QUIZ TIME

Your roommate has been gone for several days over the holidays. You know she is home because her car is in the driveway and you were expecting her because she let you know she was back in town. You may or may not know about how she stopped for dinner with her boy.

Her bedroom door is shut. There is a car out front that looks like it could either belong to the boy or the neighbor since they have the same make, model, and possibly year, Do you...

A) Keep on walking.
B) Knock on the door and ask if she has company in there. When you don't hear her tiny voice replying "YEAH" knock again. When you don't hear her tiny voice replying "YEAH", say "okay, whatever" and wander off

Decisions and difficulties

I made a choice, about a month ago, to take in a temporary roommate in order to help put a little cushion in my bank account. Things have been tighter than I am used to and while I also cut down on my spending, I thought that an easy way to help myself would be to get off my live alone high horse and put someone in the spare room for a little bit.

I found a nice lady who's house burned down who needed a place to live with her 3 dogs until she moved to TX. (I wasn't expecting her to need a warmer house and better cable services. I have learned that not everyone likes to live with the basics and a sweater like I do)

I think I have already blogged about the adjustments I have had to make for the dogs. I'm pretty much used to them now and enjoy their attention.

Roommate has decided that I need a dog too. I agree to a point. I have been considering adding a canine to the menagerie for a few years now and I finally live in a home that id dog friendly. But I need to make sure that I can support the pup; vet bills, shots, FOOD, time, poop pickup. Since I'm not always sure how I am going to feed myself (after I feed the other animals, of course) I have been feeling as though I should wait. That the right dog will be there when I am ready.

Roommate has fallen in love with a basset hound puppy at the ghetto pet store down the street (I checked it out. I think it's a front for something else. The pet supplies are old and outdated and I wouldn't want to feed my critters anything that came out of there. I'm bothered by the fact that they sell puppies in there) She offered to go in halves with me, estimating her to be about $500.

$500. When I have dropped out of the yearly ski trip (still hoping to find a way to go, but we'll have to see what I pull out of my butt) $500 plus a lifetime of food, care, and everything else that goes along with having a dog. This isn't a spur of the moment decision.

And the shelter pets. I had already decided that if I were to get a dog, I would get one from a rescue, shelter, or off of craigslist. There are so many good dogs out there that need homes and while I would like to remove pretty little hound from the ghetto pet store, I also don't want to support the sale of puppies out of cages. He's gonna sell her and get more of the from whatever breeder he gets them from.

We went back and forth about it all evening. This morning, I woe up ready to talk to her about it. Ready to explain that the purchase of the puppy would take away half the cushion I was building by inviting her here.

But she beat me to it. She's still willing to help me get the dog, but won't hound me about it anymore (heh, hound). And I? need to stick to my guns.

Mostly because I like to complain. Mostly

Living with three dogs and one other human is taking some getting used to. The human? Not so difficult. There are things she does that are different than the way I would do them, but for the most part, I don't really have any issues. I think it's funny that she showers B and I with the condoms she picks up at the gay bars, and she's been in a pretty good moo for the week that she's been here. She's also very thankful to be here.

The dogs on the other hand, those are a little more challenging. They are good dogs, really. But there are things that dogs do that I tend to forget about when I am on craigslist looking at the pet ads and thinking that perhaps I might need another furry companion. Like shed. Two aussies and a golden shed a lot. We vacuum almost every day but still I show up to work covered in dog hair. And breathe heavy. With doggie breath. and muddy footprints on the kitchen floor right after I've mopped. I've had to learn to put the garbage up on the counter when I leave. I think it will stay there are long as they stay here.

Then poor River got tangled in my yarn last night and while I didn't freak, I kinda considered putting them outside until I finished my project. I didn't. But I thought about it. There are two rooms in the house that have been designated dog free. I feel bad during times like now when they have been alone all day and I am holed up in my office, sending them out every time they try to sneak in. They don't even try to come into my bedroom, and for that they are good doggies. I'm not certain if they have been fed this evening as there is no sign that my roommate came home to do so. I have been gone most of the day. I end up feeding them a lot, but I am kind of hoping rack up karma for when I go out of town for a few days next week.

It's a good experiment, this. And I am learning a lot. I'm glad it's a short experiment. We will have to see how it all turns out.

Follower. Then, Funny

I joined FaceBook. I was resisting. Not one person was able to convince me. Then two of my Americorps buddies ganged up and got me to join. Now I am consumed. And reconnecting.

I was contacted by an old friend with whom I had a falling out several years ago. Since I'm pretty sure I blogged about it, I went looking for the post. In the now, he contacted me and we have been chatting all evening. It feels really good to be back in contact with him.

I didn't find the post. What I did find was this old post. Funny how things come around in a circle...

http://ginamonster.blogspot.com/2005/05/if-someone-said-to-you.html

You know, because I really did try t convince work that I should be able to wear roller skates to get around quicker...

New adventures

Due to the miniscule amount in my bank account and the fact that I am living from paycheck to weekly paycheck these days, I decided to take in a temporary roommate. and her three dogs.

I like her, and the dogs are good. It will take a lot of getting used to.

And today... Today, Latisha ate something icky out of the bathroom trash. something REALLY icky. and I can't decide if I should interrupt study time to tell new roommate, who warned me that she likes to eat the bathroom trash or pray that she pukes it or poops it... I feel bad because I forgot to shut the bathroom door. I also kind of hope I FIND the item somewhere (soon).

I just discovered a "new" place to giggle

Now, the article is pretty good but the title, oh sweet mary, the title!


see more pwn and owned pictures

Sheepish

I really need to stop blogging when I am angry and frustrated. B and I had a nice evening yesterday and will spend a bit more time together tonight, I hope, after he gets back from his mom's house. Since it's already in my head that it's possible he won't make it over tonight, I am not frustrated or upset, just going about my business; which should include packing, but I don't feel like it at the moment.

Thoughts

I'm learning about myself over the last couple of days that I am far needier than I give myself credit for. Or that I ever thought possible.

I am accustomed to being on my own and in many ways, I like it that way. I don't have to worry about then I am going to see someone because there is no one to see. I don't have to worry about when he will call because there is no one to call. Being alone has become the easy way out. When I am alone, I see myself as independent, if not a little lonely.

Enter the flavor of the month and suddenly, I find myself wanting to see him as often ass possible. Not every day, but every few days. I find myself bitter at Friday nights alone. Frustrated when there are no plans for Saturday evening either. Pissed that I'm going away for a week and there has been no attempt at visiting, even though the excuses are valid.

And what does that say about me? I'm certainly not staring at the phone, I'm playing in my fabric. And maybe next I will visit with my wheel. I haven't spun in a couple of months and I have a very nice yarn in mind for my brother's Christmas present. Oliver needs to be let out. The kitchen is dirty...And all I can seem to think about is, when will he have time for me?

I feel pathetic. And ridiculous. Petty. And maybe just a little bit normal?

Then I wonder. Was I wrong to give it another chance? Did I agree to try only to be placed somewhere further back in limbo? Somewhere between dating and the hated text message relationship?

some things are better verbatum

this was my message from B this morning:


Bonjour, Comment vas-tu? Je suis bien. Il est tres froid ici. J'ai dormi bien la nuit dernière. J'espère que vous avez un jour grand.

B

PS. Hola. Como estas?


And my reply

Ok. I'm going to do my best with translations here. I'm good this morning. I'm sorry to hear that you are cold but am glad you had a good night last night. either that or you are talking about food. Then there was something about me and big. Are you talking about my boobs? because I remember that feet start with a p but I can no longer spell them in french.


giggle

And then what happened?

B came over after the drama and we talked. It was good. He understands why I was upset. We are going to try and work things out.

I am that girl

I've always tried my best not to bring any drama into the lives of the men that I date. It happens, I'm human, I'm hardly perfect. But I have tried to be as non demanding as possible. I lay out my rules in the beginning, and move ahead into the fun of being in a relationship, casual or serious.

Pardon me if I am feeling a little dramatic at the moment.

You see, when I make plans with someone, I keep them. It's rare that I cancel. I might be a few minutes late, but I call and warn well ahead of time, and am generally no more than 15 minutes late, which, really is not okay, so I try to be on time. (The Spanksgiving celebration is an exception but it took 5 hours to roast the turkey and another 45 minutes to make the broccoli casserole. My oven isn't big enough for the both of them.)

Nearly an hour after he was supposed to be here, I got a message from B. He's fighting with his ex wife. He's not sure when he will be here. In his defense, 15 minutes before he was supposed to be here, he sent a message that he was going to be late. And I felt more than a bit peeved about it because being late is his m.o. 15 minutes after he was supposed to be here I sent a message that said "?" HE replied that he would be leaving in a few minutes.

I don't know what the fight is about but this isn't the first time she has waylaid our plans. I'm not just upset with her though, I'm upset with him. Because this isn't the first time. Since we have no commitment I don't know what I can say. But it's been nearly two months of dating so I feel like I should be able to say something. Something like, hey, this isn't okay. Or, will you tell her you have plans and can't argue about what ever it is right now. I mean, that's okay right? because what isn't okay is me sitting at home all upset and I'm-not-hungry-anymore and bitching on the internet.

