the ordinary. So I called Citimortgage at the number he gave me and spoke to Avery, who had no idea what I was talking about, and that I should call Joe X- I'm not shitting you, JOE X is who I should talk to. So I called the number Avery gave me for JOE X, and Kathy answered and said she had never heard of JOE X, and that the number I called was her direct line and she had never heard of a JOE X and that she doesn't work with loans and I could try Safeguard, the property management company. So I called Safeguard, and the girl there told me they had nothing to do with any of it, and I should talk to my mortgage company. THANKS. So I called the mortgage company again and spoke with a girl who said that there's nothing they could do; had we asked for assistance they might have been able to help us out. I said, "We DID ask for assistance; we filled out your hardship package TWICE and never heard from you guys, and every time we've called we've been told that our case has been turned over to someone else and that someone else is off today so we'll have to call them tomorrow." Then I asked to speak to her supervisor. Her supervisor Ashley informed me that we should call the sheriff's office to find out when we actually have to be out of the house and if we can get and extension. I said, "You're telling me that YOU can't tell me, and no one there at Citimortgage can tell me when we're supposed to be out of the house." She replied, "Yes." So then I said, "Hey, are you guys hiring? Because I need a job and I could come sit down there and not know what I'm doing for ten or twelve dollars an hour." I SERIOUSLY SAID THAT, I AM SUCH A BADASS. So I called the sheriff's department and they had no idea what I was talking about and I spoke to three different people including SMALL CLAIMS (a mortgage? small claims? seriously?) and probate and nobody knew anything about it. So now I've called the attorney again and left a message and I'm waiting to hear back.
DO NOT, FOR THE LOVE, EVER GET A MORTGAGE THROUGH CITIMORTGAGE. PLEASE. FOR YOUR OWN SAKE, DON'T DO IT.
Also, last night, Jason's ex-wife's husband started sending him threatening text messages about how he's coming to our house and Jason is a "jackass" and a "sorry ass". Oh, and I haven't even told you the half of what's been going on. I've been debating how much I'm going to write here about what's been going on with Jason's kids, so suffice it to say that everything is all messed up and the blame falls on me, on my being scary and threatening, and now my husband can't spend time with his kids and my son can't spend time with his brothers because of it.
All else I know to say on that is, 1) I am proud of this blog. I love to write, and I like everything I've written here. I enjoy every one's comments, whether good or bad, and I like knowing that people are looking at this blog. I don't regret the things I've written here because I am allowed to express love and exasperation and I am allowed to use sarcasm and exaggeration when I do it; I am allowed an opinion. If you don't like my opinion, don't read my blog. 2) I love Kane and Jude, tons and tons, more than I am capable of expressing here, and I have always treated them with love and respect and the things that I've written here about them speak to how deep and real that love is. Sometimes I write about day-to-day things like SOCKS! and COATS!, but I haven't written anything on this blog about any of that stuff that I haven't said out loud to Kane and Jude. And 3) I don't write this blog for children to read. The internet is a big, scary place and there is a lot of stuff out there that isn't for children. My blog certainly isn't the worst of it; there are all kinds of things scarier like PORN and CARROT TOP and REPUBLICANISM that kids could be looking at, but all the same, this blog is not for kids.
So, I think that about gets us up to speed. Thoughts? Questions? 'Ludes?
Friday, September 25, 2009
I wrote here not too long ago about the horrific slaughter of dolphins that has been occuring and the documentary that has come out about it, The Cove. My mom has a spiritual and sentimental attachment to dolphins that I'm not going to go into here; suffice it to say that the subject feels very close to home for me.
