More fun than a barrel of monkeys

I have been on a monkey kick. After my mom adopted the last one, I pulled a pair of socks to make this one. In an amazing display of focus, I finished her in 1 evening. By focus I mean that I only stopped periodically to surf the net, eat dinner, chat with Poo, send a text...

She's really quite fun, actually, with sculpted butt cheeks (which I didn't figure would come out in the picture) and her slight crookedness. Hand made. It happens.

Poo says should sell them, and I do have plans to adopt them out on my website which should be back up in the next couple of days even if I am not back in business yet.

However, I feel like things will be back to normal again soon and as soon as I have a place of my own, I am confident that I will be producing soap again. I'll let you know, too, when the site is back up and running (It's up, just not where I want it to be). I will have yarn for sale right away, and whatever soap I have left in stock. And sometimes, maybe, just maybe, a monkey or two.

Relief

Yup. Employed. As of next Monday. About 10 minutes after I filed for unemployment. But I'm still going to collect for last week and this. Because I need the income. And then? YAY! It's not as much money as I had hoped, but I think I will really like this one. And that's worth more money than I can count. How nice it will be to wake up and want to go to work every day. It's as an administrative assistant for a major pet supply company. I like pet supplies. AND I like to shop with this company so, HOORAY! A JOB! WHEE! Took my pee test today. Poo assured me that my minor inhalations a couple of weeks ago shouldn't hurt me, that you have to intentionally inhale concentrated amounts for it to show up. I am still a little nervous, but I'm pretty darn sure I will be okay.
The company will be starting me out in HR at first, to help them and get me in there. In a month or so I will move into my permanent position. As per usual, I won't give any gory work details. (sorry bout that. I worry about getting caught and fired) Regardless, this is definitely a good thing.

tough

So, Poo says I should file for unemployment, something I have not done because I am prideful.

I just tried to via internet but because I worked in CA part of last year, I can't do that. Which means I have to call them. Which makes me want to cry. So I am blogging instead.

Updates

Had an interview today. Hooray! The job would be fantastic. I am hoping they pay enough, and that they hire me. He definitely wants me in for a second interview. Pray.

Handyman work is going well. At least it's income and I am enjoying myself, even if I cannot kneel.

The bruises on my knees are healing and I fully expect to be able to skate again next week. The one on my hand, which you do not have a picture of, has spread from the fleshy part of my thumb around to the top of my first metacarpal. It doesn't hurt, but it's ugly. Wear your PPEs folks. I need to remember to start taking my vitamins again.

Had an encounter this evening that reminded me to keep my eyes wide open and my head on strait. No, it wasn't creepy or dangerous, no I don't want to discuss it, just know that I made a mental note.

The promised photos. But first...

Got a call from my dad today. I figured he would call before too long. It's been what, a month since I last heard from him? Maybe two since I was fired three weeks ago. He usually flips back and forth between Seester and I, asking for money. He hit her last.

So I get this call, and it's Daddy (a little strange because the woman who's house I have been working on asked me about my dad today. I told her the usual answer. He's alive, as far as I know). Apparently he's put in 35 applications over the last week and hasn't heard a thing. I explained that I am jobless too right now. Still skating like crazy, that I love it, but no job.

He didn't ask what I meant about skating. I doubt he even knows about Derby. I mean, he knows what it is, of course, but I don't think he knows I do it. He just got off the phone. Limited minutes, you know (on a "private" number? aren't those usually land lines? I still have a San Diego number. hmmm). I wished him well.

Meanwhile, I took pictures of my injuries, which really don't do them justice, but I think you'll get the idea.

In the words of me infamous grandmother (the dead one)

Aw, Shit.

We had the Skate for Bri event tonight and it went off with only one small hitch! Some kid knocked me down. No pads. Pictures when the bruise finishes developing. It's pretty swollen. I'm not used to being swollen. And I have rink rash. Fishnet pattern.

I feel like a "real" derby girl...

Happy HNT!

I skipped practice tonight, partially to listen to Jestertunes on blogtalkradio, but mostly because damnit, I am tired. Today I spent most of my day pulling ceramic tile out of a shower (drywall too). Add that to my exhaustion from last night's practice and my slightly sore ankle, and I decided to leave it for a night.

SO I made myself a big cup of mint chocolate cocoa. Happy HNT

In which the cure is far worse than the injury

One thing I didn't do that I should have when I sprained my ankle two years ago is ice. I know I should have, and that I would have healed faster, but I didn't and that's that.

So tonight when I hit the wall wrong (what ever happened to my stopping skills? jeez!) and tweaked my ankle, I knew it was important to get myself home and soak in ice so that I can be back at the rink tomorrow.

So I filled up my bucket (I love buckets) with ice water and stuck my foot in. And discovered a whole new type of pain. I discovered the kind of pain that makes me want to bite a bullet. I discovered a kind of pain that makes me want to scream just to release some of the built up pressure.

I'm a puss, I can only soak for a couple of seconds at a time. My foot is numb and red. My sweatshirt has bite marks.

But I kept up with the big girls tonight. Mostly. Actually, speed-wise, I am almost equal. It's the tricks (like turning around to the left) and getting hit where I falter. And I really need to get over that. Like our coaches say, that's why we wear pads.

fuckin cold water...

Mean silver lining

If Poo takes a position in Sacramento, he will move. Which means I will move. I don't really want to move right now unless it is into my house because despite my current case of hiccups, all the wrinkles got ironed out and everything worked out for the best.

I am already mentally preparing myself for the idea of living with a roommate and changing into a different storage unit.

I realized tonight though, that if Poo moves to Sacramento, I won't have to deal with Clint anymore. He won't be drunk in my home, talking loud until all hours of the night.

It's a mean silver lining. But a silver lining nonetheless.

Things to Do in Reno

More things to do in Reno!

Skate for Brianna Denison-Things to Do in Reno, NV

On Monday March 10th, the Reno Roller Girls are hosting a charity skate event to benefit Secret Witness, the folks providing reward money for the capture of Brianna Denison's killer. Since there's a possibility that someone in Reno might read this blog, I'm posting the flier. I think the girls got it covered on MySpace.

Resetting my faith in people

A couple of posts ago, I discussed how Cowboy made me a very generous offer of helping me get a new massage table and relaunching me back into the healing arts field. If you remember, there were a lot of Buts in the way. Too many.

Then I got another offer. One that I would be foolish to refuse. Heather informed me that there was a monster under her bed that had my name on it. She was giving this to me because every so often, she wishes for something on her blog and people come through. She was filling my massage void.

Wow.

I called her, we chatted (she's super nice) and discussed how the transfer would go from Texas to Reno. The information would come in as soon as her husband came home to help her move the bed.

Today I got a message. Mice. She felt really bad. But, this little situation helped to remind me that there are good people out there. People that will be nice to you just for the sake of being nice. Her wonderful generous offer helped restore my faith in humanity.

That's an even bigger gift.

I cannot thank her enough.

Do you think?

Do you think John Malcovich knows he's a bit creepy? I think he definitely has to have a good sense of humor about himself or he would not have played himself in "Being John Malcovich" and I am really enjoying his quotes on IMDB. But I am often struck when watching movies with him; just how dang creepy and especially sinister he can be.

While researching him a little (very little) though, for this post which came to me while I was popping in on "In the Line of Fire" (hey, I had shorts to re-con into a skirt and a monkey to start. Who has time for stressful movies?) I cam to appreciate him as a man. The following are quotes I shamelessly stole from IMDB (with comments, of course!):

"I wasn't really raised to be the type of person to have doubts." Hey! me either! Cool!

"I've always felt that if you can't make money as an actor, you`re either incredibly stupid or tragically unlucky." pfft. hee hee. Actors are quite crazy...

Amazingly, I came away from this post with a higher appreciation for John as an individual. He's still creepy.

