30 December 2008

What happened to me?

I've barely written anything over the last few months. I used to blog several times a week and now, I struggle to post one or two entries during the course of a month. When I finally post something, anything, my writing is peppered with curse words and has an overall negative quality. I don't feel like myself.

Even my handwriting sucks.

Sure I've had my good days, but wowza, I am in a funk. I'm unmotivated and feeling worthless, which unfortuantely, is rather difficult to camoflauge. I don't have a worthwhile excuse to rationalize my crabbiness; in fact, I have an endless list of reasons to be happy. But I'm not.

What's the deal, yo?

Here's the part where I ask for advice: when feeling down, what do you do to pull yourself back up?

Listening to: Tim Fite - Over the Counter Culture

17 December 2008

Bah Humbug and Stuff

It's been quite a while since I've written anything; I've been up to a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing.

My family cancelled Christmas, which is totally awesome. Nobody in the family is in the mood for it -- so we've decided to skip it this year. Hot damn. The ironic thing is, this event put me into a cookie-making mood.

This really has nothing to do with anything, but yesterday I asked a girl what she did to get her arms so toned and she replied, "Nothing now. I used to dance on the pole."

Listening to: Boys talk about car stuff

23 November 2008

RanDUMB survey for the hell of it

Surveys... the lazy-woman's blog.

Is your secon​d toe longe​r than your first​?​ No, but I can pinch with my toes. