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.

Derby Moments

Although scrimmaging was pretty sweet, I think my favorite moment of the evening was when I flashed my wife to get her to smile for the camera. It worked fantastically.

and no you can't see pictures, my boobs look like crap in that bra. And no, I won't take pictures so you can decide.

OH! and I promised puppy fun!!




CUTE!

The silence was deafining

SO I'm out with the Cowboy, and we're minding our business, chatting as usual, at a local casino where he had heard they had good pizza (fuckin liars. ok, it was edible. but not out of this world. And mostly it was good because it had BACON on it. )

Our waitress walks up (finally) to take our order and says the following:

"You two are so IN LOVE; you're just chattin away!!"

We both stared at her. You could hear the crickets over the sound of the slot machines (shut up, we didn't know the sports bar was open to the casino, neither of us had been there before)

She walked away and we returned to our previously scheduled conversation.

puppy pictures to come. I have more pictures of the dog than the man. That's not saying much...

Ah. That's why

It was wonderful having Poo back for a day, even though I didn't get to spend all that much time with him. I even skipped practice to spend more time with him.

But I was reminded last night after he drank a six pack and got on the phone with Clint why it is that I have enjoyed my time without a roommate. Actually, that wasn't so bad, but he left the lights on which made the bird mad and all the noise she made kept me awake.

Then I woke up all night long thinking it was too bright in my room.

Poo forgot to turn out the lights before he went to bed (they were still on this morning).

And yes, the lights on in the other room will wake me up. Ask my brother, who was afraid of the dark when he was little, and would get up in the middle of the night to turn on the hall light. Which always woke me up even though my bedroom door was closed.

I do hope that Poo gets the job in question though, and he is still, and always invited to come stay at my home for as long as he needs to. I'll just mentally prepare myself better this time for having another person in the house.

Call back to a previous Twitter

A couple of days ago, I tweeted vaguely about something that happened at work.

A coworker asked, who meets people on the internet. I replied that I met the guy I am dating on the internet.

He wanted to know his name so I told him.

Turns out he knows the Cowboy, as he used to come into his work and try and sell them parts (Cowboy is an outside parts salesman for a large truck company). Coworker never bought anything because they got all their parts from the competition, who is cheaper and has better service.

My coworker didn't really say much. I got the idea that he didn't much care for the Cowboy, and it bothered me.

I mentioned the conversation to Cowboy who remembered my coworker and seemed to be happy that he had a good job. I didn't mention the part of the story where I wasn't sure that my coworker liked him, only that he had wanted to order, but couldn't due to cost.

And still it bothered me.

I realized that I have been frequently plagued by my friends' and sometimes my family's disapproval of whomever I happened to be dating. They didn't always say so at the time, usually, it was always after the fact, "Oh, I didn't like him" or "I wasn't really sure what you were doing with that guy". "Are you sure he isn't gay?" and once, a "That guy??" (that was from an ex turned friend. our breakup was new and "that guy" was the first guy I dated after)

It is human nature to want our "tribe" to approve of the person we choose to spend our time with. In the absence of my family, my coworkers and the Roller Girls are all I have. I know that Poo likes the Cowboy, but I also know that he doesn't believe it's a lasting situation. Frankly, I don't know if it is either, but that's between Cowboy and I. He is the first guy I have gone on more than one date with that hasn't met my mother and at least one sibling.

These are the people in my world. Although I was accustomed to the people I met knowing somehow the people I knew (San Diego is kinda small that way) I have not encountered it here. Until now. I didn't like it and I felt insecure and I realized;

That mine is the only opinion that really matters.

My coworker may or may not like him, but what does that have to do with anything? My Derby Wife's boyfriend definately doesn't understand why I am okay with the status of things (he also keeps trying to find ways to introduce me to his friends), but who is he to say what is right for me at any given moment? He's a good guy, but he and DW have their issues too. And he had never seen us together; it seems to work for us right now. My Seester's silence every time Cowboy's name comes up speaks dictionaries. But I know where she is coming from. I understand. At least it's someone tangible now. At least it isn't T.