"I'm drawn to a character with a lack of humanity. People give reasons for being cruel or sadistic but I think it is just a lack of humanity and concern for others. I think I'm good at them because I don't like them. Audiences are attracted to them but I hate them. It's strange." - On why he enjoys playing evil characters. Oh. Okay. At least he has a reason. hmm.

The subject comes up periodically

It's amazing to me how difficult it can be to avoid illegal substances.

Last night, the derby girls had a slumber party. It was a great time. Full of drinking and eating and the watching off Rollergirls. and drinking. And Pot.

EEK! Aside from my personal issues with the substance, something I try and keep to myself unless asked, I generally have jobs that prohibit this kind of activity. I am rather paranoid about being around it because it is not worth it to me to lose out on a job because of second hand smoke. In the situation I'm in now, I have hopes every day of having an interview and hopes that that interview will lead to a test and a job. Testing positive could ruin a lot of stuff for me.

So last night, as soon as the scent hit my nose, I removed myself to the living room. I might be wrong in my assumption, but I generally think that if I can't smell it, I'm not breathing it. The lady of the house overheard me talking to another girl who does not imbibe, and promised to remove themselves tot her room. I thanked her. I don't want to be a poop, I don't want to try and tell a person what they can and cannot do in their home. That's not my business.

This morning though, I smelled the familiar aroma. I tried to turn my head, I tried to breathe through my blanket as I was folding it. I did my best not to inhale. I finally cracked the door. I made sure I took a load out to my car right then. The man of the house was done by the time I returned.

I hope I was not obnoxious. I understand that it was nice for them to be able light up whenever, where ever because the kids were gone for the night. I hope they understood that I am not judging them for their lifestyle choice. I am a little confused as to why a person would refuse to smoke cigarettes in their house but not pot. Whatever, not my business. Not my house. I do keep smelling it though. I think it's stuck in my sinuses. I hope that doesn't mean it's detectable in my system. After all, I didn't inhale by choice. Somehow, I don't think a potential employer would care about that.

Decent Proposal

Cowboy brought something up today.

He asked if I ever thought about massaging again. I told him that I do think about it sometimes, you know, on the side, easy money, but I don't have a table anymore.

He asked how much that would cost me, and I explained that a table like the ones I had before (which were top of the line for portables) are upwards of $500.

"You know, I could help you with that"

Blink. Blink.

He understood when I told him that I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. I don't like to owe anyone. We're alike that way, you see.

But it's in my head now.

4 clients at $70, and I just made the same amount as what I made working all week with the handyman. And I could easily do both. I could make back that investment very quickly. Two 6 hour Saturdays and I have made back his investment plus sheets and oil with profit.

But.

While we are increasingly comfortable with each other, he is not my boyfriend. (even if he were, I would hesitate) I consider what we have a very delicate matter. I would bend over backwards to repay him and give him free massages on top of it, but.

It's tempting, but.

So many buts...

I am now a whore

For my Derby League.

I realized the other day that a great way to help out my Roller Derby League would be to accept all those friend invites from random people I don't know so that I can post info on the bouts and stuff. And no, that doesn't mean I actually have to meet those people. Prior to this, i have only added as friends people I actually consider friends. with a couple of exceptions. I deleted most of those. This means that i don't have any MySpace friends in Reno.

I've decided to change that. For the good of my League.

I am now a whore.

Thinking outside the box

It has now been um, several days since I embarked on my journey of unemployment. Today, as I was showering, it occurred to me that not too long ago, I had a great idea for a small business. Since now may not be the time to be starting new businesses, (Still working on getting the soap back on line. AND not losing out on that house) I decided to curtail my business plan while still making use of the overall idea.

Basically, instead of JUST looking for jobs, I decided to try letting the jobs look for me. The following was recently posted on Craigslist. No, I did not actually post my resume. No, I did not give out my email address. Neither did I give my phone number. This might shoot me in the foot, but it also keeps the creepies from getting too close. And really, I'm trying to think out of the box, which is always a good idea even if it doesn't come out he way you thought.

Hey, whatever it takes. Plus, Seester says I many NOT go be a massage girl in a strip club because it will eat my soul. I'm pretty sure i want to keep that.


Girl Friday looking for a business in Need!

Multi talented, highly professional individual looking for someone to make use of and appreciate my skills. I am computer literate with 4+ years experience in Word, Excel, Outlook, and Project. My organizational skills and multitasking abilities are excellent. I take pride in excellent customer service whether my "customer" is public or professional. Experience in construction industries, healthcare, and food service among others.

I'm looking for something permanent in a setting where I can find satisfaction in a job well done. My resume is available upon request.

Please do not contact me with business opportunities, investment opportunities, or questionable moral hi-jinks.

This made me laugh. A lot

http://boobsinjuriesanddrpepper.blogspot.com/2008/02/better-left-unsaid.html#comments

Go there and read it before you continue. And the comments too.

So, one day, I was at the grocery with my mom, and we were in the hygiene aisle. and I looked up to the top shelf and asked very loudly, "Momi, what's a doo-che?"

After quickly hushing me she explained that a douche was something you clean yourself with. Then I got the explanation on how they aren't really very good for you and all that. My mother held very little back, especially when it came to personal cleanliness and how to maintain our nether regions.

So I think I knew deep down inside exactly what the strange rubber bag was when I saw it in my grandmother's shower. And thankfully I was smart enough not to touch it.

Findings

I am finding that I'm not altogether good at this whole job search thing. But I know I will learn and I will get better!

Had a good trip to San Francisco. I don't really like the city, but I had the my best trip yet. Wish I could have not worried about money, but that is a lesson I am learning right now. And really? I don't need more crap.

Actually, I am figuring out how the crap I have can make me some cash. I don't REALLY want to take the suggestion of one of the roller girls and go be a massage girl in a strip club. Even for $20 a song. But I'll do it if I need to, it's not like I'd have to take my clothes off or anything. I think...I wouldn't do that. ick.

Other thank that, things are good. I'll be picking up a little "side work" which will help while I find something permanent. And my Realtor says not to worry about anything right now. I'm glad he's willing to wait to jump off any bridges. We're all pooling our resources (I gave up my drum carder fund so that we have household money for food and stuff) and that's how it will be for a little while.

Poo and I are feeling confident in our futures. Cowboy is being very supportive. So is the rest of my friends and family.

Be careful what you wish for

Over the last six months, there have been times where I have been so frustrated at work that I have nearly walked out. Walked away and not looked back.

Responsibility has kept me there. The understanding that it is a means to an end kept me there. the concern over disappointing Poo kept me there. I even worked for free sometimes, clocking out and returning to work when there was a lot to do. Giving my all and everything every day. I was reminded a couple of weeks ago that I am foolish for skipping lunches, and for working over. "They", I was told, "will fire you in a second"

And today they did. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail because I don't want to bad mouth my former employer, but it was decided that I "don't know my ass from a hole in the ground" and off I went.

I don't tend to agree, but I accept the decision. It frees me to find something more suitable to me. A better fit. Something unrelated to the industry I was in. Because I don't think that industry is where I want to be anymore. I've been saying I want out. That this would be my last job in this industry. Even though that's where the money is, I'm not going back there. Not if I have a choice. But I'm not going to say never.

I'm free.

The story continues

If you didn't read the story from a couple of days ago, then go read that and come back. Unless you are my seester, in which case, seester, just read this part.

Yesterday, Poo called Carpet Guy's boss. Then he put me on the phone.

I told my story the best that I could. The boss was very apologetic. He assured me that Carpet Guy was not acting on his behalf. I tried to reassure him that I didn't figure that he was. He said it sounded like Carpet Guy had been drinking. (The general consensus is that he was doing something a little stronger. maybe Meth?) He said he would likely fire Carpet Guy today. He said, "I don't know what Carpet Guy was thinking, he's married!"