I've just watched a documentary called Sharkwater, and it too was horrific. Did you know that Taiwan pays Costa Rica huge amounts of money for fishermen to illegally fish sharks, cut their fins off, and send them to Taiwan for soups, pills, etc.? Costa Rica is a country that makes a lot of money off of ecotourism, and shark fishing is technically illegal, yet hundreds of thousands of sharks die there in the waters around Cocos every year. Did you also know that, as a result of intense pressure from fishermen, Galapagos allowed longline fishing of sharks for a time? It has since become illegal again, but for fuck's sakes, Galapagos! It's a place that's known for being home to some of the most rare and interesting animals on earth, and one of the biggest threats in Galapagos now is illegal shark fishing (The most pressing threat to the Marine Reserve comes from local, mainland and foreign fishing targeting marine life illegally within the Reserve, such as sharks (hammerheads and other species) for their fins, and the harvest of sea cucumbers out of season.)
Have you ever watched fishermen catch sharks and "obtain" the fins? They use long lines, miles and miles long, with lots of hooks attached all along the line. When they haul the sharks onto the boats, sometimes they're already dead, but sometimes they're still alive. They slice off all the fins including the tail (even with the live ones) and toss the body back into the ocean. Fishing in this manner means that they catch all sorts of things, sailfish and other species that they aren't looking for, and all different kinds of sharks including hammerheads and tiger sharks and even whale sharks, a species that has no teeth and filter feeds, eating things like algae and krill.
We humans get the majority of our oxygen (that we need to survive) from the ocean. This shark fishing is rapidly killing off the animal that is at the top of the food chain in the ocean, and no one knows how badly this will upset ocean ecology, marine life as a whole when there are no more (or just drastically less) sharks. Sharks are the oldest living animal on this planet, older than dinosaurs, and they've survived and thrived for this long in nature, until now we're killing them off, obliterating them.
The man who made the documentary Sharkwater, Rob Stewart, talks about how he's always been drawn to sharks, how watching them die is like watching his family die. His intense concern for sharks reminds me a lot of my mother's connection with dolphins.
I realize that there are terrible things happening all over the world, that there are fifty million different causes to be concerned about, but I think the first step to change is to talk about these problems, to get the word out. In the film Sharkwater it is said that to make change, you don't need everyone in the world to fight for change, you really only need a few people who are really passionate about it. So I'm just trying to help get the word out.
I've just watched a documentary called Sharkwater, and it too was horrific. Did you know that Taiwan pays Costa Rica huge amounts of money for fishermen to illegally fish sharks, cut their fins off, and send them to Taiwan for soups, pills, etc.? Costa Rica is a country that makes a lot of money off of ecotourism, and shark fishing is technically illegal, yet hundreds of thousands of sharks die there in the waters around Cocos every year. Did you also know that, as a result of intense pressure from fishermen, Galapagos allowed longline fishing of sharks for a time? It has since become illegal again, but for fuck's sakes, Galapagos! It's a place that's known for being home to some of the most rare and interesting animals on earth, and one of the biggest threats in Galapagos now is illegal shark fishing (The most pressing threat to the Marine Reserve comes from local, mainland and foreign fishing targeting marine life illegally within the Reserve, such as sharks (hammerheads and other species) for their fins, and the harvest of sea cucumbers out of season.)
Have you ever watched fishermen catch sharks and "obtain" the fins? They use long lines, miles and miles long, with lots of hooks attached all along the line. When they haul the sharks onto the boats, sometimes they're already dead, but sometimes they're still alive. They slice off all the fins including the tail (even with the live ones) and toss the body back into the ocean. Fishing in this manner means that they catch all sorts of things, sailfish and other species that they aren't looking for, and all different kinds of sharks including hammerheads and tiger sharks and even whale sharks, a species that has no teeth and filter feeds, eating things like algae and krill.
We humans get the majority of our oxygen (that we need to survive) from the ocean. This shark fishing is rapidly killing off the animal that is at the top of the food chain in the ocean, and no one knows how badly this will upset ocean ecology, marine life as a whole when there are no more (or just drastically less) sharks. Sharks are the oldest living animal on this planet, older than dinosaurs, and they've survived and thrived for this long in nature, until now we're killing them off, obliterating them.
The man who made the documentary Sharkwater, Rob Stewart, talks about how he's always been drawn to sharks, how watching them die is like watching his family die. His intense concern for sharks reminds me a lot of my mother's connection with dolphins.