All I can say is that my eyes are wide open and my heart shut tight.

Which is how I choose to be as I spend my time with a man who isn't ready to have "a hook set in" him, but calls me almost every day.

Taking a different road

Not the high one, just different.

Be aware that I am going to be vague.

I had an opportunity tonight, to join in a conversation that sounded, from 15 feet away, like it was about someone. And it explained something from earlier in the evening. From the couple of words I heard, I understood the gist of the story. It sounded juicy.

This is the point where I usually go weasel my way into the conversation so that I can learn what is going on. I'm nosey. I like to know what is going on. Generally, I will admit this with pride. I have learned that she who has the information wins. If it is gossip, I rarely pass it along. I keep it with me where it festers sometimes, or I forget it sometimes. Most often, I file it away for future reference.

Tonight I had the opportunity to follow my instincts, or not. I started to. I took the first step.

Then I realized I didn't want to. Because it's a bit of a problem. And I don't want to feed it anymore. So I left. It was easier than I thought it would be.

Quake watch 2008

C sent me this way cool link. So I am sharing it with you. Only I zoomed in a little bit.



Now you can see when my world wiggles. Like it did a minute ago. OH! and the money appeared in my bank! WHEE! The earthquakes can be the cause of good things too.

Apparently, I am making up for lost blogs

In case this hasn't been making the national news, you should know that Reno has been hit with what can only be considered a swarm of earthquakes over the last couple of weeks.

Now, when I say swarm, I don't mean a couple of little buggies that float through every so often, I mean that Friday, I felt SIX before bedtime. One was hefty enough to scare the poor birdie off her cage (she will no longer come out of her cage unless I am in the room) and all my piles of papers onto the floor, no to mention my shoes off the shelf in the closet.

I live, perhaps, a mile or so from the epicenter of all these. 6pm friday? rumble. then, aftershocks. 11:40? a 4.9 which, I hear was downgraded, but thats rumor. But really, that's the one that freaked out the critter.11:50. a three point something. (and aftershocks too) One while I was in the shower (freaky!) 1 am I get woken up. rumble

I was too drunk to feel anything Saturday night but at 4 this morning, yup. Just now as i started this blog? yup. Just before I announced via twitter that I am blaming all my woes on earthquakes? yup.

You see, Saturday, I decided that the earthquakes are God trying to knock down my former employer. It's not like me to feel such a lingering dislike, but I figure that if someone builds a building so cheaply that it leans over, then it kind of deserves to fall over. As long as no one is hurt, of course. I don't want anyone to be hurt. So when it is miraculously empty, God will send an earthquake and it will fall over without hurting anybody. Logic. It works. Try it sometime.

But alas, despite the near constant rumble, my former place of working has not fallen over. AND despite the fact that my Seester SAID she would make them stop, they rumble on.

And so, I have a new theory. Earthquakes are to blame for my little troubles.

I am exceptionally fortunate that I only have little troubles. I'm not really complaining, just finding reason in my life. Earthquakes seem like a great reason.

The 900 bucks that still hasn't shown up in my bank account? earthquakes. Not sure if I will make rent? earthquakes. Insomnia? earthquakes. dismal financial outlook? earthquakes. Commitment issues? earthquakes. Knee still bothering me? earthquakes.

See how that works?

Fuckin earthquakes.

Where oh where has my monster gone?

It appears that I have been a little bit busy. Between Derby and the Cowboy and the house, I feel like I am never home. Which is okay because it's a little lonely here and I don't like to be here since I know I can't really afford it. That wouldn't bother me so much if I were using the whole house, but I still don't go into Poo's old room. And I have very little seating. I do watch the Simpsons and Family guy with reckless abandon though. When I remember that they are on. When I am at home.