I don't want to add more stress to his world. He tells me that my house is the only place he can go to get away. But continuing to say it's okay? Continues to make me a doormat.

Seester says it's time to cut ties. That's the worst part for me. I don't like cutting ties. I feel like I'm giving up. Plus, I'm a coward. I don't like to hurt people so I suck it up and let things work themselves out. Except that once. That one time, I said something, and the repair wasn't what I hoped at all.

This issue? It's not going to work itself out. And He needs to know that it's not okay. That is quite obvious. But is Seester right? is this the end? Or do I tell him what the problem is and hope he fixes it?

And risk being disappointed? Again...

Waiting. Again

I'm not the most timely person in the world. That's putting it lightly. But, um, I wait a lot. I know you have things going on, but I do too. And I've been waiting for half an hour. You aren't here yet. And I'm hungry. Last time, I went ahead and ate. Please don't ask this of me every time. I don't want to start weighing the trade offs.

It was a lovely evening except...

B and I went on a wander about last night. It was the first time he and I had gotten the opportunity to get out of town a bit. We were supposed to leave early since I had a half day at work, but Thursday he found out he had a parent teacher conference for the kindergardener. I was not happy. I griped to my sister and wife. Then I realized that the delay would give me plenty of time to go get my oil changed. it was a good 6 months overdue. bad girl.

I let him plan, partially because I was just looking forward to quality time together and mostly because I don't have any places here that are special to me. I could entertain him for a week in San Diego, but ask me where to go for an evening in Reno or the outskirts, and I haven't a clue. Thus, I didn't have any idea where he would take me.

But he turned up the road. The one that leads past the Cowboy's house. and we stopped at Bucks where I am almost certain the girl who lives in the studio at Cowboy's house was lurking. And then we drove past it. I haven't done so in all these months. I'm not going to pretend I haven't thought about it, but I do try not to be a freaky ass stalker chick and I know that there is only pain up that road.

No, he wasn't there. Neither was the horse trailer so he was off with Tricksie. B caught me looking but didn't say anything.

I'm not sure if he knew that it put me in a bit of a funk for the rest of the evening. Which was wonderful and would have been terribly romantic and lovely if I hadn't been in a funk. I tried to hide it. Sometimes I hide things well.

We went to a place on Slide Mountain just below Mt Rose Ski Resort where you can see all the way to Carson City and the whole of Washoe Lake. You can follow the lights up Pyramid Highway and watch the planes take off from the airport. It's where the Hang Gliders go to take a flying leap. We sat for a bit and waited for the moon to rise but it was being extra slow so we drove the rest of the way up the hill and went to the lake. He showed me this and that and we picked up a pizza, stopping at a park to eat at the water's edge. We took a peek a his office and then went to Squaw Valley. It was pretty there. I would like to see it in the day time. I reminded me a bit of Big Bear. And of Yosemite.

We wandered around looking at the places he loves, something I would like to do down south with someone sometime. All in all it was a pretty good evening. I enjoyed myself and the company. If not for studio girl, I would have avoided looking and could probably for avoided the funk. I'm really trying to focus on the positives. And the man I am with, not the ones who didn't want me. sometimes, they just creep up on me.

The infamous turkey

If you follow me on Twitter at all, which, you all would be if I still had a feed here, (I took it off because I wanted to tweet about B but there was another fellow I was talking to and he read my blog and I wanted to tell him personally that I had met someone, not have him find out here. That seemed wrong to me) you would know that for the RRG Spanksgiving I cooked the turkey. When I volunteered to cook the turkey, I didn't know that the ref, Run Jeremy, who was providing the bird (He volunteered to bring it, but didn't know he had to cook it) was going to provide a 20 pound turkey. 20 fucking pounds!! Thankfully B was here to help me take the guts out and lift it around some of the time because that fucker was heavy. But, here it is, in all it's perfect turkey goodness. And let me tell you, it was as tasty as it looks. AND I am also a stuffing genius.

I'm gonna pepper the internet...

Because this is frickin fantastic

And mildly safe for work. You might want to turn it down. Better yet, watch at home.

This started me leaking again

Messages between the boy and I, and as I sit here posting here and texting him, truer words have never been spoken:

"I have some issues left over, I guess. They usually come up when I think I am fine"

My goodness, I think he might be reading my mind.

Little Purges

We all know that I tend to hold on for a very long time to past relationships and people who have moved out of my life. That I never stop caring, that I never stop wondering how they are doing even if the end caused me a lot of hurt. It's something I work on every time a memory pops into my head. To live in the now, to appreciate the memories but to move forward and not let memories, which can sometimes be skewed the way we want them to have been, stop me from growing as a person and inviting people into my life that share in my joys now, as opposed to people who I remember fondly from several years ago. I'm not talking about the people I haven't talked to in a couple of months because we are busy but can pick up anytime, I'm talking about the ones who didn't return my last communication or I didn't return theirs, because it was time for them to pass out of my life whether I wanted them to or not.

I happened across an old email. I know why I saved it, I just wasn't expecting it. When I read it again, it made me cry. And when I finished reading what might have been one of the most courageous correspondences I have ever composed, and the reply, I finally did the right thing. I hit delete.

Every time I read those old emails, I get hurt all over again. And that isn't healthy.

It's always possible that those people may return to my orbit. They are always welcome. Most people are in my life because I want them there. I rarely kick anyone out. But, I think I need to work on recognizing that relationships change. And the past belongs in the past. And ancient emails belong in the trash.

Because it's convenient?

In the months since I moved into my cute little house with the tree out front, I have reverted back to my teenage hyper green-ness. As Rebturtle will attest, I was the president of my high school environmental club and quite rabid about environmental issues. Heaven forbid you should pull a clump of grass from the ground in front of me. After school was over, I headed strait into the Americorps*NCCC where I spent 10 months pulling invasive plants in the woods and building trails, among other things. I graduated from the program fully intending to change the world! and do something huge! And...

I discovered that there is no recycling service in most apartment complexes. And gosh, it's really frustrating to have to take my cans and paperboard to the center. Plus, it annoyed the boyfriend. And I didn't drink that much soda anyway.

And so I languished. Promising myself that when I had a house I would RECYCLE! and when I learned about it, COMPOST! Three houses later, I do. I think it's fun to think about whether this or that will go into the compost bin which is currently pretty well full of Bunny poo (Its a very small bin) and the Worms! They live on my counter and eat leftovers! (and need a bigger bin too) And the baskets outside! all I have to do it put stuff in there and I KNOW it will get turned into something else. I just wish I could compost all those leaves that are falling off my trees.

So, I was talking to a coworker the other day. And I was getting all excited about the things that I try to do to reduce my carbon footprint (namely, my heater generally hovers around 64 when I am home. I think I am channeling Calvin's Dad) And he said the following:

"I don't do any of that because I figure people like you will make up for it"

I went after him with a box of saw blades. Ok, it was empty (ooh, I could compost that!)

And then, as I walked away, I asked myself, if it weren't convenient, would I let people like my Seester who is more conscious than I, carry my load too? And when will we wake up as a society and care for reals??

This helps me...

www.idealbite.com

DARN!!

DARN IT ALL TO HECK> I MEAN, FUCK!

heh.

That helped.

Remember how in the last post which you probably haven't ready yet...(Go do it why doncha...)

I was all proud of myself for buying Quickbooks and entering the 21st century?? HMMM?

APPARENTLY...

I need to upgrade my OS or something. I know it's been a couple of years now since I bought my computer and that Tiger is now available and has been for like, forever, but Damnit! I wanted to play with my new toy!

Radomness

I should be working. Not working at work, but working at my business which I can smell so strongly from here as it cures on the curing racks.

Soap. I've been soaping again. I created instead of skating last wednesday and although I feel a little guilty for missing practice, I know it was the right thing to do because I used my time wisely.

Today I invested money I don't have in my business. For the first time in years I spent money on something that wasn't supplies, postage or Licenses. I finally bought QuickBooks. It's time to move into the 21st century and start tracking things correctly. I hope it can do all the things I know how to do in my head. I also bought a program that will help me send email newsletters. 21st century. Email has power. I hope...I think...I have not installed them yet. There's a batch of Butt Soap staring at me. Waiting to be wrapped. I brought the wrapping home today. Something new I want to try. Catalog pages that would have gone to the compactor and then to the dump. Extra catalogs that a company sends me. Thousands of pages of waste. The catalog is a good foot thick and has been holding down the floor in my office for a couple of months because the housekeepers don't throw away stuff left NEXT to the can and because when they didn't, I didn't have the heart. I hope my customers appreciate the gesture. It seems like a better thing to do than to buy new blank paper to wrap in. It's just going to get thrown away anyway.

Boy, boy, there's still a boy. and he is yet unnamed because I just can't call him China Man despite the dark comedy of the conversation that inspired the name. We are still enjoying each other. Learning what is safe. There isn't a whole lot I consider safe. I rarely trust anyone that far. I've been remembering a lot of the past lately. Trying to move forward. Always trying to move forward. I won't let it hold me back but I won't forget the lessons either. He doesn't need to know those things. It's too early in the game. I know there are things he doesn't tell me too. I wonder but won't push. It's part of the life he has when he isn't with me.

How dark I sound to myself. perhaps some punkin ice cream will break me out of this odd mood before the boy arrives. And hats. I haven't made a hat today. Tiny hats for needy babies. I will try to remember to take a picture of them when the pile is done. I'm at 4. My goal at the end of the week is 10.

thanks chickie

Thanks to chickie, I had to get on peepalot. because I'm a follower like that. I think it's a never before (on here) seen picture so um, go find it, I'm scantily clad and wearing fishnets.

http://peepalot.com/r/204

Updates

I've been pretty busy with derby. We aren't bouting again until the end of January/ beginning of February, but I still have practice and events. Except tonight. Tonight I needed a break. I needed to not do derby, whether it was crafting or attending something for one evening. There's a launch party tomorrow night for Reno MetroMix, and a party at Tonic Friday night. I just needed to be Gina for a night. What did I do?

I made TWO batches of soap. YAY! That's all I have molds for. But I really need to get back into the swing of soaping. and spinning. I have not spun in weeks. I bought fabric today for holiday gifts. I'm really excited about what I will be making. Can't tell you though, I've got family watching.

I'm seeing someone. I've been avoiding mentioning it because I had been talking to another nice fellow and well, I happened to go on a date with one before the other. And we hit it off. Since I know he's been reading, I thought it best to tell him before he read it here. The dangers of being online.

I can't seem to come up with a snappy nickname because nothing really sticks out as strange or quirky. Sure, he rides a motorcycle, but he's no Biker Bob (thank goodness!) His job isn't anything unusual like Louie (Louie runs a cab company-hence the nickname) Mostly, he just sits back and watches me run. Which is what I need right now. Not that he doesn't have his own stuff going on, he has plenty of that, but right now, he seems to understand that I'm on the go all the time. And he's content to be on the go with me.

He's so much what I said I would never date. Complete with three kids. I haven't met them. I can wait. It's better to. It still freaks me out. But I realized when he (and the other fellow, who has 2 kids and seemed equally as nice) contacted me that at 31, the likelihood of me meeting someone who doesn't have kids is low. And, maybe I should be more open minded. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And it hasn't been so far. With the possible exception of a babysitter who isn't afraid to interrupt our evening because she's bored and wants to go home.

But meeting them. That can wait. I want to make sure that I am not a passing instance. They don't need to have random women in and out of their lives and I don't need to get attached to kids. Look how much it hurts to know I will likely never see the Cowboy's dog again. I miss that dog, dangit.

He treats me well though. Better than I have been treated in a long time. We have nice conversations and he seems truly interested in me. He actually pays attention to my stories (as evidenced by his memory of the random things I say) and oohs and aahs just the right amount over my projects. We shall see, we shall see.

I now present to you...

Abnoxiously Cuteness. Oliver is obviously my bunny because he likes to pretend like he's living a literary life. Since he can't type, he has made a spot for himself among books. You can also tell that he's a bunny after my own heart because he likes to climb into boxes. I don't fully understand my desire to climb into boxes, but I'm glad I'm not the only one around here who can't resist.

Where did I go and why couldn't you go too?

I apologize for the sudden restriction on my blog over the last couple of days. My dad called and wanted the roller girl website so he could check us out. I knew if he dug deep enough...So I disappeared for a couple of days. But I am back now. I didn't like that at all!

Generally, for the best

So, my friend Dennis asked me today whether I had seen that place where I used to work on the news this morning. Apparently, they announced that they are going to lay some people off.

After thinking about it for a bit, and I am going to admit that not all my thoughts and comments were kind, but I will get over that eventually, I realized a few things. And I was thankful, actually, for my good fortune in getting let go in time to find new employment.

1. If I had stayed there, I would have continued to try and buy a house. It is likely that I would have been able to find one in my price-range-at-the-time.

2. Chances are, I would have been laid off in the coming weeks.

3. I would have lost my house. And that whole dream of ownership which would have been turned upside down.

I am hoping that these realizations help me to get over my anger towards that place as I am in a MUCH better place now and feel secure in my little house. Even though my office is a disaster area.

An unwelcome adventure

I received a phone call on Tuesday from an old friend. Someone I have been corresponding with for about 10 years. This man has children my age and we have never had a romantic relationship. It has always been very casual, exchanging stories and pictures. We met when he applied for a position at my company. I made all the travel arrangements and even though he didn't get the job and I didn't remain in that position, we continued to correspond. Occasionally, over the years, he would invite me out to dinner with him and his children and a couple of times to rugby matches when he was to be in my area.

He called Tuesday afternoon to say that he would be passing through on his way home from Sacramento and he wanted to know if I would like to go to dinner. I was to choose something casual, so I picked a brewery near my house where the food is good and the prices are nice. The following is an edited copy of what I sent to my Derby Wife the next day. I have changed names where needed.


He showed up right after I sent you the message about smiling at old guys. Hugged me hello, and we had dinner. During dinner, he said he wanted to see my house. No biggie, he’s on my Christmas card list, I’ve always felt comfortable with him. Then, when we left, he gave me another hug and pulled me in close and kinda laid his head on mine. Like a side hug, you know? When I tried to pull away, he held on a bit, then acted as if he wanted to walk with his arm around my waist.

In my world, that’s a rather intimate gesture reserved for very close friends, family members, boyfriends. I skipped away.

Then he made a comment about driving over Donner Summit today and getting in the mood to eat someone, and boy didn’t I look good enough to eat (danger, Will Robinson!) By this time I was several feet away and I told him to just keep over there.

He followed me back to the house, I gave him the grand tour, ushering him out of my room when I realized he was looking at my underwear on the floor, and we chatted in the living room for awhile. (I was thankful for the distraction of Oliver and for the fact that I keep the living room window shade open) He seemed a little hurt when I pulled up a chair, but I knew there wasn’t room on the couch for the both of us.

(Note: I have a love seat. There is a picture of it Here there isn't a whole lot of room on it and he took up more than one cushion)

About 9 he suggested that he might be keeping me up. I agreed. He then asked if I was going to ask him to stay.

I had thought about it. I like to think that any of my friends are welcome to use the spare room if they need a place to go, but after the whole hugging scene in front of the restaurant, I didn’t think that was a good idea. He hadn’t made any hotel plans, (I asked) and he was already there, so I set him up in the spare room, apologizing that the sheets weren’t changed after my mom used them. (I was NOT expecting company!!)

Hug goodnight, two kisses on the cheek, and a bit of a snuggle into my neck.

I asked to take my shower first and did so, locking the doors to my bedroom and to the bathroom when I was in there. I didn’t run around in my towel, and put PJs on strait away.

He knew my door was locked because after his shower, he knocked and tried to open my door. I answered, asked if he needed anything, he said no and said goodnight again. Kiss on the cheek.

I locked the door again behind me and had a fitful nights sleep. I was snoozing as usual this morning when he called from the living room. So I got up (actually, this turned out to be a good thing because I then had time to feed myself in addition to the critters.) and we said our goodbyes. Since I didn’t have time for breakfast, he left. Before he went, he said that he had hoped we could sleep together. “Not like that”, he said, “just share”. I let him know that I am an alone sleeper.

I have tried to figure out how I might have invited this behavior, but I really don’t think I did. I don’t act towards him any different than I do towards anyone else. I try to avoid putting myself in weird situations, it seems that they find me instead…


Quite frankly, I can't figure out how it is that he might think this is okay. Even now, a few days later, I am bothered by my encounter. I don't like to feel uncomfortable in my own house, and I most certainly did. I also don't generally sleep with my friends. There are a few exceptions to this, girl friends, family members. I'm hoping I've learned my lesson from anyone else...ahem. But certainly not random men who expect to pop into town and stay at my house!

At this point. I don't know how to respond to his emails. He thanked me for a nice time, and gave no indication that he might feel badly for making me uncomfortable. Or that he even realizes that he did. My friend at work says i should tell him he crossed the line, but I don't like confrontation and feel like it would be so much easier to never respond to him again. But then, that tends to be my reaction. I think the best thing to do is to give it a few more days and see how I feel about it. It will always creep me out, but whether I want to make an issue of it is a different story.

In other news, I haven't spoken to or texted Louie since last sunday so I'm thinking that's over. it wasn't working anyhow.

Another, Another phone call

yeah. Apparently he needed to tell me everything is ok so I am off the worry hook a little. Except for the medical things. I'm still worried about those.

Another phone call

Janelle called again last night. She apologized for the last call and then proceeded to lay it on me again. This time, she wanted me to know that she has ended her relationship with my father. She said she just can't live in a car anymore. That the stress of being homeless, the frustration of not being able to accept jobs because his ego can't handle it, the constant boredom of sitting in the library all day every day, has finally gotten to her. After a year of doing this, she is done.

I'm not sure if she wanted me to applaud her (I do, I just wasn't going to say it) for being strong or beg her to give him another chance, but she felt like I needed to know.