And I thought, wow. not only was he asking my to do something unethical, but something immoral too. Today, I scraped the stickers off my car to make it a little less "mine". (well, most of them. I only got half of one of them off before I lost my scraper. Thankfully it still makes sense) I will have to be very diligent now, not just in my professional dealings, but my personal ones too. I have to wonder how long it will be before I forget to look over my shoulder when I leave work. Before I stop checking over my car for key marks or worse.

And I was a lucky one.

The fact that there is a serial rapist and murderer running around my town affects me more than I ever thought it would. This is a pretty small town. Small enough that everyone is in everyone else's business. Small enough that it's not that far from where he picked up his last victim and where he left her. In a snowy field. All alone.

And I am here, all warm in my home. Planning for life.

Must be careful. If the rest of my life is as fantastic as it is right now, I don't want to miss it!

I was on the Tee Vee

So, I don't really know how to download this and post it on YouTube as Jestertunes requested, but I am providing a link to the video on the News Channel's website:

KREN

On the site, click on the "Rollergirls" link. If you watch carefully, I am wearing a black, short sleeve shirt with a white tank top over it. The tank top covers my red shorts. You will see those clearly at the end. I am one of the few girls in a white helmet too. There is proof here that I actually do push ups.

Missing in action

I don't think I have ever been absent for this long! And I have stories! Stories of the chupacabra. And a neglected life. but all that must be pushed aside for a story that will make you go, Wha? and for my Seester to get really upset. So Seester, don't read because I had another adventure the other day and you aren't going to like it.


Friday afternoon as I was counting down the minutes until I could wander off happily into the sunset on my way to Sacramento for a weekend of family goodness, I got a strange phone call. It went something like this

Man's Voice: Hi this is (garbled) with (garbled) and I would really like to meet with you after work to go over the numbers. Maybe dinner, are you hungry?maybe we could have lunch or a drink or just meet after work...

Me: no, I'm not hungry I had a big lunch, which numbers are those? (my sneaky attempt at figuring out who was on the phone. I knew it was either the carpet guy or my loan guy.)

voice: you know, the numbers, so can I pick you up after work...

at this point, I tried to explain that I was going out of town this weekend and I was not available to go out after work. Nevertheless, my conversation was insignificant as he continued to talk at me until I agreed to have him pick me up at work when I got off and have a quick drink to go over the numbers.

After I got off the phone, I went in to the girls and told them I had agreed to go for a drink but I didn't know with whom. Vicki made me comb my hair.

The person called back and I was able to discover that it was the carpet guy who said he made reservations at Outback Steakhouse (Right across the street. Last I checked, they don't take reservations, but they have changed ownership so that may have changed as well) and that he was running a little late. I reminded him that I was on a tight time schedule.

After giving Vic all his info, I went out to wait. While outside I learned that they had found a body which might be the girl that had been missing for several weeks in the area (yes, it was her. Please shed a tear for the theft of a life that had just begun. She was 19) He arrived about 20 minutes late. Yes, I should have just left. I did call to see where he was but there was no answer.

I climb into his truck and we head off. And he turns the opposite direction from Outback. Apparently, he decided to take me to a different restaurant. About 2 blocks down the road, I considered jumping out of the truck. He was driving me crazy.

Conversation bounced around from questions about me (apparently I am different from other girls around here and he is facinated with my green eyes. ick) to discussion about work. He asked me a lot of questions I couldn't answer, and a lot of questions I didn't want to answer. Inside information about other contractor's bids so that he could lowball the competititon. Totally not ok. Meanwhile, we are getting further and further from my car.

He turns up the road where I got my ticket. then turns down another road. I ask where we are going. Once again, he has changed the plans and we are on out way to his "step grandparents house. they are really rich, I will love it there. We'll just have one drink. they are out of town." I remind him that I need to get going. That I don't have time for a sit down meal, or for a visit. That I need to get back.

He's talking a mile a minute, we're heading down a dirt road in an exclusive neighborhood. He can't find the house and I am wondering how close he is to these grandparents if he doesn't know precisely where they live. He blames the snow and the recent development in the area. After he gives up on finding it and we turn around, it comes out that these people are actually an ex girlfriends grandparents but they are all still friends.

His stories keep changing.

He asks why I don't have a boyfriend. I pause, blinking twice to gather my thoughts

"Don't roll your eyes"

"I didn't. I was composing my answer. I don't have a boyfriend because sometimes that's how it is. I have someone I date. If it turns serious, great. If not, that's how it happens sometimes" (by the way, when I told Cowboy that part of the story he got very quiet. I didn't mention the "get serious part")

Apparently he would like to date me. We stopped at a gas station and I ducked into the bathroom (it was sheer force of will that I didn't pee on his car seat. full bladder, bumpy road.) I pondered whether I should come out. I thought about calling Vic.

On the way back to my work place,, he continued to scheme ways to get work from us. All of it included me giving him inside information. Some of it included undercutting his boss. It also included NOT telling Poo we had gone out and about or had those conversations.

He tried to suggest coming to Sac with me but I told him no. That I had plans while I was there and would be spending time with my family. (If I won't ask my cousin if she will put up a roller girl or two, why the hell would I ask her to host some guy?)

We hopped on the free way and I noticed his car was acting funny. We pulled over and found that his gas pedal was sticking. It was getting caught in the carpet. He broke it off. This did not fix the problem. Earlier, he told me he had the truck for a couple of months. At this point, he revealed it to be a couple of years.

He approached me again about dating. I took the diplomatic route and told him he was too high energy for me. (I'm really quite mellow. I couldn't get a word in edgewise) we agreed to be friends. He said that he was nervous because he likes me and that because he is nervous, he had a couple of drinks before he came and picked me up. (I did not smell alcohol on him but wondered if he wasn't on some sort of drug. The couple of drinks story did not match the story he told me earlier about being at a job site) I was shocked that a man would drink and then pick someone up for a business meeting. But then, we know now that it wasn't strictly business, don't we? He dropped me off at my car and went on his way. I went home and promptly told Poo the whole story. He informed me that a coworker got fired for dating a contractor at her last job. There is now a policy about dating contractors. If not a work policy, a personal one. Poo said he would take care of it.

I don't want to get the guy fired or anything, but he was asking me to do unethical things. Things that could get ME fired. And he was asking me to hide things. I tend to believe that if I have to hide something, I shouldn't be doing it. Plus, I was VERY uncomfortable.

I called Vic when I got back in my car and told her the whole story. She wonders if he isn't a possible suspect in Brianna's disappearance. Her ex husband, the Marshal wondered the same. I just learned that the suspect targets women with long hair who are in good shape. I also learned that the carpet guy does not match the description of the offender.

Regardless, I am reminded that I am blessed and protected. That sometimes I make decisions that are not for the best (I had met this guy before and did not get a weird feeling from him. He seemed very normal and professional) and that I thought I was done having those adventures. I am reminded that I need to be ever vigilant.

I won't be having off site meetings with contractors anymore. I realized that there aren't any numbers to be discussed that can't be discussed at my desk or with my boss. There is no meeting that can't wait until Monday.

Be safe.


The rest of my weekend was blessedly uneventful.

Ah, memories

Remember how when you were a kid, all the cool kids have their own skates? All white and pristine, they could twirl and skate backwards. they could skate much faster than you could on your rental skates. But your own skates were out of the question because you didn't really go to the rink that often.

Well now I DO go to the rink that often. And I'm a grown up so I can buy myself the GOOD skates. Not the best. But good enough. For me. Even though I'm supposed to be saving for a down payment. But I paid CASH damnit, and I work hard. And I have a lot of frustrations to take to the rink.

And why am I explaining myself to you?

I'm one of the cool kids now. Or, at least, I would be if I weren't such a geek. I already ran into the kitchen cabinets and over an oreo.