Actually, tonight, I told the Cowboy that I was staying home to do this and this and...Even though I was really tempted to ask if he wanted company. But I don't want us to get sick of each other and I REALLY need to stay home more. Gas is killing me...

It was a big weekend

There has been quite a bit of derby drama going on lately. Stuff I have wanted to post about but I cannot seem to formulate without either seeming like I am talking shit or having it come out all weird. I tried to talk to Poo about it, but he doesn't understand Derby. And he doesn't understand how it is formed and the things that can go crazy when there are a bunch of women involved. Even fantastic ones like my fellow skaters. It's been one of those things where I have gotten really angry but rather than open my mouth (and key board) and responding, I have kept my mouth shut in order to keep from perpetuating the problem. And some of it has passed on, as drama always does, and I am glad that I didn't get all publicly annoyed. Our team doesn't need any more reason to argue. in other ways, I think there are things that I can have a better attitude about. Ways I think I forgot why this league was formed. This became painfully obvious today. And I feel like I have been wrong but I don't know how to fix it. So I kept my moth shut again. This time to keep from being a hippocrite. And in this instance, I see how I need to change my point of view and change my attitude. I have my dear Bratty Duke to thank for that one.

Speaking of Poo, he left yesterday. It has been tougher than I thought it would be. For all my complaints, for all my need to be on my own, it was hard to see him go. And the house is quite empty without him. And I don't mean the lack of furniture. I am thankful though, that I had prior plans yesterday so I didn't have to be here to see him off. Call me a coward, but it was hard enough knowing that Saturday was his last night here without dragging out a tearful goodbye. I'm not sure what time he left, but when I got home from the Cowboy's house last night, he was gone.

Cowboy brought home his horse yesterday. She's just darling. But mad enough at him that she ignored him calling her and let me pet her a bit longer.

THE CONTEST IS OVER!

AS of 3:00 pm on Saturday, my bed was clear of laundry. And of 5 pm, it was full of stuff again, but that had nothing to do with laundry and everything to do with how I needed to use my clothes basket which i use to store my (folded) sheets and towels. I still have not read your comments, but I will. And I will declare a weener and think of something interesting to send.

I obtained a BUNCH of fun kids tights for socktopuses on Saturday...

It feels like there should be more.

Oh yeah.

I volunteered at the Earth Day Fair yesterday. Now, don't get me wrong, I really believe in doing our part to better the planet. Leave a smaller foot print. This is our home and we need to take care of it. I was the president of my high school Earth Club, for goodness sake, and although I don't recycle like I should, I am trying to get back on track. (I really like www.idealbite.com they have suggestions on little things you can do) So Earth Day Fair.

Some of the people were total hippies. It's like they came out of the woodwork. But I feel like Environmentalism is now what investing in stocks was in the 80's. The new yuppie fad. The new way to be holier than thou. I was selling raffle tickets. The raffle tickets were to win the bike from the Fat Tire label. It's a sweet bike. I wanted it except that I didn't have any cash on me. (there was a $20 bill in my purse, but it managed to hide until this morning. better that way) I learned during the course of the day that the raffle money was going towards offsetting the carbon footprint from the event. Blink. Blink. Perhaps I don't fully understand this whole carbon footprint thing. It's the amount of carbon you produce, right? So, if we produce more by having events, how does money offset that? I mean, really it should all even out since the people who were there were using less energy by sharing the energy output than they would if they had been at home with the TV and heater on, right? Not to mention the ones who biked there instead of running errands in their car all day. This, I believe, is a true offset of carbon output.
We have the choice every day to lighten our load. I don't think trading carbon credits does this. I think it's just another commodity. I think that the big polluters are going to pollute and the little polluters aren't.
I think you aren't going to convince my grandparents that the earth wasn't made for them to use up. (yes, they do. maybe they have changed their mind, but we have argued this point. I don't bring it up anymore. They have always recycled their aluminum cans though) I think if it's too expensive, I won't be going solar on my house right away, although I would like to. I will make myself a worm farm though. And i will start recycling even though it will cost me money every month because it's worth it. But although I hope i am excited enough about these things to share them, I hope i don't become earthier than thou. because really? what kind of competition is that?