I realize that there are terrible things happening all over the world, that there are fifty million different causes to be concerned about, but I think the first step to change is to talk about these problems, to get the word out. In the film Sharkwater it is said that to make change, you don't need everyone in the world to fight for change, you really only need a few people who are really passionate about it. So I'm just trying to help get the word out.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Cleaning out my text messages.
- So many douchebags, so little time.
- I FOLLOW THROUGH WITH MY HYPERBOLE, BITCH!
- Can you or would you be willing to ghostbust?
- BUFFY. There's a girl in Wal-Mart who is the TRUE embodiment of 10 lbs of shit in a 5 lb bag.
- Why do good hair days only happen on days when you have nothing to do but watch Gilmore Girls and eat slices of turkey lunch meat?
- I want a baby. What? Did that come out?
- My mom watches some dumbass soap opera and she's watching it now and I looked up and there's Kevin Arnold's mom, being a skanky ho.
- I am wearing shorts with a one-inch inseam and a Snapped t shirt. I think this qualifies as letting oneself go. I had an icecream sandwich for lunch.
- You can just lick the doorknob.
- Is she a Republican? Does she like Nickelback?
- I feel like a big dirty whore most of the time. I embrace my big dirty whoreness.
- I just folded your dumbass linens. I should be getting paid.
- I am dismayed by the youth.
- I feel like a prized asshole.
- Your lame leg is somebody else's pot o' gold!
- Gutter is a tool! Gutter is a tool!
- Hangover, I am your bitch lover.
- Dick Cheney: still a douche.
- I FOLLOW THROUGH WITH MY HYPERBOLE, BITCH!
- Can you or would you be willing to ghostbust?
- BUFFY. There's a girl in Wal-Mart who is the TRUE embodiment of 10 lbs of shit in a 5 lb bag.
- Why do good hair days only happen on days when you have nothing to do but watch Gilmore Girls and eat slices of turkey lunch meat?
- I want a baby. What? Did that come out?
- My mom watches some dumbass soap opera and she's watching it now and I looked up and there's Kevin Arnold's mom, being a skanky ho.
- I am wearing shorts with a one-inch inseam and a Snapped t shirt. I think this qualifies as letting oneself go. I had an icecream sandwich for lunch.
- You can just lick the doorknob.
- Is she a Republican? Does she like Nickelback?
- I feel like a big dirty whore most of the time. I embrace my big dirty whoreness.
- I just folded your dumbass linens. I should be getting paid.
- I am dismayed by the youth.
- I feel like a prized asshole.
- Your lame leg is somebody else's pot o' gold!
- Gutter is a tool! Gutter is a tool!
- Hangover, I am your bitch lover.
- Dick Cheney: still a douche.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
"Things that we learn are no longer enough."
Hoo, boy, I don't even know where to start. Not that much exciting has been happening anyway, so there probably isn't actually even that much to say.
Life has been weird, difficult, trying, unpredictable.
So, you know, pretty much like any other time in my life.
I keep thinking of ways to make things better, steps to take, and I can't seem to muster any motivation when it counts. I'm having a lot, A LOT, of trouble getting things done, finding the persistence to work on my life.
I've been reading a lot, watching movies, the usual modes of procrastination. I've also been using a lot of energy just to get through each day without whacking myself in the face with a hammer, whac-a-mole style.
Again, like any other day.
I really hope I can get things going again on this blog soon. I am really very proud of a lot of the things I've written here, and I don't want to let it go by the wayside. It's been suggested to me recently that this blog has caused me so much trouble that I ought to just take the whole thing down, and that idea made me so sad, really really depressed, so I think I'm going to stick with it a while longer and see what happens. Selfish, maybe; it's just that it has really meant a lot to me, really gotten me through a lot of things to be able to document them here. I enjoy getting it out, working things out in type, and I love and appreciate everyone's comments, advice, encouragement.
There have been times when this blog has been all that has gotten me through the day. I'm just not willing to toss it out yet. Thanks to those of you who are sticking with it with me. I love y'all.