It all happened so rapidly!

This weekend went by in kind of a blur.
Friday night, Cowboy was busy so I headed down to the Zephyr for some Rockabilly fun. Here's what I found:

Bands:

Mosquito Bandito
A one man band. Played the drums, guitar,and sang. In the words of a fellow Roller Girl, "Who told him he sounded good?"

Another band
I don't know their name. But they were a lot more Rock than a billy. I mean, they had the stand up bass and the boufonted lead singer/guitarist, but I have never experienced Rockabilly with so much screaming. The bass player (the bass was held together with duct tape) looked and dressed a lot like Tom Green in Charlie's Angels. The drummer had wild crazy eyes like Pete Dougherty. And then, there was the guy with the washboard. Or at least the metal part of it. Hanging around his neck. And a cowbell hanging from that. I knew he was skinny because his jeans were fitted enough to show hie spindly legs. Then he took his shirt off. Heroin Chic. Put that shit back on. really.

Xenophobes
I need to look that up because it's a real word and I don't know what they were afraid of. But they were pretty good.

Roller Girls:
They were crazy. It was like wrestlemania in there. I didn't join in per say, but I did push back a little. and, came out with a cigarette burn on my arm. Now, those who have seen it tell me it's not a big deal, but I really think that seeing burning embers on your arm constitutes a war wound. burning embers, damnit. No, I wasn't pissed. I thought it was kind of funny, but I can say that it was a strange experience for this California Girl to be in a bar where they were smoking. And apparently, there's no last call here. Not that I was out that late, I went home about midnight, but no. last. call. wow.

Went and looked at houses. I liked one. a lot. cross your fingers.

Hung out with Cowboy Saturday night. It was a good thing. and I was able to avoid Clint who still has not gone home.

today was quiet. i spent a lot of time in my room.

Meme from craig

go to photobucket and search for the answers to the questions. Post the first picture

1. Age next birthday


2. Place I would like to travel


3. Favorite Place


4.Favorite Subject


5.Favorite Food


6. Favorite Animal


7. Favorite Color


8. Town where you were born


9. town where you live now


10. Pet's name


11. Usually Written on you after a long night drinking


12. Your Nickname


13. Your Middle Name


14. Your Last Name

My long affair with Wally

I met Wally years ago when he moved to my town. Like any bored teen, I was smitten. Wally entertained my friends and I late at night. Wally encouraged my favorite addiction.

Over the years, I continued to love Wally even though I knew he was bad. Boyfriends came and went, but always, Wally was there. Remember, he entertained, he supported my habits (and cheaply!) Wally could provide whatever I wanted at any time, and, as I started to travel, anywhere!

Recently, I decided to break off my love affair with Wally. Wally has some habits that I don't agree with. Wally was unkind to my sister. Wally and I have severely different political views.

So I left Wally and did not return. I left Wally on December 22, 2007 and didn't turn back. I decided to get my fix with the frenchman. Since the Frenchman lives far way, my fix isn't so close, and I don't indulge as often. (Sometimes it was several times a day!)

Today, I visited Wally. I didn't get my fix, I needed something else. What the fuck did I ever see in Wally?

side note:
Daddy called today. Needed money. Of course I did. At least I don't think I have to worry about him trying to move up here (not that he has suggested it, but if he isn't afraid to ask for money, what is to stop him from asking to stay for a bit?). He seemed positively HORRIFIED by the concept of snow. I like it. hee.

I've been trapped in a lot of pipe dreams

A couple of days ago, a woman I know, as my mom put it, took her life. Never have i felt so much like she made the decision that was right for her. This is a feeling I never thought I would experience after a friend committed suicide.
It's strange, but I feel at peace with her decision. I know she had some personal struggles, and I can't help but feel like she decided that it was time for her to be done living, so she went.
It was pills. She went to sleep and never woke up. Left a note for her husband. I've always thought that suicide is the most selfish thing you can do. That when you aren't strong enough to struggle through life like the rest of us, then you take yourself out. I don't feel that way this time. My perception of the act has changed. I accept completely the passing of my sister starseed. I know she did what she needed to do.

In other news, I have been looking for a house. I've actually entered several and I am finding that the options within my price range are total dumps. Part of this is because I want horse property (not really so I can have a horse right now, although I might someday, but because I like land and maybe another goat. I miss the goat)
So Poo tells me, that when he buys his large parcel of land that I can have a chunk. and build a house. And it will be mine. And wouldn't you know, a lovely floor plan is taped to my desk right now.
But then, he's had a few.
And would I feel guilty taking that land from him the way I feel guilty about living in his apartment? And could I use the loan I have prequalified for and build a house?
Will I put aside what I am doing now only to find it fall through and I missed my opportunity for a low cost home? Should I buy now, take the land, sell and use the money to build?
That land, that start, could make so many of my dreams come true.
Is it tangible or daydreams?

I just want to make the right choice.

Dear Poo,

I understand that you are just looking out for my best interests. And I had originally planned to use the realtor that is the wife of a friend. But as I told you a couple of days ago, I want to give this guy a try. he seems to be really interested in making this happen for me. The right way. He's not pushy, he seems honest.

In case you haven't noticed, I like to do things my way. I will listen, but if I have mapped a course of action, I'm going to follow it. I know you are worried, I know you have experience in home buying. But I think you have not noticed that the more you push me, the more stubborn I will be. Maybe you are forgetting because you have been drinking, I don't know. But when I am ready for help. I will ask for it. I like to do things my way. Being lectured will only piss me off.

sincerely,
G

PS-I decided that there were too many issues with this home both personal and structural.
PSS- BTW, telling me that I'm just like my mother in the middle of arguments or when I disagree with you? not a good way to win me over to your side of the argument.

Dear Poo,

I wish I knew how to comfort you right now, but I think what you want most is for me to not see you upset. You knew this would happen eventually. That the time would come. I think you hoped you were wrong last week when you told me it would happen soon. In the next two weeks you said. Come to think of it, I think it was the day before yesterday. Maybe the day before that.

You tell me you don't know what to do. I think you know what to do but you don't want to. All I know is what I would do in your situation and I hope, for your sake, that you will do that too. It's time. In so many ways it's time. There won't be another opportunity, so go now. Don't have that regret. If not for him, go for you. I see how it hurts that you didn't take your last opportunity. It haunts you. Say goodbye. It will heal you.

Love,
Me

I'll follow the sun

I've always had a fondness for rain. This is likely because it is pretty rare in San Diego. But I like it. I like watching it run down the windows of my car, I like feeling rain drops on my face.

Snow gives it a whole new dimension. The snowflakes sit on my face just a little bit longer; lingering like tiny frozen kisses. And when tiny perfect snowflakes dust my car, it's as if someone is gifting me with hundreds of tiny stars. A wonderful show just for me. I could probably watch it for minutes. Many minutes.

I love it.

Dear Cowboy,

I hope you understand how much I understand that it puts you in a funk when you talk to your ex wife. Knowing that she is regretful now must make it hurt even more although you know you would not be happy with her. I realize that he and I were never married, but I have been there before. I have walked in your shoes. I hope that I can one day express that without it sounding like I am diminishing your pain. I think you know I wouldn't do that.

And the other one? The one I don't think I have talked about except in very minor ways to you? That one would throw me in a loop if he contacted me. It's a good thing I don't have to worry about that. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to tell you about that one too.

I also hope that you realize that I am truly excited by your planning and your schemes. Partially because I think you are an intelligent individual with an excellent grasp of business and a well rounded view of the direction you want to go. It's admirable. It's inspiring. It's also because I think those schemes are likely to keep you nearby. That's the part where I am a little bit selfish. If you went off to greener pastures, I would understand. I would wish you the best and success. But I don't think we would stay in touch.