She also needed me to know that he is having health problems. High Cholesterol. High Blood Pressure. His diabetes is off the chart; he has been to the hospital a lot for it lately. His bottom gums are turning black (anyone have a clue what this means? Because I don't know but I know it's bad) other things surprisingly too private to mention.

And can I call him on the phone after I put money on it so it is active and so he knows someone loves him?

No. I can't. Not really. The emotional part is too much. The financial part is too much. I have nothing to say to him these days. What am I going to tell him? That I am living comfortably in a 3 bedroom home all by myself? With a spare room for guests, but no he can't come live with me? That I won't send him the $5 I made selling a drop spindle? (totally proud of that, by the way)

The weight drops upon me. I cannot do this. I don't know the pin number (I can't remember what my grandmother and before her my great grandparent's phone number was, I can barely remember to eat breakfast in the morning. Or what I wore yesterday) And even if I knew, I have to pay rent. Bills. Groceries. The things that I need to keep me and my critters alive and healthy.

She's worried that he will be suicidal. That he will take all those pills he has. Pain meds for his knee. Whatever is floating around on the streets these days.

I don't want him to die. I don't want him to hurt. I don't want to have to worry about him anymore either. I don't want to feel guilty every time I go out and have Wendy's because I could sent that $5 to him and maybe he can eat a little better that day. Or have a gallon of gas to get to a job interview. But he wouldn't, I know that. I know that every cent I have sent has been spent in a way that I likely wouldn't approve of. And I don't think it's right for me (and my Seester) to feel badly that we cannot support him.

I'm tired of that. I live a good life here. I am SO BLESSED. And I try to share when I can. But I feel as though I have no more to give him.

And I feel guilty for it. I feel like I have turned my back on him. That I am abandoning him in his time of need. That a little bit of fat trimming on my part could really make a difference for him. I don't NEED new bearings. (actually, I kinda do. maybe not the expensive ones I want, but I do need new ones) Maybe I could sell some fiber or yarn. But really? I need the money I would earn from that to support me. Me Me Me. It all comes back to me. I have to take care of myself and yet I feel like I should be sharing with him. Yet I don't. because he isn't helping himself.

And he didn't share with me when he had plenty. And I feel bad for feeling bitter about that. I know I always will. I will resent him for the rest of my life, and that will eat at me too. Because I don't want to resent anyone. I don't want to harbor anger. Especially over money. How would I react differently to this situation if there hadn't been any money? Would he be homeless now if he hadn't had plenty to blow through?

And so you see my struggle. again.

Doing the right thing is hard when you don't know what the right thing is.

My Own Damn Fault

I got a notice from the DMV not too long ago. It said I needed to verify my insurance. I didn't do it right away.

I got a certified letter from the DMV today...I haven't actually received it yet, but I know what it says.

Funny, I must have known because this very issue kept me up last night.

I have non one to blame for the fee but myself...

Reno Roller Girls Saturday September 20!

We're bouting again! Doors open at 6:30, bout starts at 7:30 at Roller Kingdom in Reno! Come out and play with us!

I am blue with excitement!

Dear Bush Administration,

I'm just wondering why you think it's ok for the "government" and by that I mean me and my fellow taxpayers, to buy up all this bad debt. Seems to me, and I am hardly a financial genius, that buying it doesn't make it go away. In fact, it seems like taking on that bad debt means you will be at risk of the same bankruptsy you are resuing the mortgage companies from.

It seems like you are telling us that by buying it it will go away. But like other "toxic" items, redistributing it doesn't make it go away, it only redistributes the problem.

Now, I know that people are losing their homes. And that the economy is tanking fast. That what happens in our economy affects the world and I DON'T EVEN WANT to look at my 401K because I know it isn't looking so good.

But I don't know if continued government bailout is the answer. It seems like the "easy way" and a continuance of the very issue that got us in this predicament in the first place.

Buying more than we could handle, and figuring the goverment would protect us if we got in trouble.

I realize that I only have a high school diploma and a certificate in Massage Therapy. I am also aware that I tend to sleep in class, which is precicely why I didn't go to college. But I do remember something in Economics class about supply and demand. And it seems as though this country has forgotten the neato little fulcrum drawing provided by countless high school teachers. (I didn't forget, Mr Haiman!) It also seems to have forgotten that credit is a neat and powerful thing if used wisely. And a dangerous toy of used unwisely.

It seems to me like I am paying for other people's mistakes. That many folks are getting away with being irresponsible. The banks for giving out loans more feely than the guy on Halloween who buys full size candy bars and dumps them into your bag by the case. The citizens for knowingly taking on more house and toys than they can afford.

I'll never forget the first time I got prequalified for a loan. I went to my friend and said, "What can you do about getting me into this house?" I prequalified for $160,000. the house was $400,000 for a two bedroom 1 bath on a little bit of land. In hicksville. And she said we could swing it. That I could state my income higher than it was and get into that house if I really wanted it. I decided it was too much. Smart move for me, if I still lived in the neighborhood, I could probably buy the house for half that.

I made a smart choice. But I still have to pay for other's mistakes. I'm not sure how that is protecting my interests if that is indeed what the government is supposed to be doing.

Sincerely,
A concerned constituant

stitching block

So, I'm working on another tea towel tour-Where you send a towel all around and everyone stitches on it-and um, I'm stumped. See, we have the opportunity to choose a theme (I generally just like to see what people want to do on my towels) The towel in hand? Her theme is...

Vintage-pre 1950's (ok, no problem!) Places named after a women.

Now, I think I might be able to make it look vintage-y if I didn't feel like I needed to fill the rest of the request.

Actually, I'm feeling a little cranky about this one which never bodes well for my performance. And the towel is already behind...

HELP??

Trying to make sense of it all

Received my usual after work call from Louie. I wondered if I would. I am confused. I wonder if last night's kiss had anything to do with the horrid dragon breath I woke myself up with around 4 am. Good god, I thought something died in there.

I forgot to mention that my father called yesterday. It was kind of him to remember my birthday. he's actually been pretty good about that lately. I wasn't quite sure what to say. beyond "thank you". It wasn't that long ago that his gf called at 6:30 am so that I could hear them argue and then again. And then again at 7 to tell me all about what is going on between them before she hung up on me.

I'm not really sure what she expects me to do. If her accusations are true that he is strung out again, then I am certainly not sending money. Not that I really can. Or that I want to despite the guilt that I somehow "allow" him to live on the street. I know it isn't my fault, it's an ingrained guilt. I try to ignore it. Even if his only trouble outside of his lack of home or job is his lack of shoes, I tend to think he prefers to be without shoes. He is, after all, the king of the flip flop. Outside of weddings and funerals, I don't really recall him being in anything else. Except that his diabetes makes a lack of proper footwear a really poor decision.

Sigh.

At least she hung up before I had a chance to remind her that he chooses to be this way (yes, he does.) and that I have myself to care for, and that I can't very well buy him shoes in Reno or send him a gift certificate when I don't have an address for him.

Another year gone by

Another year, another birthday. I am officially in my thirties, even though technically, I have been there for awhile. It was a good weekend.

My mom flew up on Thursday and I took Friday off. We ate at restaurants and prepared for the BBQ I planned for Saturday partially to celebrate my day and partially to give my mom the opportunity to meet my friends, most importantly my wife. Wifey has become such an integral part of my life...We toured my warehouse on Friday and drove to the nearest brothel to have lunch since they advertise that they are a restaurant, saloon and museum. Bu they didn't answer at the gate so we left. WE spent the evening watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and drinking iced blended Baileys.

Poo arrived Saturday.

Saturday was a wonderful sunny day. I don't know what I would have done without Momi and Poo who helped me get the homestead ready to the party. My guests were plentiful and had a good time, I got tipsy but not too drunk, and we all enjoyed the goodies that fell out of the pinata Wifey brought. Louie was unable to attend due to a previous arrangement. But he did call and invite me to dinner for my birthday which made me feel all gooshy and happy.

I spent the morning skating. First at the skate park and then twice around the marina. My mom overheard some lady making nasty comments about my skirt which was short enough to see my underwear-you know, the ones I was wearing over nylons and over another pair of underwear. I am conservative for a derby girl!!

It was hard taking my mom back to the airport, but I had my date with Louie to look forward to and I dressed carefully in a demure dress and pearls. I was going for the opposite of my earlier outfit just in case I ran into that lady again. You never know. Reno is pretty small. Olive Garden is popular.

Dinner was nice and we made small talk as usual. I invited him to stay for a movie but he needed to go to bed early. He came in for a little while and we made more small talk. I was hoping for birthday kisses, he wanted to see what happens when you let Oliver out of his cage. I tried leaning near, perhaps I smell like garlic. Regardless, I think I have been downgraded to friend based on the goodnight kiss he planted on my cheek.

I shouldn't be upset. But I always am.

Better this way anyway.

There goes Mr Finnigan; begin again.

So much to say. Not sure how to say it. I'll say that part two of the bunny adventure is up coming and it has a good ending. But that will have to wait for another day.