A Continuation

So, I moved into my new (shared) office today. Ben came into my boss's office and let me know that I had a message. From Jo. Without blinking, my boss said,

"Joe Momma"?

Sam was not amused. The best part is, I hadn't told the boss man the story. The second best part is that I laughed so hard I cried when I DID tell him.

I don't get it

Why is it that I can dig through the giant pile of clothes and not find any matching knee socks, but as soon as I find one pair, I find three more?

Another notable conversation

Sam: Hey, what's Joe's last name?

Me: Momma.

Sam: What is it?

Me: Momma.

Sam: Really?

The rest of us: HAHAHAHAHAH!

And that, my friends, was the best quote of the day. I'm still snickering.


In other conversations, in case you have not figured it out, I'm in escrow. It's a fixer. Pictures when it's mine.

So, I'm talking to my boss about how I don't really know where the washer and dryer go because the garage has been converted (HELLO CRAFT ROOM!!) and the only evidence I can find is a taped over hole in the wall in the kitchen about the size of a dryer vent. But no plumbing right there. I'm thinking though, that I can change the weird bathroom into a laundry room since I don't really NEED 2 bathrooms and, it's a weird bathroom. (you would really have to see it to understand why it's so strange)If I converted the bathroom, I would have plumbing, but no vent. Sigh.

So, the bossman says I could get a 110V dryer and plug it in anywhere.

"I have gas" says I.

He would have left it alone if I hadn't started giggling, but since I did, he's been telling everyone I have gas.

Little exclamation points came out of my head

By the way, I never thought it would be so hard not to look at my comments. And so far, there's only two responses to my contest. Must be patient.

and no, I have not even started on the pile (which it much bigger now that the laundry is done) It's a good thing I sleep alone.

So, I'm over at Killer Rants (see how I'm starting to get a little more web savy?) and I see something that surprises and delights me.

I'm linked. Which means I'm liked. Which made me pee like a puppy. Just a little.

A small contest

Because I think it's fun and funny and I promise to really pick a winner because I know the last time I joined in a contest, it never went anywhere from there and that girl, who's stuff I still covet, got some free advertising from me, which would have been just fine if she had actually ever picked a winner, which, as far as I know, she never did. (The contest is not, in fact to create longer run-on sentences than me)

I'm doing laundry. If you have been reading for more than a week, you know that I tend to leave my laundry and just sleep under it. Yes. I am that damn lazy.

SO. The contest is, guess how long it takes me to get it put away.

To be fair, I will likely be moving in mid to late May. More on that later. So, it will likely be put away before June. I don't know what I am giving away, but it will probably be something I make because I am a broke ass bitch. That is a federal designation. You can leave your guesses in comments, and I will not check them until every last bit of laundry is off my bed. it's possible that I might put things away slowly or add to the pile before EVERY LAST BIT OF LAUNDRY is off my bed. Bras on the doorknobs don't count.

This contest begins at 5:00 pm on Sunday April 14

ps, I finally did my taxes. today.

Why FreeCycle can b a bad thing

i signed up for Freecycle a couple of weeks ago because I think it's a wonderful program and I knew I would be having some things to give away. I found t he program very helpful when I was in San Diego and was able to give away no less than a dresser, plastic shelves, a digital camera, and my boogie board. Before i moved to Reno, I checked for a Freecycle group but there wasn't one. There is now.

I posted a couple of things.

The infamous sofas are up for grabs. I've gotten a couple of responses. In one, I was told that they are nice, but, "Not our style" not our style. for FREE couches. FREE couches. not their style. What are they looking for when the price is free? Do you know how many years I lived with free couches that weren't my style? Most of my adult life. I bought my first new couch that I picked out all by myself when I was 28. Maybe 27. but I'm pretty sure I was 28. The couches are still in the living room.