I think you know that every moment I spend with you is an investment and a gamble. It's funny how I will gamble with my emotions and not my cash

G

I am my mother's daughter after all

My mom grew up in a house full of boys. Out of 8 children, there were only 2 girls. You can imagine that she was a tomboy. Actually, she was the very picture of a tomboy. Broke her nose playing baseball. Got in fights protecting her sister and brother's honor (in those days, being Native American was not accepted. My aunt and uncle are half-or-something) Ran around without a shirt until she was 11.

I am like her more than I like to admit sometimes even though she is an amazing woman. My mom taught me many things. She taught me about see-food. She taught me about dancing. (My mother dances like no other... She has her own style.)

Today, I channeled her like I am embarrassed to say is possible.

In order to get to my cube, I have to pass the desk of one of the assistant chief engineers. Today, after I ambled past, he started the following conversation; (words may have changed slightly on account of my memory)

"You know, every time you walk past, I get a cold breeze. You really need to do something about that"

Blink.

"I could fart every time I walk past and you'll get a warm breeze but,"

"I'll take the cold breeze"

My ass is killing me

I finished my fourth derby practice last night by breaking through a small group of blockers and then, at the point where I would have scored a point had we actually been playing, hitting the rink. I scraped my knee through my knee pad to achieve my first Reno Derby injury.

And, having completed my trial, I am now a Reno Roller Girl, and while on probation, thrilled to be in the league. I'm not sure if I have mentioned how welcoming they are and how pleased I am to be a part of it, even newly so. But I won't gush about it forever, just as long as I can't walk for the pains in my groin. Seriously. Ow. AND I can't WAIT to make a roller monkey. It's all planned out in my head. Too bad I'm lazy, it might take awhile to actually make it happen.

I'm skipping practice tonight, having completed my two a week requirements, mostly because it doesn't start until 9 which means no beddy bye until midnight or so. Way too late for this sleepyhead! I'd like to see cowboy, but I doubt I will at this point, so I think I am going to settle in for an evening of sewing or spinning. And movie watching. and probably sleeping because it kinda hurts to do anything else.

My room is clean! but my closet isn't

I need to find a new home. It's past time.

The thing that frightens me about that is that I feel very uncertain about the job. I had another run in with that coworker the other day, and since our other issues found their way to the general manager's ear, I have no doubt that this one will too. I have witnesses, and I told Poo right away what happened, but I do not have faith that I will come out smelling rosey even though I didn't do anything wrong. I think it angers me most of all that the GM hears about these things. Petty power struggles between two individuals that should be working together, who's job descriptions are completely different, but reliant in many ways upon each other. They shouldn't be happening, they shouldn't be bothering the GM. She's a busy lady and we aren't even management. It's unprofessional.

If this were my only problem there, I would pass it off as a clash between us two. But simple projects that should take two days, stretch into four. Or, they don't get completed. Or I try to schedule and plan and the supervisors start without consulting me. Management? encourages it in many ways with their "right now whatever it takes" attitude. And I keep reminding myself that "If you don't have time to do it right, when are you going to have time to fix it?"

I want to be successful there. I want to do it right. My frustrations are pushing me into an unhealthy level of apathy that I don't care for. I push paper around. I try to get people paid (accounts payable is too busy to pay my bills, when they haven't lost them completely). I try to keep track of things that are encased in people's heads. I try to keep track of projects that people start around me. And it's frustrating. And disheartening.

I stay for the sake of Poo.

The train whistles don't wake me anymore

I was reminded on the way home from Cowboy's tonight of how I used to ride the bus when I was younger. I missed the bus a lot.

As I drove past the bus stop in Cowboy's neighborhood, I pondered the idea that the local kids probably get a ride to the stop. Each morning, as with some of my bus mates, their parents wait with them, cars running, heater on, in time for the school bus in the morning.

For us, a car ride to the bus stop was a rare and special treat usually provided by the next door neighbor. More often then not, we ran to catch the bus that would take us the approximately 8 miles to school. (it sure seemed further than that) On cold days, my still wet hair would freeze a bit and I constantly had shin splints from running down hill in cheap shoes. There were many times that I missed the bus and my parents never knew. A neighbor would take me in to town. There were many times when I had to slink back up the hill, a good half mile or so and explain that I didn't make it. Again. There was nothing like the horrible feeling when I would watch the bus drive away. No amount of waving would get the driver to stop on those days. Later, she would admit, she thought it was funny. She could see us in the rearview mirror. Missing the bus meant big trouble for me. You would think I would have learned to be punctual.

The first time it happened, I thought I could walk to school. We had just moved to the country from the city and I had no idea just how long it would take to walk, I just knew that I had to get there. At 12, it didn't occur to me that I shouldn't walk up a long windy road without sidewalks. I was still within sight of the bus stop when a car pulled over.

"I'm Kelly's Dad" he said, as he offered me a ride. I got in. A bit down the road I realized that I had a lot more to be worried about than the wrath of my parents. (at the time, it was about equal, actually) I prayed that nothing bad would happen. When I got out safely at my school, I worried that someone would find out.

I remember telling a friend. I didn't have many. I don't know who told my sister or cousin (I don't remember which found out first) I don't remember the punishment even though I sure there was one. I never took another ride to school with a stranger.

Happy HNT-Roller Gear Edition

It's become increasingly interesting to get all of what I want to put in the little bit o picture I have on my computer camera. I use it because my digital camera is so often just too much trouble. Yes. I am that lazy.

Meanwhile, I went to my second practice with the Reno Roller Girls tonight and they are, so far, everything I think a team should be. They have been welcoming, helpful, and supportive. And I haven't even really started with the real practices yet. Next week though, it's gonna be tough.

I try really hard not to talk to much about the practicing I did before. I don't want anyone to think I am making comparisons even though I am a little bit. I also don't want to come across as something I am not. I never got to try out. I was never beyond the "probationary" period. I do my best to make that clear. The two teams are definately different, and I think I will be a better fit in this one.

I'm also going to have to break down and get some skates. I know I have said this before, but since my skates are in storage, and I have been using rentals, I am simply miserable. My feet are killing me. Granted, the rink skates are WAY faster, but they rub me wrong and tend to have funny arches. I don't have arches. ow. Ebay here I come...

At least the stove won't catch fire anymore

It's been a fun and exciting couple of days. Between high stresses at work, flying home for a wedding, and my first Reno Roller Girls practice tonight, I am feeling a bit crazy!

Work...I don't talk about it much, but I have recently been handed some challenges that I am trying to work through. It's being tough. It's being frustrating. But I am trying to work through it. no pun intended

The wedding was great! I snuck Drunk Monkey into the reception and had a great time with my family. The only bad thing? really? The smell. Brawley, CA smells like agriculture which, for the uninitiated, that night, smelled like chicken shit. Then we almost caught fire on some live electrical wires in the parking lot. But, the night was over by then and no one was hurt. While gone, I decided three things.

When the town smells like chicken shit, no one will notice if you fart.
I'm considering tattooing "pull" on my right index finger.
I'm considering "smell" for my left.

I'm kidding about the tattoos, but my cousin says it's no wonder I'm not married. My other cousin offernd me a job making 50 thou a year as a leagal secretary and a free apartment. I declined as I really want to make it here. I just arrived, after all. But If I find myself without a job, I'm supposed to call.

Spending time with my mom on Sunday was wonderful, and when the whole available crew came to the airport to send me o
off, I was pleased beyond belief.

I worried about having left my car unlocked at the airport all weekend. And, yeah, I did. I'm a lucky, lucky, girl. Still have a car, still have everything I left in my car.

Yesterday was another stresser. I owrked so long I missed my chiropractor appointment. Thankfully, I was able to reschedule.

And now, I'm going to skip my other news in light of the fact that I need to get ready to go skate. YAY!