I got my drum carder the other day and have carded 1 batt. I'm working on another. I'm going to have one bigger arm. again.

I am confused by men. Not that that is anything new. It's not that I don't know what to do, it's the fear of doing it and the hope that I am wrong and that time will fix the issues. Same old thing, different guy, different issues. Truth is that I am spending a lot of energy on someone who only really seems sort of interested. And I think I need more than that. I've never thought of myself as being a needy person, of being a woman who needs constant attention. If I hadn't been told on more than one occasion that I am indeed low-to-no maintenance, I would argue with myself that no woman is going to think she is high maintenance or needy. In some ways Louie does give me attention. Via text. And last night, for example, he stopped by while my cousins were here. Little efforts go really far in my mind. I know he was tired.

After a couple of months of dating, I would like to think we would have more in depth conversations. When we do speak, our conversations mostly consist of work and everyday things. I miss talking about politics, religion, why exactly it is that Grover has to announce that he is cute and furry when he is, quite obviously, cute and furry. I can't get through the apparent wall. Maybe there is no wall. I'm not used to having a difficult time finding conversation. I like to think I can talk about almost anything. It seems like only the superficial things come up. Occasionally, we'll tease each other about getting old or favorite baseball teams, but that is rare. For a moment, during those times, it feels normal between us. That doesn't last long.

I would like to see him more. That is a little more difficult. But at the very least, it would be nice to think that he wants to see me more.

What else do I want? I don't know. These are things I should be telling him, but I can't. It's cowardly, I know, but I don't feel right discussing it on the phone. These are not the sort of things you text. I'm certainly not going to bring it up with my cousins in the next room. When will we be alone again? I don't know, actually. There have been no plans. No invites, no what are you doings. My mom will be here all next weekend and we don't tend to see each other during the week. Before I know it, another confused month will go by. I'll be writing these words again in October and you all, dear readers will be rolling your eyes again, knowing you have heard it all before.

You have already heard it all before. I'm tired of hearing it too.

When will I admit to myself that I am simply better off alone?

The Great Bunny Odyssey

Somehow, the other day, I got it into my head that rather than a dog or a cat, I should get a bunny. A house bunny. An ANGORA house bunny so that I could spin (and sell) the fiber. But mostly because I, love bunny. Remember Jack? I miss Jack and all his bunny goodness. And Baby? Loves furry critters too.

So I set out on a search. Craigslist, petfinder, no one had an angora nearby. The I had an idea. I looked on craigslist in Sacramento. And found some bun.

I contacted the woman, and was assured that her farm is disease free. I don't want to go through the heartache I went through with Jack. We agreed to meet. Yesterday.

My darling wife would go with me.

What I didn't know was that it's HELL to get out of Reno on Labor Day. Labor Day after the Rib Cook off. Labor Day after the Burning Man Festival. It's fun watching the burners go by though...We turned off at Truckee and decided to go down 50 instead of the 80. Scenic. It was an extra hour. I wasn't too worried though because I hadn't heard from the bunny lady. I didn't have her phone number, all our correspondence had been through email, but I had left mine. The trip around the lake was lovely.

Do you know how many people leave Tahoe on Labor Day?

This trip turned out to be a huge mistake planning wise. But Wifey and I always have fun together and we both agreed that we should turn around. We tried to find a farm in Carson, Minden, or Gardnerville, but alas. I remain bunless.

Until Thursday. I spoke to the Bunlady today. We meet on Thursday in Auburn. She will bring the loot. Wifey will be in attendance.

Then I found her phone number in my purse. I had it all along.

Stay tuned for the Great Bunny Caper

decidedly NOT gleeful

Have you ever wanted to talk about something but couldn't because you were told under confidence and even though the person you want to talk to knows nothing of the situation and you aren't using names, you realize that you STILL can't talk about it because something in your head tells you it's a BAD IDEA?

Yeah. Me too.

Rollin with the Bombers

I posted the following to a new blog at Derby Nation.com No, I am NOT quitting here, I just want to write there too. But this one was good, or at least better than anything I have spit out in awhile. So I thought I would share it with you too. And pictures of my ass.



Last weekend a group of my Sisters and I drove over the hill to San Francisco to skate on the Bay Bombers Banked track.
Since I had never skated on a banked track and we aspire to be able to set up Rollerbych's track and bout on it, I was especially excited to get there.
It was hard. Tiring. Frustrating when you fall and slide right down into the infield when you know that you should be able to pop right back up. But the instruction we received from Dave was invaluable and while the Bay Bombers' derby is a little different than ours, they were there for the same reason we all do it. The love of the skate, the sport, the show.
It was funny how Dave insisted that we introduce ourselves by our real name. He didn't seem to want to call us Crazy J Danger, Flash Crash, D Rail Her. He was surprised to learn my name isn't really Grace. And the quiet comments about our fishnets were amusing. The louder comments about wearing more clothes when our asses would squeal across the masonite made me smile. Modern Derby Girls are proud of every bruise, every speckled rink rash. I showed my boss pictures of my wounds from that day. Only for Derby would my supervisor know what kind of underwear I wear.
Watching them that night, I knew I don't really want to be the same kind f derby they are. I want my game to be unpredictable, I want to hit with everything I have.
And, I want to still be doing it in my 50's and 60's because if there is anything I learned on Saturday, it's that you are never too old for this sport. And the railing hurts.

Alone or with someone

I would really like to go to the fair. It's a small state fair, kinda crappy, but I love to look at the critters and the crafts. I like to look at the stuff people are selling and resist buying. I simply love the fair.

I consider it a social event, and although I tell myself I can go by myself, I know I won't spend as much time there if I am alone. I'll spend ten bucks to be there for 20 to 30 minutes, make the rounds, maybe twice (yes, it's that small) and take off. So I sent a message out to the roller girls.

Yesterday several people wanted to go. Today? I don't have quite that response. Wifey is busy with her boy and I consider that an excellent excuse. Patty has also made plans with her boy, although she said she would try to convince him to go. I think her boy is fun to tease so that would be a blast. Flash Crash is out of town.

That's all the response I got. And I am a little hurt by it. I can't help it. But I suppose this is the kind of relationship I have fostered; not close. I don't usually get close to people. A response would have been nice. Via text or email. I sent the invite out via both. This is more effort than I usually put out for company. I don't usually seek out company.

Perhaps I am more high maintenance than I thought.

Louie is busy umping tonight.

We shall see, we shall see.

Things are good. I had a nice weekend. Had a date Friday with the man who will finally be called, Louie. I can think of one person who will very likely be able to say why. I am being vague again. Another one tonight. Schedules being what they are, I don't know when we will see each other again but we are in near constant contact. Which is kinda nice, and kinda nerve wracking. You know, because I can be insecure like that.

I don't think I mentioned that I saw the Cowboy a couple of weeks ago. I had hoped I could handle it, but apparently I was wrong, so it's a good thing that it was in passing while driving.

I also got a message the other day that W is getting married. I am happy for them but even though I don't want to be with him, it still made me feel a little funny. I think it will always be that way. I wish them both happiness though. As always.

The parade yesterday was loads of fun. Hot, but fun.

That's all I've got.

Updates

Oil wrestling was fun although I can't get the oil out of my hair or the smell out of my nose. I hate baby oil. hated it before, now I hate it more.

Been seeing someone, who still doesn't have a name. He's nice. I'm not sure about him sometimes. Other times, I want to see what happens. Our schedules don't match, which makes for a rare visit. And I have a theory that we are both scared to make any sort of move due to a few other theories that I have. Don't you love it when I am vague?

All else is well. I'm still not unpacked.

Things to do in Reno

If you aren't busy tonight, The Reno Roller Girls are wrestling in Baby Oil at Knuckleheads on Vine at 8:00. Hopefully there will be pictures or video soon...

It's like flying to me. Happy HNT

Gutterbutt is calling the jam behind me. I fell behind in the next picture and was unable to catch back up.


And sometimes, it's more like falling.


I love my Reno Roller Girls and Can't wait to bout again in September!!

And I didn't even notice it

For many years, I lived with a fear of public restrooms. It wasn't the crippling kind of fear that keeps you from entering a building, or even an overpowering fear such that I couldn't use them.

No, it was more of a paranoia, a worry that someone might peek over the stall and watch me go.

I know where the paranoia stemmed from, it happened once. It was the end of 5th grade. The party on the last day of school, or at least one of the last couple of days. We had it at the park behind my school. We were supposed to fly the kites we made out of straws, string, and tissue paper. I never finished mine.

Having to go, I headed to the restroom. I didn't pay attention to the classmates hanging out at the entrance, I was too busy thinking about how the some of my friends had invited me to play Dungeons and Dragons (I hadn't played before and I thought it was cool. We never got around to it) And how I was supposed to go to another friend's house after school. She had a pool.

So, I'm sitting on my hands, like my mom taught me, so I don't catch cooties from the seat, and a voice says, "Why are you leaning forward, are you constipated?" (you can't sit up while sitting on your hands! I mean, you can, but it's not comfortable. And who has proper posture on the toilet anyway?)

