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.