HNT

I know it's a little early, but I don't know if I will have time to post tomorrow. I love this picture.

Meanwhile, I have declared myself in need of an attitude adjustment. You see, when I moved here, I told myself that I should not try and compare Reno with San Diego because they are different cities. It isn't fair.

I then proceeded to compare my old job place with my new one. And although the new company isn't always what I think it should be, it's different from the old one. And when I think back, the old one had its issues too. I wouldn't have been unhappy, I wouldn't have left, if it was perfect. So while I'm not always sure that the new place is a good fit, the old one wasn't always either. And honestly? I think I will only be super duper happy working for myself. And that's ok. I just need to get there.

Good Advice, my friend

T used to tell me that one of the first rules of fighting is that you should never fight with a nakid man. I don't remember any of the other rules, but that one certainly stuck.

Now, I'm not much of a fighter, and I never really understood why he would tell me such a thing.

Tonight, I watched "Eastern Promise" with Poo and Boy Roomie.

Now that I have seen a man fighting nakid, I hope I don't have to see it again. What ever happened to the good old days when they pixellated that stuff?

For Viggo's sake, I hope it was cold in there.

Of Grandmas and Men

Listening to Cowboy talk to me about the hurts he is feeling right now, two of them, actually, his ailing grandmother being one, I am reminded that it has been six years, I think, since Ma died.

The day is fresh in my mind. I will never forget her final moments. I'll never forget having to call my dad and tell him she passed. I'll never forget kneeling at the feet of her roomate who had been praying for her all day to tell her she was gone.

I'll never forget my ex that night in bed asking why I was crying. Seven months later, it was over.

There's nothing that can be said to relieve the pain he is feeling. I pray that she makes it through this time. Because while you are never really ready to let someone go, it's nice to have a little bit of time to prepare. And he has gone through so much in the last year that I think he needs the comfort of knowing his grandmother is there.

I'm glad he went to visit her a couple of months ago. He hadn't seeen her in a few years.

He says he thinks shes ready though. Grandpa went in 1970 and she never remarried. I remember wheen my Great Grandfather died. It wasn't long before that, he had a dream that my Great Grandmother came to visit. He was ready. Not long before Ma died, her mother came to her and told her to quit bein silly. Or stubborn. Either would have fit. I wanted to ask Cowboy if she had any visits yet. He tends to think I am too close to the spirit world as it is. People can only hear so many ghost stories before they start thinking you're nuts.

But he was telling me of his other sorrow. Another one that I understand. That hurt I don't like to talk about. The one that still brings tears even though there has been no contact since August. I try not to, but I think of him still. Not because I still think there is hope, but because I care. And I worry about his happiness even though it isn't my business anymore.

I worry that I am rushing headlong into another heartbreak. It's a gamble. Just when I decide I don't have anything more to bet, I get a little jackpot. Enough to keep me going until I decide I have nothing left again. I wonder if the prize is worth it. I wonder if i will still want it if I get it.

If I get it.

I've never been very good at gambling. Except maybe with my emotions.

In other news, Clint is here again today. I was really pretty bitter about it until he helped Poo put the chains on my car. It's really hard to dislike someone who is rolling around in the snow for your safety. Sigh.

I almost forgot.

current savings. $19.02 and 10 little balls of felt. pparently I'm not a very good saver.

Music

Ok, so, it's not really my style, but I have to help out an old friend who is practically a brother. I mean, our parents are really good friends and his brother MARRIED my best friend and now she's pregnant so really, guys, it's all about the children.

So anyway, I guess Jon, who plays bass for this band and can be seen periodically through out the video playing or talking on a cell phone, or up close at minute 3:02 (Jon? Where did your hair go? Did you lose it at the grocery store like Great Grandpa? He was a red head too, you know) is in some kind of best/worst contest for the greater Seattle area so I thought I would post his video for all 6 of you who read this so that maybe you'll watch it and his band, The Goondocks will be launched to international noteriety and Jon will not have to launch his porn career after all (I'm pretty sure I'm kidding about that) and I will be able to say that I count among my friends, a comedian, an artist, and a rock star.The only differnce being that I dated the comedian and the artist but Jon? Um well. We weren't each other's type. Ok, he tried to suck on my toes once but I kicked him in the mouth because, EEW GROSS! Get my foot OUT of your mouth! Jeez! (I felt bad for kciking him in the mouth but he snuck up on me) So here's the You Tube video...



and the link if you want to vote...http://www.seattlechannel.org/TheLocalMusicShow/bestNWMusicVideos.asp

I'm going to vote right now. And then maybe Jon will fly south to visit more often because you know, Reno, it's a rockin venue.

Really, it's just keeping me in line

Last week, I think I was starting to get a little scared. You see, it's almost the new year. January. And I said that I would contact a realtor after the first of the year. Which means over the next couple of months I will (hopefully) be making one of the largest purchases of my life. Alone. On an income from a job I don't know if I want to keep. I am grateful for it, and I have every inteention of doing the best that I can at it. I'm just not sure it's a good fit for me.

So I was feeling a little scared. And comfortable in the situation I'm in. After all, I have a nice, comfortable home, and I don't pay for anything.

Ok that part makes me feel a bit badly.

But this weekend, I am back on track. By 8:30, I was getting REALLY cranky with the talking heads. I like football, in small doses. The TV went on at 1 pm. After the Dallas game, Poo said I could change it. I thanked him and started watching a movie. then BR came over. and the TV flipped back and forth between my movie and the football game. I could have gone and watched TV in Poo's room, but I don't have enough room to spin in there. (and I don't hand out in other people's bedrooms) And I was on a spinning ROLL this weekend.

Then Clint came over. Third day in a row. Which means Poo and my little dinner turned into a bigger production. And as the beer got consumed, the conversation got louder. BR left not long after the conversation turned to work. Finally, I couldn't handle the work talk anymore. I don't want to spend my weekend talking about it. When I am off, I like to forget I have a job. It's something I have trouble doing because I have a tendency to be a workaholic. By Sunday, I start worrying about getting up on Monday. The projects I need to check on. The everything that needs to be out of my head when I am not at work so I don't get burned out. I am good at distracting myself from work thoughts. Until the beer starts pouring and the discussion starts. It's not just when Clint is here, but he does contribute.

I finally had to go to my room and shut the door. Turn on music so that their voices don't come through.

And I am reminded that I need to be out on my own. In my space. Quiet space. Doing the things I love to do without worrying if I am in someone's way, or whether I will have unexpected visitors. (Clint doesn't call, he just shows up, which I probably wouldn't mind if I liked him)

For that reminder, I also remember to be thankful. Because I believe that my frustrations this weekend are the Universe's way of telling me that I need to stay on track. I have faith that I am going in the right direction with my away-from-work life. (yes, even with Cowboy) I have faith that the right home will be available at the right price, and that the job situation will be solved. The one I have came along to get me into a situation where I could buy a home and make something of my soap. It took me in a new direction completely, but it doesn't have to be permenant. I can't just sit back and let these things happen though, that's not how the world works. This weekend was a kick in my butt to get me moving when I was tempted to stop. For that I am greatful

I havve decided

That I need a drum carder. (this is a gaget that will make my wool processing easier)

I am fortunate to have been gifted with many, many pounds of unprocessed Alpaca fiber. Soft, luxurious, warm, Alpaca. It is pretty clean but not ready for spinning. I can card a couple of ounces each night before I start to get blisters on my hands. It will cost at least $10 per pound to have everything processed by a mill. I am also exploring the idea of trading fiber for drum carder time with a local spinner who has one. As soon as I find one.