I realized someone was peeking. And from that day I always checked. Watched the stall above me to make sure there were no faces looking down. I don't think I said anything to those kids that day, I just pretended like nothing happened. They never teased me, and I never heard anything about it again. Thank goodness. I was lucky.

I had one other incident in the public restroom that told me that these places were not safe (we won't even get into the story of the little boy who's throat was slit in the restroom at the beach in Oceanside.) I was at the beach with a boyfriend. We had been walking around, he was visiting me while I was in the Americorps*NCCC.

Beach bathrooms, in in case you have never been in one, are notoriously dirty; don't ever walk in there barefoot. There's always an inch deep swamp of sand and water mixed with a bit of toilet paper (there's rarely toilet paper on the rolls where you need it) and God only knows what else. The stall doors are always missing, which doesn't really matter since you can see right over them. It's cold, damp, and smelly in there. It's not a place to rest. There aren't toilet seats. It's a place to hover, pee, and exit.

To ventilate these dank, cinderblock structures, there are windows at the top of the walls along the roof line. From the toilet, you can see out the hole. I saw a face briefly appear.

When I came out, I made my boyfriend go look for the peeper. It didn't occur to me until about a month ago that I may have been him peeking in on me that day. He was a bit of a strange bird.

Today I walked into the restroom at work and it suddenly hit me. I don't worry that someone is peeking anymore. I don't remember the last time I checked above the stall. I think it was recently. But I think I realized, finally, that no one wants to see my ass.

No longer a thief

I finally fixed my internet so I am no longer stealing it from my neighbors. Not that I wasn't paying for it anyway, of course. Does that mean that all the things I have been intending to tell you about over the last month are suddenly going to come flooding onto the screen? nope. It doesn't work that way for me. But I hope to catch you up soon. Maybe if I suffer from insomnia again tonight.

Meanwhile, I am going to return to all you all's blogs because I haven't read them in oh, a month or so.

The incredible missing blogger

How long has it been? I have lost track. Frankly, I have lost track of a lot this past month. I miss you guys. I miss writing for me, I miss reading your stories. I hope to be posting regularly soon. I went on a second date, I've yet to think of a nickname. I've another bout on Saturday. I'm all moved in but certainly not settled. Work is good, the bird is cute. She called me a goofball the other day and is thrilled to be back on her perch.

I? am exhausted. I keep telling myself I can rest next week.

Hate this part.

I went to the house today to meet the cable guy and to start cleaning over there. It wasn't bad, but needed a once over. I still need to vacuum. On the lighter side, as I was cleaning the cabinets in the kitchen, I found a jar of brown liquid. About 1/3 full. The label on the lid? Bourbon. Ray was shocked, I was tickled. He dumped it out. who knows how long it had been in there and I only drink Southern Comfort. The color was ll wrong for that.

Back at the apartment, things are overwhelming. I started getting Poo's room cleaned up and out-I bought his bed set from him and his bathroom still had stuff. I took all my cleaning supplies over to the house so I was stuck with comet ad vinegar. You can clean about anything with vinegar. I was amazed at how easily it cleaned the blood from the walls where his eczema left him cracked and bleeding. No, there wasn't that much. I just need to vacuum in there now.

Where to begin on the rest? It's a mess around here. a big, complicated mess. I have gathered more things over the last year than I should have. But I'll get it done. I always do.

I did take some time to relax too. Took a nap. read a book. blogged. Wish I could blog all the wonderful stories I have from the last couple weeks, but there really isn't time. I worry that they will be outdated when there is. I was even going to set them up on automatic. Oh well. Eventually.

Whirlwind HNT

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks.

My first derby bout went smashingly. I skated well, and have confidence that with work I can be even better.

Then it was off to Yosemite where I performed my second wedding ceremony at Glacier Point. It was a wonderful wedding, intimate and fun. But three days away when I felt like I needed to be home.

The rush of wedded bliss had me signed back onto Yahoo Personals as if it would be the answer to all of my troubles. I had a date planned for tonight with a a fellow who I first spoke to before I met Cowboy, before I moved. He's a little beyond my age range but I wanted to give it a try.

He had to cancel, but was apologetic. And I? wasn't really surprised. I've lost count of the cancellations, the disappointments. All I can figure is that the universe, for some reason, said, "not tonight dear".

Cable and internet will be set up in the new place on Saturday and I can start moving in, or should be able to, on Sunday. I know that packing is going to be a larger chore than I think it is and I haven't started.

I have another bout in a couple of weeks.

My knees hurt.

I've become easily irritated at practice.

I'm not sleeping properly.

It's gotta calm down soon.

Really?

So I was popping onto Yahoo to obsessively check my personals ad (because this is what I do. At least I have stopped getting my feelings hurt when guys don't respond to me.)

And I saw that George Carlin has died. I think I was just talking about that last week. Like, "Holy crap, what happens when George Carlin dies?"

And he did. Rest well, Sir, you were a classic.

And this is what I choose to do

So many neat things going on, so much of life is moving in exciting directions. I just spent the last couple of days in paradise.

What do I blog about?

I just put myself back on Yahoo Personals.

I didn't try very hard to make myself sound enticing. I only posted one picture. And honestly? looking at my matches? it's not looking good. Half of those guys were on there a year ago.

And while I was all fired up to get back out there and try again before I posted my profile, When it was done, I felt sad. Like maybe I was so excited about the wedding that I gained a false sense of reality regarding where my feelings and emotions are right now.

But, at the same time, I don't want to sit around hoping so and so will change his mind. He isn't going to. Life doesn't work that way. This isn't Hollywood, it's Reno. And I am a woman with a habit of choosing fixer uppers. You know, the ones that with time and patience have a lot of potential.

Sigh. Here's to new adventures.

Whatever happened to "I reserve the right"?

Let me please begin this post by saying that I believe that you should be able to marry who you choose (if you are both consenting adults). Who you love. As a minister, I would marry any couple that asked. BUT

Today I was listening to NPR and they had a story. A story that upset me very much.

Apparently, there is a business that is being sued for refusing to videotape a Lesbian wedding. The act of taping this wedding went directly against the religious beliefs of the owner of the company.

The couple in question won the lawsuit.

I think it's wrong. I think the photographer should have the right to POLITELY refuse to the service, just as I would refuse service to someone I thought was doing something morally wrong. How can the government, or anyone else for that matter, tell me that I CANNOT refuse to do business with someone? Suppose I knew someone was going to use my soap as an ingredient to bomb Cute Fuzzy Puppy and Kittyville? I can't let them do that! Oh wait, blowing stuff up is illegal. BUT I don't think I could marry a 12 year old to her 30 year old paramour, even if she had her parents permission. Because I think it's wrong. And according to that court's ruling, I can be sued for feeling that way.

The business is appealing the decision. I hope they win. In this, I have to side with the Christians.

I'm sure there are plenty of videographers who would LOVE to tape the wedding.

This may be a preemptive story

once upon a time there was a girl. And she met a boy. But the boy's heart was not available. So the girl waited.

One day, the boy decided that she should not wait anymore. That it wasn't fair, which is good because the girl had come to realize that if they boy really liked her, he would try harder.

The boy and girl decided to be friends. a few emails went by, a text message or two. An enjoyable phone call. The girl thought to herself that maybe, just maybe, this friendship thing would work even though she secretly hoped that the boy would miss her. (because that is what girls do)

Since she was a logical girl, she reminded herself not to be an idiot (again). But when the boy stopped responding to messages,it still hurt.

And the girl wondered why the boy would bother to tell her he valued her friendship if he was going to go away. And a little part of the girl knew that if he really did go away, it was better, and a little part hoped everything was ok. Because she didn't think he was that kind of boy.

not the end.

And the beat goes on...

Life continues to rush forward at alarming rates. The remaining kitties go back on Saturday, the same date as my first Roller Derby Bout. I'm a little nervous, but I also tend to do well in front of people. I don't know. Gotta try my best.

I found a home! One of my coworkers has a house he was looking to rent, and what do you know? it was just what I was looking for! There is an option to buy, I think I want to rent a little at first, but it came together so smoothly that I know that I made the right decision in taking it. My new rent will be lower than my current rent and THAT makes me a very happy little girl.

Meanwhile, Father's Day is on Sunday and I have no desire to contact him. That makes me a very sad panda. I really wish it wasn't this way, but, wishing doesn't fix the past and while I will always love Daddy, he has hurt me a lot. You know, though, as well as I do that I will send him an email. (I don't have his current phone number, if any) I was thinking that I should call my aunt and uncle and see what THEY are doing. I like spending these days with family.

Friday, a bunch of us are heading up to Tahoe to see my friend Dat. I'm pretty excited about it. It's been a long time since I have done something not Derby related.

Next week, after I return from Yosemite (I'm performing another wedding ceremony! I REALLY need to write those vows...) My Derby Wife and I are going to the Rodeo compliments of my friend and new Landlord. YAY!

Controlling my impulses

There are a couple of things I have been wanting to do since I got my job in the ginormous warehouse. One is to see how much speed I can get skating from one end to the other. I am thinking a lot. I'm thinking stopping might hurt.

The other is to see if I would fit in one of the column wrappers, so when one arrived today, I had to try it on. I'm trying to decide what the General Manager thought of that moment of silliness, since he walked by right then. My coworker went ahead and strapped me in, and my boss threatened to push me over.

By the way, I did fit, but it didn't close all the way. I think we could have forced it though.

It was just as much fun as riding the pallet wrapper, but a lot less dangerous.

What a day

I didn't sleep last night. I was worried that Tarzan would die and I would have to figure out what to do with her body. I dreamed of Roller Derby and kittens. Sounds great since I love both, but we have a bout in 1 week and I had a dying kitten on my hands.

I got up this morning and disturbed the kitty pile. Tarzan was at the bottom of it. Her jaw was slack, her eyes closed.

Then she opened them, lifted her head and looked at me.

I managed to get her to drink a couple of drops of water. She could hardly stand. She managed though, to fall off the counter and upset me further. She took a bit of some egg, but was too weak to do more than sink her teeth into it.

I took her to work with me. My plan was to nurse her through the day and take her to the vet when my shift was over. I wasn't sure she would make it to work, but I didn't feel as though I had a lot of choice. I have to work. I need the money and I can't afford the points. I just realized that if I missed today, I would have lost my job. There's a stress I don't need.

Thankfully, my supervisor knows better. He sent me to the vet. After talking to the Dr, I left her there with the plan of going back after work, hopefully to pick her up. She cried any time I put her down. The tests they took while I was there (it's true, you can tell a lot from poo)

When I returned, they told me that she was stable, and that she wasn't infectious. They took me into her room where she lay looking a lot like she did that morning. The vet intended to take her home to watch her over the weekend. She was unresponsive. I spent a few minutes petting her and left her in the care of the clinic.

The Dr called me personally to tell me she had passed. The necropsy came back undetermined. She had a lightly enlarged heart, which the vet attributed to her death. She said there wasn't really anything that could have been done. An enlarged heart does explain why she wasn't as active as her siblings, and why she constantly snuggling up to things. I like to think that she had a big heart, and a lot of love to give.

I gave her all of the snuggles and attention I could, carrying her in my lap while I drove, in my arms while I tried to work . I like to tell myself that I helped her have a good short life. As I sang her lullabies on the way to the vet, I thought that perhaps this kitty would be waiting for me when it comes time for me to cross someday. She was as mine as she will ever be anyones. I loved her. Who wouldn't?

Happy HNT fuzzy edition

This is Tarzan. She's one of my foster kitties. She's always been quiet, but today, after her bath, it was worse.

Tarzan spends all of her time in my lap or on my foot. Her whole body fits right on top of my foot.

Today she has spent the evening in my shirt. She's warm now, but I am concerned. She's just a bitty thing. The runt. 2/3 the size of her rambunctious siblings.

They are quiet tonight too. I think they are worried about her. Oh dear. I just found a lump on her back when I was petting her. I'll definately be taking her to work tomorrow and to the vet after. Strange, I didn't notice the lump during bath time. How could i have missed it? It's huge! right over her spine. Between her shoulders and firm. And connected. I want to pull on it, but I don't want to hurt her. With all the pets I've given her, how could I have missed this???

Dear Internet Searchers

I hope those of you who came here looking for information on Pasturella found what you are looking for. I hope those of you who came here looking for muscle boobs did not.

Getting back on the horse

Not being one to let a little snag stop me, I'm working to get back on the horse, so to speak. I've looked at three houses in the last two days. Two are distinct possibilities, but one is a short sale and the other a foreclosure (it's the same house on two different streets.) The realtor on the foreclosure (which is the one I like best) says the bank owner won't work with the Nieamiah program which is the only way I can get a down payment short of selling favors on the street corner. Expensive ones. He might be full of shit, but I also don't want to end up all wound up and then right back where I started. Again. MY realtor says there's a little something telling him to wait. I'm trusting him on this. I think there's something telling me to wait too.

On the dating front, although the temptation is there to hop right back online and find myself another guy to hang with, I'm waiting. Give the horse a rest. Figure out why I keep making the same mistakes. The time I spent with the Cowboy was not a mistake, but honestly, I knew it wasn't going to work out. I tried anyway. And then it didn't. And I was hurt. I need to chase after men who ARE interested in me, not the ones who are broken and not in a position to be with me. Actually, I would like to stop chasing men, but the ones that tend to chase me are not men I consider dating. If they aren't 50, they smell of the kind of trouble I like to stay away from.

SO while dating provides fantastic blog fodder, I want to wait. Give it some time. And stop trying to force life to happen.

TMS

Too much shit

Somewhere along the line, it could have been recently, it could have been ten years ago, I feel like I lost my shit. I'm starting to find it. From forgetting birthdays to neglecting thank you cards, it's like the little things in life that mean a lot have been lost in the shuffle of other things that might even mean less. I'm not sure. I mean, we all have to work, we all need hobbies, we all have to pay our bills, but when a person gets so wrapped up that they forget the important stuff? there's something wrong.

I'm trying to fix it. I go through this every so often, this sudden realization that I have dropped my basket. I hope this time the focus lasts a little bit longer.

It's been a crazy week

what with Cowboy's resignation and the foster kitties and I FINALLY got final word on the house.

The deal is dead.

It's complicated, all that went down, but at least I have an answer and I can move forward.

Just call it what it is

I know I am emotional lately, more so than usual and generally unable to control my pissy-ness or my leaks. (fuckin leaks. STOP ALREADY YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING 6 MONTHS AGO) I have no patience for my wild emotions. Which is probably why they go crazy when they can.

ANYWAY

Come on. "Southern Style" chicken sandwich? with "Pollo" flashing across the screen? I am SO TIRED of the McDonalds Burritos. The "Southern Style" chicken sandwich. The constant catering to a culture that TRUST ME 'aint gonna eat that if they are jonesing for some good MEXICAN food. "Southern Style"?? You mean Southern San Ysidro. Southern of the border. NOT Southern America, or else you'd be offering Collard Greens and BBQ. With a side of black eyed peas. (mmm BBQ. I don't like the rest of that stuff BUT I will eat a few black eyed peas on New Years. If Nana makes me)

If you are trying to sell Mexican Food out of an American fast food joint (you're an idiot) call it what it is. You aren't fooling anyone. It's easy. MEXICAN. Wanna stretch it? BORDER STYLE. But not southern. Sure, Mexico is South of the USA. But it is a separate country. With different flavors and a wonderful culture.

And that has nothing to do with McDonalds Marketing.

grr.

The gamble

I lost. It wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. I was supposed to skip away with a farewell, let's be friends, not slink away with a tear and voice in my head telling me that I've been through this before, I'll get through it again.

Of course i'll get through it again. I just really wanted to be wrong this time.

We both agreed though, we let it go on too long.

No concept

The bank's indecision, the selling realtors difficult personality, all the things that have gone funky with my house, may have just cost me my back up plan. Can't ask my Derby Wife to pass up a confirmed roommate while I am not knowing what will happen next.

I can't stand that there are so many variables in my life. I'm a fixer. I get rid of variables as much as possible so that life isn't dramatic. There's only one variable I have control over right now. and i am too undecided about it to fix it. The other? is out of my hands and I hate that more.

These people, they don't seem to understand that their waiting is fucking with my life.

Begging

I just asked a friend of mine for a favor in the name of derby. It's a favor I had thought about before, but I don't like to ask my friends for things, especially when I don't talk to them very often. The worst he can say is no, I guess!

Meanwhile,

No news on the house. My realtor is working hard to make it happen. Sadly, it's a holiday weekend and people like to go home early.

The clouds are lifting

I have been trying to avoid talking about the house I am trying to buy too much because I haven't wanted to discuss it until it's mine, gloriously mine.

Here's something to realize when you consider this momentous occasion in my life; I have wanted to own my own home since I was, I don't know, like, 11. I understood, of course, that I would have to live in an apartment first so when I was 14 and started planning out how I would survive on whichever wage I found in the Pennysaver (we didn't get the newspaper.)and allotting an allowance for things like clothes and electricity, I knew it would be awhile before I could afford a house. No one graduates from High School and buys a house (Except Joe, who had a settlement and he bought it for his mom. He lives in an apartment). But a house! How lovely it would be.

Little did I know how hard it would be, to survive on the wages at Sea World with my then boyfriend in a 600 square foot apartment with two cats, a snake, and an ant problem. We moved out, up, and eventually on, but I still dreamed of a house. I even looked at some. Beautiful 5 bedroom homes with granite countertops and fireplaces for $250,000. A steal then. But still I didn't have it despite having a much better paying job. Those homes were going for 6 or 7 hundred thousand last I checked although they have certainly come down recently.

That was nearly 10 years ago. I have held onto my dream. I have saved. I have hoped, I have moved to Reno with the knowledge that here, more likely than in San Diego, I could finally reach my goal.