Life has been weird, difficult, trying, unpredictable.
So, you know, pretty much like any other time in my life.
I keep thinking of ways to make things better, steps to take, and I can't seem to muster any motivation when it counts. I'm having a lot, A LOT, of trouble getting things done, finding the persistence to work on my life.
I've been reading a lot, watching movies, the usual modes of procrastination. I've also been using a lot of energy just to get through each day without whacking myself in the face with a hammer, whac-a-mole style.
Again, like any other day.
I really hope I can get things going again on this blog soon. I am really very proud of a lot of the things I've written here, and I don't want to let it go by the wayside. It's been suggested to me recently that this blog has caused me so much trouble that I ought to just take the whole thing down, and that idea made me so sad, really really depressed, so I think I'm going to stick with it a while longer and see what happens. Selfish, maybe; it's just that it has really meant a lot to me, really gotten me through a lot of things to be able to document them here. I enjoy getting it out, working things out in type, and I love and appreciate everyone's comments, advice, encouragement.
There have been times when this blog has been all that has gotten me through the day. I'm just not willing to toss it out yet. Thanks to those of you who are sticking with it with me. I love y'all.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Ring Bearer.
Here is a photo of Reed when he was in Kristi and Chris' wedding a few weeks ago.
So cute.
So cute.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
In Memory.
My sweet Uncle Vann passed away yesterday. Somewhere I have a recent picture of Vann with Reed in his lap. When I find it, I'll post it.
We all love and miss you.
We all love and miss you.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
I don't have the energy to title.
Okay, I'm very sorry I haven't written much here lately. We still don't have internet at the house, so it's kind of difficult for me to get around to writing these days.
I've applied for unemployment, so hopefully that will come through in the next couple of weeks. Hell, hopefully I'll get a job. But I try not to dream too big.
If I'm going to be totally honest, I have to tell you that life has been hell this past couple of weeks. Really, life has been hell for this last couple of years. But hey, tomato, tomahto.
I can't go into too much, but I fear that we won't be seeing Kane and Jude for a while. It's really sad, because regardless of how much I miss them, miss seeing them and hearing how their lives are going, Jason misses the hell out of them, and I can't even tell you how frequently Reed asks where they are, when they're coming back, when he'll see them again. Right now we haven't seen them in about a month, and they haven't stayed at our house in about six weeks. I've written here on more than one occasion how much Reed loves them, how I worry, how much I love them.
I guess I should say again how much I really, really love them, have always loved them, have always tried my best to be there for them, take care of them, and provide them with a safe and happy place to call home.
This coming Monday is the third birthday of this blog. HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY, VELVETEEN INDIAN. Maybe one day I'll be real.
I've applied for unemployment, so hopefully that will come through in the next couple of weeks. Hell, hopefully I'll get a job. But I try not to dream too big.
If I'm going to be totally honest, I have to tell you that life has been hell this past couple of weeks. Really, life has been hell for this last couple of years. But hey, tomato, tomahto.
I can't go into too much, but I fear that we won't be seeing Kane and Jude for a while. It's really sad, because regardless of how much I miss them, miss seeing them and hearing how their lives are going, Jason misses the hell out of them, and I can't even tell you how frequently Reed asks where they are, when they're coming back, when he'll see them again. Right now we haven't seen them in about a month, and they haven't stayed at our house in about six weeks. I've written here on more than one occasion how much Reed loves them, how I worry, how much I love them.
I guess I should say again how much I really, really love them, have always loved them, have always tried my best to be there for them, take care of them, and provide them with a safe and happy place to call home.
This coming Monday is the third birthday of this blog. HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY, VELVETEEN INDIAN. Maybe one day I'll be real.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
First Dance.
Much fun has been had, and times are weird. But this is lovely, so look upon it and know that everything will be as it should, if not now, then soon.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Right.
Things have gone kind of quiet over here. I intended to use this day to clean my house, but then Jason did most of it last night so here I am, wasting my day, listening to the sounds of the house and my dog and the ceiling fans.