So, I have decided that I need one. They are really expensive. (for me) This isn't a "need" as much as a home is a need so I will NOT dip into savings for it and I certainly WILL NOT use my credit card. That is, after all, how I ended up in debt in the first place. Instead, I will be doing what I did when I started saving for my car. I'll be collecting loose change in a can. (yeah, I walked into the car dealership with my can-o-two thousand dollars. I am ca-lassy!) You know, whatever is in my wallet or comes in "extra" goes into the can. I wanted to create a widget on my blog so you can follow along with me (this is a tool that helps keep me on track. otherwise I forget what I am doing. I have to make up "games" to keep me focused. You would be amazed at how I have learned to cope with the way my brain works this way) but I ran into the same old issue. I couldn't find one existing, and I don't know how to make one.

If I understood HTML, if my brain didn't shut off every time the term came into play (I once checked a book out from the library to learn it but couldn't get past the first couple of pages. HTML for kids? nope. I'm just not language savy) I would be making my lovely widget right now instead of just talking about it. I would also have made my website beautiful by now instead of fucking around with widgets.

Current savings: $19.05 and 9 balls of felted wool. I think I am going to go couch digging. because right now I am 4/10 of the way there and I am feeling really optimistic!

I'm going to go play with Excel to make myself a graph. Graphing on Excel is fun.

Blessings

Upon Jestertunes who distractedme from my pissedoffedness with fun starry goodness. I didn't solve all the puzzles, but this time, there was a more important goal. sadly, I think Clint is here for the night.

Dear Clint

Won't you please go now?

You come to my house. You feed Poo beer. He drinks enough on his own. tonight you brought TWO twelve packs and a fifth of Jack. Poo. I think, he had been planning on a quiet evening with his wood carving. I really wanted to play with my spinning wheel and maybe my new ball winder and swift combo (thank you Nana and Grandpa!) and was a little dissapointed when I realized that I had my Bad Girls of Craft meeting tonight. Until you showed up. Then I was glad.

I don't like not liking you. Especially when you tell me what a quality person I am. And since I went strait to my room when I got home, you entered my bedroom to do it.

This is my space. It's all I have to call "mine". I don't allow people in my room, usually. BR comes in. I don't really mind. He doesn't stick around. he doesn't take up space. But I didn't really want you in here. You don't know that. One would hope that the 40 pounds of alpaca fiber blocking my door would have stopped you.

It's 10 pm. And I want to go to bed now. Not because I am tired. Not because I don't have other things I want to do, not because I wouldn't rather be out in the common area crafting. Because I don't want to hang out with you.

times like this, I wish cowboy and I had a spend the night kind of relationship. that I could have called him while I was out and gone over there instead of comeing home and dealing with drunkiness.

Instead, the TV is loud, the trash is overflowing, someone burned the popcorn, and I am trapped in my room.

Befriend the girl holding her pointy things

I never knew that knitting would make me so many friends. Apparently, there is something soothing about a woman and her yarn. And 12 inch metal sticks with semi sharp points on the end.

You see, knitting needles are legal on airplanes. And THANK GOODNESS for that because I don't know what I would do with myself otherwise. Especially on return trips when I have finished both the books I took with me. On the way there, I had nice conversations with a woman while we waiting for our flight. Then I made friends with another woman on the way. Within 5 minutes, she gave me her business card with her personal number on it. She would like to accompany me on my explorations of the great state of Nevada.

Then, on the way home, I got another phone number but since this one was from someone I already know, it doesn't really count. Honestly, if ever we should meet, part, and then meet again, don't be angry if I don't recognize you. My brain is so filled with useless information (did I mention that Santa farts pepperminty? speaking of farts, someone was farting on the plane on the way home and it wasn't me. I think I was having premonitions because all I could think about on the way to SD was what happens when someone has gas on the plane) that I can't remember important things like what people look like even if I have met them several times. ANYWAY, the lady next to me chatted me up all the way home, which was cool because she was nice. She did not give me her phone number. I'm okay with that.

Writing this, I am wondering if they befriended the girl with the pointy objects because who better to know if a terrorist takes over than the person on the plane with sharp pointy objects? after all my scissors could prick a finger. I feel so used. But in a cool superhero sort of way. It appears that I would have knitting needles hanging out of my utility belt. and um, yarn cuffs, yeah.

I think I am going to have to revise my superhero outfit. thankfully, my new utility belt does not get in the way of my kung fu hair and vice grip thighs.

Crap. I just totally lost my train of though while trying to find the superhero posts then link to them. fuck it. goodnight.

Thursday

I decided not to go to the work party. There are several reasons for this.

My friend Vicki is not going. Which means I would not have anyone to play with. I don't do well in social situations without someone to cling to and Flo and I just aren't that close.

This saved me from having to buy a new dress. Saving money is a good thing, especially since I plan to contact a realtor after the new year.

I need to pack

Before I pack, I need to do laundry.



So, I'm prying my shoes off my feet when Cowboy calls. Chat chat, bitch about work, chat, ok bye. We'll talk again after I get back, and no, I didn't ask if he didn't want company tonight. Generally, I would, but I am feeling stubborn and if he wasn't offerin, neither was I. But it was nice to hear that he had not pulled a fade away, and perhaps things will be back to "normal" when I return. It's like I told Vicki, I go through this about once a month. So roll your eyes and I will update you if anything changes.


In happier news, I FINALLY updated my links. There are so many blogs that I read every day and I just wasn't getting around to linking to them even though some of them have links to me (ahem, puntabulous) so there they are. It's about damn time.

This, that, and another thing

I'm really looking forward to flying South for the Winter (holiday).

Last night I was smart enough to pull Jack off my window before I rolled it down to get money from the bank. When I rolled it down to order El Pollo Loco, I forgot again. The stick and cup is now lost somewhere in door land. Jack is now rolling around in my car. I'm sure I will find him several years from now and I will have a good laugh.

Work is pissing me off a lot lately. I have been venting onto Twitter. it's fun because I can't blog from work, but I can text Twitter!

I have been out dress shopping for something to wear to my work party tomorrow. The current fashion is not flattering on me as usual. Reno does not have any good clothing stores, and I have champagne taste. Since I have not purchased a dress, I went down to the garage to see if there might be something near the door (I have many, lovely, flattering gowns that I would be thrilled to wear. If I could get to them...) I didn't find a dress, but I did find my pin nailer and a few other things I have been wanting. I have to agree with my mom on this, when I do finally unpack, it's gonna be like Christmas.

Speaking of the Holiday party tomorrow, I really wanted to ask Cowboy if he would escort me. There are three reasons for this. I like his company, I'd like to have a date, and perhaps if I show up with a date, it would help dispell that lingering rumor that I am Poo's girlfriend/mistress, whatever. I admit, I forgot to ask last week like I intended. I called Monday with the usual "seein whatcha doin" message. I never heard back. Perhaps he is busy. perhaps out of town. perhaps he really did pull a fade away, something I had hoped he was above. Thing is, I go through this every couple of weeks. things are great, then he falls off for a day or two and I convince myself it's over. Then he calls again. And that is how it's been. I don't talk about it because I know that you all have opinions on the subject and honestly, there's nothing you can say in any way shape or form, from any direction that I have not said to myself. And the beat goes on. So tomorrow? I will be attending my company party on my own. I'll be sure to post pictures in my gown because I plan to look fantastic. I'll sweep (ahem...trip) into the room with my head held high and smiling and I will have a great time with my coworkers.

Clint showed up the other night. All full of "I missed you"s and bearing stuffed animal gifts. I tried to be gracious. I did not wipe my cheek when ke kissed it though I dearly wanted to. He stayed for several beers. I didn't really have much to say. I don't really know what to to with the bear (I will likely donate it) since I'm not really a stuffed animal kind of girl. Drunk Monkey is not a stuffed animal, and anything else I have has sentimental stories. (Like the dog I bought my grandmother while she was in the hospital to keep her company) It was a nice gift, but the part of me that is still angry because he disspointed me so much doesn't want it. I know I should be forgiving, but generally, when I decide I'd rather not see someone again, I mean it. So when they wander back into my life, it's difficult for me to accept them back because they are out of my head.