In February, I put in an offer on a lovely home. It was much like the houses I toured back in Santee. 4 bedrooms. Huge kitchen. A garage. Double oven. And it was ready to move in. And a steal at 205. You can't get a ramshackle fixer in SD for that. Then I lost my job. But the bank wasn't in a hurry, and at that point, the longer they took, the better for me. By the time they decided, I hoped, I would have another job and be able to pick up where I left off.

I got another job, but decided to pull out of the deal because the house was so far away. About 45 minutes each way and with gas prices they way they are, I didn't think it was smart to live so far out of town. Then I learned that due to my new, lower wage, I couldn't afford the house after all.

Not one to sit on my laurels, I sent my realtor a list of homes I COULD afford. The first one we looked at, we think may have doubled as a brothel. Descriptions of that one are better left to in person because it's the kind of wide eyed, hand gesturing story that I love to tell. The owner of the home was a corporation. It was a "corporate retreat". With red walls, shag carpet and a bidet that overlooked the bedroom.

The second house, was it. fixer. With potential. The cheapest house on the market but still better than the brothel. Two doors down from a skate park. The garage had been converted into what I plan on having as my craft room. a craft room. My loom and wheels wouldn't have to live in the living room. The sewing machine wouldn't have to exist on the dining room table. My yarn wouldn't take over my office. I would have an office AND a guest room. Sure, it needs work, but, it could be mine. I could even have that pretty aqua shaggy carpet that Seester and I got to feel a Home Depot.(eventually. or maybe "wood" floors!)

Baby could move back onto her regular living quarters instead of the cramped cage she has now.

We asked for repairs and an extension. I gave them my earnest money. The repairs would be rolled into my loan and cover some broken windows, electrical work, plumbing, tear down the not-permitted and dangerous patio cover, some HVAC stuff, and a new roof. (damn that new roof) The first closing date was to be the 15th of May. That got stretched to the 20th. Then we asked for another extension. To the 11th of June and the seller balked. And threatened to keep my earnest money.

And this is where we are. The seller doesn't want to authorize the repairs because they are concerned that my loan will fall through and there will be a lien on the property. FHA won't release the loan until the repairs are ordered. So I am at a standstill. And have been wandering around with a cloud over my head for about a week.

I spoke to my realtor this morning and he assured me that he was doing everything in his power to save it. About ten minutes later, the cloud lifted and suddenly, the faith that I knew was there, that feeling of well being you get when you know in your heart that everything is going to be okay reappeared. I didn't know if it was a hormone shift (hey, I'm a woman) or something good happened. There's nothing like the Fish DC to cheer me up. When they get Hermit crabs in there, I may just stay.

When Joe called about an hour later, I was in a much better mood. And The news was better. Each time I have spoken to him today, the news has been better. And for that I am grateful.

I don't know what is going to happen. Best case, I get my house. And while it will be tight and it won't be glamourous, it will be mine. I will finally get to bring my stuff out of storage, i'll have my double headed shower (oh yeah. it's already there) I'll be able to tend to my fruit trees and play in my yard. Worst case, plan B. I move in with my derby wife and have a derby posse because another derby girl lives next door to her. This won't help to dispel the rumors that we somehow form some sort of iron clad Derby Voltron, but it will make life a bit cheaper for the both of us. And I think we would have fun living together. Either way, I am in a good situation.

I still want the house. But excepting positive thinking, it's out of my hands. I'm just glad my attitude got better. I was tired of the stress.

This sums it up very nicely.

http://sports.espn.go.com/broadband/video/video?id=3401989

And for MORE Derby fun, If'n you are looking for something to do in Reno on May 31, come out and play with us.

In honor of my evening with Becky

I bring you the Swedish Chef



Which only proves that there is something about the Swedish Meatballs. Or I can't handle my balls. Saucy balls. ahem.

That hurt

In an effort to be able to pay my rent this month (just went up. lovely) I cancelled my fiber of the month subscription. That hurt tangibly.

Why do I need this house sooner rather than later?

I'll be 15 miles closer to work for one. That's 30 miles a day. 150 miles a week. About half a tank, actually, although with all the freeway driving I have been getting better milage. When I'm spending 50 bucks every couple of days to fill the tank (yes, I know that's nothing compared to what other people spend. but it's a lot for me and I don't drive a big ole SUV or giant truck. I drive a Honda.)

My mortgage will be less than my rent.

I won't be living in half my available space

I won't be paying to store my belongings (included in my rent)

Baby will be back in her cage instead of in the cramped quarters she's been living in for far too long. This bothers me every day.

So please think good, positive thoughts about escrow closing earlier than June 11, the date we requested the extension through because I don't really mind being house poor, but apartment poor sucks. I miss my fiber package already. I need to figure out how to set up a soap of the month club because it's FUN to look forward to getting something you love every month.

I should listen to the voices in my head

Last weekend I took a little trip out west partially to be with my cousin on Mother's day, and partially because I was scheduled to meet Jestertunes and company. I discovered that Jester lives a lot farther from my cousin than I thought, and that the whole crew was loads of fun. Somewhere floating around the electronicshere, there are some pretty incriminating sound bites and likely at least one of me passed out on Jester's couch. This is becoming a habit.

Last night, I met Hellohahanarf. She was here in Reno for a Propane convention. It was madness in a way that i never knew that trade shows are. Everyone was nice, everyone was friendly, almost everyone was drunk.

I am always worried that i am going to commit some sort of faux pas. Usually, i am very careful and manage to avoid any embarrassing situations. Last night, the voices in my head said I was going to spill if I ate.

Now, if I am going to drink, I have to eat. period. it's my rule. Like the one that says I can only have two if I am planning to drive home eventually. Three, and I am planning to stay or get a ride.

Last night, the drinks and the food were flowing freely. and by freely, I mean that I crashed those parties knowing that the food and booze would be gratuitous. Sweet.

I grabbed a drink, and one of Becky's boys led me to the table for some appetizery. Meatballs. mmmm. finger sandwiches. I took the last spring roll. It was calling to me. I WANTED it. it was going to be GOOD. I carefully balanced my plate on top of my drink. (you're gonna spill) and walked over to the group.(you're gonna spill) I ate the sandwich (you're gonna spill) I tried to shut the voices up with rum and coke. I went for a swedish meatball. and most everything landed on the floor. Everyone swooped in to rescue me. As with any accident, I was a bit dumbfounded. I lost the spring roll, saved one meatball, and never went back for more. The boys happily helped me to scrub the sauce off of my boob (I held out my shirt. there was no gratuituous feeling. of my breast. The boy from Canadia had already felt my butt. He said he needed to see if I was a good skater. Apparently I am.)

A second Rum and Coke and I was feeling a little tingly. We moved to the next party. I snagged a margarita. They were serving cheeze and crackers. Pepperoni and cheeze does not soak up alcohol. I sipped, and someone announced shots. Which means I finished drink 4 before drink 3 was gone. I finished my drink and went to the bathroom. When I got back, there was another margarita waiting for me. THAT one landed on the front of me. I decided it would be my last drink.

Between drunk texting and all the pictures taken with my camera, the evening was self evident. At one point, I broke off from the group and played with a couple of my roller girls. I even managed to try and recruit a couple of ladies in the club. Add that to the schmoozing I did with business men in the hopes of scoring fans and maybe a sponsor, I think I did pretty good things for my league despite being shit faced. Don't worry, they were too.

All in all, I had a wonderful time. Becky and her friends were unbelieveable. They treated me like an old friend. I can see how these things can turn into a lot of naughtiness and promescuity, but none of the people I was with indulged in that behavior. I can see why there were so many wives along. If i were a wife, I think I would want to be along too. Just to keep the naughty ladies away.

Pictures later. I am going to go watch The Parent Trap. the original one. sweet.

Having a moment

Of frustration and not really anguish but something like it. Where I just want to lay down and take a longer nap than I had time for since I am supposed to be somewhere right now. Somewhere that is going to save me almost 500 bucks in closing cost but, I just don't feel like going. I feel like staying home with my pet and my crafts watching The Family Guy and The Simpsons all evening. Hiding out, skipping loans and derby and anything else that might call my attention.

But I don't have time because I need to go to this function and after that I need to go to practice. I missed one last week, I can't keep doing that. It's my exercise. Among other things.

Too many things, too many too many, I'm having trouble keeping it together. I am worried about money, I am worried about house, I worry about my job. The money is short, and the house is having hiccups (Please FHA, I need you to hurry it up) and the job, I love it, but I am insecure after all that has happened. And they, I would have thought they would have more procedures in place.

I need to go grocery shopping and Vettie needs help, but I don't have the money, although I have more than she. I didn't sleep last night for worry about the merchandise I volunteered to take care of.

We're bouting in three weeks, a close friend is divorcing and Cowboy is lost in so many ways, looking for help I am not sure I know how to give anymore. Where do I draw the line between caring, supportive friend and frustrated, impatient woman? They are fighting with each other.

I know this is temporary, that it will all come together, and even out again, and that things bunch up like this periodically, but when you're in the middle of it, it is tough to see the calm after the storm. You know it will be there, you know you will survive, and yet, the stress of surviving is almost too much.

I gotta go. I'm half an hour late.