I also put up Poo's computer desk. I have the same one. It's a simple stand. I got a lot of interest in that one. One after the other people contacted me. They wanted it for their kid in college. One by one I got the same answer. "Oh. we were looking for something bigger" Once again, what are you looking for when the price is free? How much computer stuff do you have? How much room do you think is in a dorm? Several people were VERY interested. one took so long to my request that she come over after 4 that I chose another. He never showed. I'm glad I didn't cancel my hot date to wait for him to show. I didn't even bother trying again. The desk is still in the living room.

Yesterday, someone was offering a bag of green army men. GREEN ARMY MEN!! I WANT THOSE!! my fingers twitched. I clenched my jaw. I deleted the post. whew. Someone else posted some jars. twitch. clench. delete. The board is a wonderland of random crap. I want it. But my storage, and now my room, is also a wonderland of random crap. and so I resist. And wonder if Freecycle isn't another way of just passing crap from one home to another. I suppose i will try and post other stuff eventually. If all goes well, I'll be moving mid next month and I am not sure I want to put all these little trinkets into containers and find a new home for them.

Another Derby HNT

The other day, I met a fella who said he had a hard time imagining me as a Reno Roller Girl. Because, you know, it's possible to know me after just a couple of hours.

Perception is everything and I like to think I have more than one facet. It's picture time tonight. I have to admit though. I can make myself up to look as tough as I want, but I'll probably fall on my ass in front of the camera.

Text-ing Cowboy

C-I said Whip it! Whip it good! *does the divo dance*
G- Gee, I didn't know you were into that sort of thing.


G- push it real good!
C- -shakes ass-

We amuse each other.

So, I know this girl

And this girl has an alter ego we like to call Fartina. Fartina was all alone in the office today and feeling secure.

And then her boss came in. and he sniffed the air and asked what that smell was. And Fartina didn't know because she couldn't smell anything, but she suspected, and she played ignorant because that's what ladies do.

And her boss said it smelled really sweet. You know, like in a good way. And Fartina giggled in her head and refrained from saying, "that's because I just farted" even though her boss would have thought that was especially funny.

Round and Round

So, it's official, Poo is giving notice tomorrow. I lit a fire under my Real Estate agent's butt because I don't want to have to move twice and I don't want to have to pay rent for more than a month or two. Moving means that I would either have to move twice, or that I would have to sign at least a 6 month lease somewhere. I don't want to be paying rent when I should be paying mortgage. If I am going to be broke, I want it to be mine. If it will only be a couple of months, I will stay here and pay the rent which is a little over half my salary. And I don't want to ooze into the rest of the apartment so I will only be occupying

I am tired of being in limbo. I have lived in limbo for so long that I have forgotten what it is like to really call somewhere home. Not that I didn't like my lakeside apartment, but what I REALLY wanted was to be in a house. And I was never sure how long I was going to continue to be able to afford to live there.

Meanwhile, there has been some derby drama. I am not going to get into it here because I don't do that. But I will say that I just don't understand why people feel the need to create trouble and to sabotage what has been built by others. In one case, I only know one side of the story. And I still don't understand why the other side is acting the way they do. The other thing makes me sad. Sad because I had a hand in it. In that case, I did my best to do the right thing. In that case I know both sides and I still feel caught in the middle.

I can say with the utmost confidence that I need to remember not to let Derby take over my life. I can see where it is heading in that direction as I sign up for more committees and more practices are added to my schedule. I want to be a good skater. I want to build up this league into all that we all imagine it can be. But I need to remember to be Ginamonster too.

The madness continues! But I am really looking forward to looking at some houses. I have several picked out, and only one looks like a shithole. But I thought I would look closely at it before I declared it such.

Crap. I didn't think of that

I got a notice in the mail today from the CA DMV. Apparently, my registration has been suspended.

Here's the thing. I have been putting off switching over to NV plates because I had JUST registered my car when I moved. Then I was going to get it taken care of and I got fired. I am still waiting for my first paycheck. I will have to get the car smogged and registered. These things cost money.