Why don't I decide I never want to see Cowboy again? I don't really know. I like him as a person and I enjoy his company. It's actually rare that I don't want to keep someone around. It's not like we bicker all the time like Biker Bob and I did, I just know that he's a bit here-today-gone-tomorrow. I just realized that perhaps I was nervous about making plans with him because they rarely go through. He might be feeling poorly, or something comes up. All our outings are always spur of the moment. And asking him to the party would have meant plans. Plans that might have been cancelled. Leaving me devestated because in my head I had a date and in reality, I didn't. Better to go alone, then. I rarely dissapoint myself and I sure know how to show me a good time!

Christmas memories

So frequently, the stories I tell of my childhood (though rarely here, as this seems to be more of a running commentary on the wackiness now, instead of the wackiness then) are filled with the kind of ugliness that I hope I would never visit upon my children. Don't get me wrong, I was blessed in so many ways, but it wasn't always pretty.

So, I'm watching a comercial for Walgreens tonight, and there are two children searching the house for their Christmas gifts. Seeing only Walgreens bags, they go away without finding them.

I remembered suddenly, that I never peeked. I believed my parents when they told us that they would know. That the presents were boobie trapped in such a way that they would see any tampering. That if we peeked, there would be no presents. Since I knew that my parents were older and smarter than I, (I was not yet a teenager) I believed them.

I cannot vouch for my siblings, but I was always surprised and delighted on Christmas morning to find that my parents had provided gifts that I had either asked for, or never knew I wanted. The electric train when I was 10 (I JUST gave that to my nephew. I hope they were able to get it working) that I wanted so badly (my flute teacher made fun of me for wanting it. I never understood why a girl couldn't have an electric train) The new Bike. A skateboard.

It must have been thrilling for my parents when they saw me surprised, to know I still believed they were smarter, and to know that in this one thing, I was obediant. They always made sure that the wrapped gifts were interesting enough to keep us guessing for weeks.

I'm looking forward again this year to the excitement of shaking presents. My mom is the queen of adding nuts, bells, rocks, and cans of soup to throw us off. Some things, as always, are obvious. Books (but which one???) Pillows. The unmistakable slide of clothes in a box.

For me, Christmas isn't about the birth of Christ. It's about spending time with my family and friends. It's about anticipating their delight in gifts I choose carefully. About being tipsy before noon, eating See's candy for breakfast, and taking a nap under the spell of Bing Crosby. My mom's roast beast and my sisters' smiles. Harassing my brother and the cat.

I know that these special feelings were planted carefully and fostered by my parents. With every threat, they were teaching us the joy of anticipation. With every set of flannel pajamas, the delight of a simple gift. And each Christmas, I felt loved and special. There's no greater blessing than that.

HNT-Am I nuts?

I've posted pictures of my boobs, up close. I've posted pictures of me in my bikini. Pictures of all sorts of HNT me. So why does this one make me nervous? (I see London, I see France...) Maybe it's the knee socks. They're provocative...

Your Karaoke Theme Song is "Baby Got Back"

You're a total show off who is willing to risk looking like a fool to get a few laughs. In fact, you'll go for the cheap laugh if you need to... because it's better than no reaction! Your friends can count on you to get a party started, and you'll party hard until you can't remember their names. You're charismatic, charming, and a total character. With or without a few drinks in you. You might also sing: "I Touch Myself," "Oops I Did it Again," or "My Humps" Stay away from people who sing: "Candle in the Wind"

What's Your Karaoke Theme Song?

Serious points to the person who can guess which of these Karaoke blockbusters I HAVE sung. Yes I was drunk, no I don't have a recording, but I sure wish I did!

I'm a dork.

Remember the Jack antenna ball? Did I mention I have one? Did I mention that I tried to stick it to my forehead? and no Seester, there were no unfortunate marks like that one time. (in hindsight that's a hilarious and classic story)

So, it didn't stick to my forhead. but I was noticing on the commercial the other day that the little stick was bent. So I bent mine and stuck it to the window where jack could talk to me while I drive. Shut up, he talks to me. Said something just this morning, but I forgot what it was. Oh wait, He said I should turn his head so he could look out the window. But I was driving and then I forgot.

Then, today, I forgot he was there. and I rolled down the window to use my gate key. I managed to save jack because his head is too big to fit in the window slot. But the suction cup is now wedged in the door jam window slot. And it's snowing.

Revelation

That people seem to forgo the acceptance of an individual in order to gain the acceptance of the group. I know it is human nature and part of the need to belong to your village, to not alienate the herd, but I must remind myself not to do this to MY friends.
Not that I have a herd. Never really have. They tend to turn me out too. And I've learned to live without them. I would rather be loved by a few than tolerated by many.

Accomplished!

I made a hat! it is not wonky! Now I will make another one that actually follows the pattern. heh.

PS Daddy got a job. I am so very pleased.

Bits and pieces

It's snowing, in case you haven't been keeping up with me on Twitter (which is the coolest thing since cookie scoops and stoneware.) Right now, two days into the storm, I love it. I saw real snowflakes today. They looked just like I always thought they should. Tiny and perfect little ice crystal formations. previously, all the snow I have seen has either looked like styrofoam balls or just chunks of icy stuff. Today? perfect crystals. gorgeous.

Meanwhile, I laid down in said snow and tried to make an snow angel, but it was too icy and I just got wet. Which was funny in and of itself.

I've been knitting like crazy. But I don't follow patterns very well. This might be one funky hat.

I had more to say but I have forgotten what it was.

Yarn Porn

In the comments section of my last post, Rick suggested that I start posting my art. I explained why I don't, and promised pictures. so here are a couple of yarns I have spun (and some roving I dyed) that I am particularly proud of.

I dyed this with easter egg dyes. The yarn came out lovely but I didn't take a picture. Sadly, the dye was not sun-proof.


Kool-Aide makes a damn fine yarn dye.

And there you have it. The reason I don't post my art.

like lead, really.

Something has been weighing heavily on my heart. Well, several things, actually, but I don't share everything. Public forum, you know.

Several posts ago, I was upset. I was venting. I was ranting a bit.

Because I do not want to be a hunter. (My fervor over this is something to be discussed at a later date) But that isn't what is bothering me.

Here's the thing.

Growing up, art was considered something wonderful. To be an artist was one of the greatest joys and compliments. It meant that you saw the world in a way that is both different and beautiful. It was not about painting so much as it was an open minded philosophy.

Now, I live with a person for whom the word artist is almost an insult. To him it means that you are flighty. Good for little more than decorating. Concerned about little more than flowers. One without logic.

I have allowed this thought process to poison me against who I really am. To the point that I denied something about myself that I once fought so hard to have recognized by someone I respect as an artist. For this I am ashamed.

I allowed someone to make me feel bad about what and who I am because it doesn't fit into his view of how people should act, behave, think. And although I respect this person in so many ways, he doesn't always act the way I think people should, but I try to accept that of him. It's not up to me to try and make a change.

It IS up to me to hold onto the things that I believe to be true. And Artist, as a label, IS NOT an insult. It means you see beauty in the world. It means that you make an effort to add to it whether by painting and drawing or creating an intricate hair braid. It means that you make a concious effort to affect the emotions of yourself and others. It means whatever you think it means too.

I feel so much better.

I vant one! I vant one!

https://www.mysharpie.com/sanford/consumer/sharpie/personalizesharpie/personalize.jhtml

Might be the coolest thing since personalized m&ms. Of course, I can never decide what I want to say when it comes to personalizing things (I really need to write that stuff down, because I can be unexpectedly brilliant and witty sometimes. In my head) so I didn't order any.

and now, off to the shower. I am gym-stinky. and hungry. but shower first.