I got laid! No, wait; I got laid OFF. On July 31st they informed me that because of the economy and these hard times the company had decided to cut my position.
My best friend Kristi got married two days ago, and the days leading up to it were an emotional roller coaster for ME, I can't even imagine how it must have all felt for Kristi.
My dad is crazy. My mom is crazy. I certainly never had a chance.
Hello, you've reached the winter of our discontent.
I got laid! No, wait; I got laid OFF. On July 31st they informed me that because of the economy and these hard times the company had decided to cut my position.
My best friend Kristi got married two days ago, and the days leading up to it were an emotional roller coaster for ME, I can't even imagine how it must have all felt for Kristi.
My dad is crazy. My mom is crazy. I certainly never had a chance.
Hello, you've reached the winter of our discontent.
Friday, July 31, 2009
I am absolutely shaken.
I heard this story about dolphin slaughter in Japan yesterday on NPR, and I am sick about it.
Click here for the story, here for a review of the documentary film, and go here for the trailer for said documentary called The Cove that is coming out about this.
Please go here to help.
Click here for the story, here for a review of the documentary film, and go here for the trailer for said documentary called The Cove that is coming out about this.
Please go here to help.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Okay, really, I just have to say something. I don't know if any of you keep up with my little section over there called "Search Engine Terms That Bring People Here", and I don't know if you understand what that means or how it works. Here's a short explanation from a person who is pretty much a tech-dumby (me): let's say you go to Google and search for Etsy, and the first link that comes up is Etsy and you click on it and it takes you to Etsy. Okay, let's say you type in something less specific, like "boot cut jeans". After a few sponsored links, there's a link to an article on Wikipedia called "jeans" and then a link to the Levi's website, etc. etc. etc.
Well, apparently if you search "sexy old ladies" or "porn appendectomy" or "flu sex", one of the links in the list that comes up is to this blog, this one right here, and someone somewhere has actually searched these terms and ended up at my blog.
So I'm looking through this morning for anything new or interesting that all you FUCKED UP weirdos have been looking for on the World Wide Web, and someone is looking for "sexy douche pictures". And, you know, I figured I'd help a brotha out (It has to be a dude, right?).
Looking for a sexy douche can be a tricky, tricky thing.
Perhaps you're looking for the douche who might need help turning door-knobs:
Or maybe a gap-toothed douche:
Black douche:
A couple of white douchi:
Many, many douchi:
A very rich douche:
An inexperienced, future-rich douche:
Two of the stupidest douchi you've ever seen:
A couple of ironic douchi:
No really:
And then of course there is the reigning Doucho Supremo:
Sexy douche pictures: you're welcome. I like to be helpful.
Well, apparently if you search "sexy old ladies" or "porn appendectomy" or "flu sex", one of the links in the list that comes up is to this blog, this one right here, and someone somewhere has actually searched these terms and ended up at my blog.
So I'm looking through this morning for anything new or interesting that all you FUCKED UP weirdos have been looking for on the World Wide Web, and someone is looking for "sexy douche pictures". And, you know, I figured I'd help a brotha out (It has to be a dude, right?).
Looking for a sexy douche can be a tricky, tricky thing.
Perhaps you're looking for the douche who might need help turning door-knobs:
Or maybe a gap-toothed douche:
Black douche:
A couple of white douchi:
Many, many douchi:
A very rich douche:
An inexperienced, future-rich douche:
Two of the stupidest douchi you've ever seen:
A couple of ironic douchi:
No really:
And then of course there is the reigning Doucho Supremo:
Sexy douche pictures: you're welcome. I like to be helpful.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
"I am a pig-eyed horse-frightener with an electronic part. Hear me sit down."
This had me laughing out loud at work.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Keep on.
Let's keep thinking good thoughts and sending good vibes and bakin' brownies and shit for Leonard and Kristi and Chris.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Also...
Today is my mom's birthday.
Tomorrow is Leonard Peltier's parole hearing.
And today through Wednesday Kristi and Chris are taking the bar exam.
Let's think some good thoughts, people!
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