I no longer have the kind of job where I can leave a little early to take care of business.

Crap.

Regardless, it will get cleared up this week. Sigh.

WTF?

So, I get home from Cowboy's house to find a note that says that Poo has flown south for the weekend. All the lights and TV are on and his truck is still in it's spot.

I think, he must have taken a cab or rode down with Boy Roomie (who moved back today without saying goodbye) I think, he must have left everything on for Baby. He doesn't like leaving her alone in the dark.

So I figure, SWEET! I got the house to myself. I saunter into the bathroom nakid. I'm singin in the shower. I'm chattin to myself.

I get out of the shower and someone knocks on the door.

I grabbed my towel and walk into the kitchen. Apparently Poo is still home (leaving in the morning) and I am very weird. And he doesn't want to talk about it (what WAS I saying to myself in that bathroom for goodness sake?) And go to bed because I'm driving him nuts.

I don't know what I did.

I really need my own place.

Things to do in Reno

After Shower conversations and Happy HNT

I mentioned in that chat area of the show tonight that I had particularly fine cleavage today. So I took a picture. But no one said, "oh yeah? let's see!" so since it is particularly marvelous, happy HNT.

In the meantime, I had the following conversation with Poo.

Me: Goodnight Poo!

Poo: GASP! goodnight.

Me: Did I scare you again? (I startle Poo every time I walk into the room. I am not exactly quiet)

Poo: yeah

Me: you spend too much time alone.

BTW, during the radio show, there was an "earthquake" in my apartment. I am pretty sure (now) that it was the washing machine's spin cycle shaking my room and not an actual earthquake. You know. in hindsight and AFTER I made a spectacle of myself.

And yes. I am. Goodnight!

eew

ok, someone found me by searching earwax lip balm and up, eew. I am NOT kissing you!

What a wonderful time!

I had a wonderful time on the Jestertunes Radio show! I will post the podcast tomorrow. We talked about Pudding wrestling, the Socktopus, and Roller Derby!

as well as our experiences with internet dating.

psst...

Guess who's going to be a guest on the Jestertunes Radio Show on BlogTalkRadio tomorrow night at 7 pm PST????

My first day

Today was the first day of my new job. I made an impression of the usual sort.

It all started, I think, when I went to bed last night. I didn't sleep. I tried to sleep. I just didn't. So when my alarm went off this morning, I didn't fight getting up. (I HATE getting up in the morning.)

It bears mentioning that I was dog sitting all weekend so I didn't have a whole lot of options when it comes to the next phase of my story.

I slid into my new clothes. Pants first, as usual. They were SEVERAL sizes too large. Several. This is what happens when you try on one pair at the store and then buy several others in the same size without trying them on. I didn't have a belt. I didn't have a safety pin. I tried to borrow one but there weren't any. I didn't have any other pants other than the jeans I wore the day before. I was told that I would be best in Business Casual. My polo shirt was the only thing holding my pants up when I arrived at work.

On the way, I debated stopping for a belt. Pins. Anything. But I didn't want to risk being late on my first day. I was 15 minutes early.

I arrived to find everyone in jeans. I asked my boss if I could change into my other pants. He looked a bit confused, (who wears ill fitting pants?) but was okay with it. I explained that I didn't leave from my house that morning-because I was dog sitting ("oh. dog sitting" says he)

Once I was in my well fitting jeans I was much happier. I only have to pull them up sometimes. I've lost 8 pounds since I moved here. Three since I was fired. I love what not eating casino food and skating is doing for me.

The rest of my day went really well. People are very nice. I fear that working there will be bad for my pet habit, especially when they have adoption day, but I remind myself that I am more likely to consider the long term cost of pet ownership, or, as the company says, pet parenting.

4:30 rolled around and I packed up to go. But where are my keys? I left them in the bathroom when I changed my pants. They were not in the bathroom anymore. I was not as embarrassed as I thought I would be when they announced the following on the PA:

"Anyone who has seen a set of keys with a pig on them please call extension #XXXX. That's a set of keys with a pink pig on them"


I continued to look for them. Loudly. I'm not very good at subtle. One of the office type men folk overheard and indicated that he had my keys but that I would need to describe them.

"They have a pink pig on them that goes *snort snort snort snort*" (yes. I made snorting noises at my new coworkers.)

One looked at me funny. "How does that go?"

*snort snort snort snort*

I got my keys back. Tomorrow should be interesting.

Times are a changin

Spoke with Poo about the future just now, and it looks like he'll be giving notice when he pays rent. Which means I am on the hunt for temporary place. I'm going to check first with my current complex, I guess they have some studio apartments that they rent out. That way I would be able to keep my garage storage. As soon as I settle into the job, I'll figure the finances and get into a house, so this will only be a temporary solution.

It's a little bit exciting, a little bit scary. I know it's gonna be a lotta bit just fine.

Stuff to do in Reno

authinticating...

Undergoing MyBlogLog Verification

A good point, really

So, I discovered today that I've been blogging for 3 years and have had over 20,000 hits. Suddenly, I feel like I have hit some sort of milestone.

In other News, Cowboy pointed something out that I really can't deny.

That if I am to work in Patrick, I probably should let the house in Cold Springs go. It would be about 60 miles one way to work. Sure, freeway all the way. But really? Gas is at 4 bucks a gallon.

4 bucks a gallon.

My income at the new job will be considerably lower than I am used to. I haven't made this little in what? 6 years? Not that my new salary is anything to sneeze at, it's just lower, that's all.

So, I may have to swallow my pride and think about moving to Fernley. Yeah, that's where the levee recently broke and flooded the town. shit. Never mind, I don't care if the houses are 50 thousand dollars less. I don't want to live in Ferntuckey. That would put me 45 minutes from anything interesting. 45 minutes is a long time.

But I do think he's right. It's one thing to love a house and another to be silly about it.

In other news, there was a big 'ole blow out this evening going on when I returned in which Poo took back the truck, cancelled the phone, and Clint went tumbling down the stairs. No, he wasn't pushed. I told Poo that I'm glad he finally had enough.

Happy HNT!

I forgot to mention the part last night where the janitor said he would be my stalker if he were not married. That creeped me out more than a bit.

The thing of it is...

That every so often I start attracting men. I am, like the rest of my family, a dork magnet. (That announcement made Cowboy say, "Hey!" I wouldn't call him a dork really, but there has to be an element of such or I likely wouldn't be interested. He, on the other hand, attracts Single Moms. I am an exception of course)

The dorks I speak of are like the infamous janitor at the rink who told me once that if he weren't married, he'd be chasing after me. Then he said that if he had all his teeth, you'd never know he is over 50. Today he was openly talking about my butt (My own fault, really, for telling him that I would not like a root beer because it makes my butt big) But oh man, if he weren't married, and oh, don't worry, flirting with me just keeps him from cheating on his wife. Blink, Blink. I'm not sure what gives him the idea that I would date him other than the fact that I answer back when he speaks to me.

Or the fellas on myspace without their shirts on. Who think I should date them. It's true that I met Cowboy online. And that seems to be working pretty well. But I also met Biker Bob online. and that wasn't so good. For either of us.

Or the man who was lurking outside the fabric store today. He told me jokes until I reached the craft store next door. Then he wandered off. This wasn't a pick up, I just attract the crazies.

A rare mention

Every so often, while reading Perez Hilton, I come across something that makes me sad.

Perez reports today that Dame Maggie Smith is being treated for breast cancer.

She's no spring chicken.

Cancer takes a lot out of you.

I can only hope that she pulls through because I enjoy her movies so. And NOT just the Harry Potter series. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Hook. Becoming Jane.

She was in Clash of the Titans for goodness sake.

Dame Maggie, I'm rootin for ya.

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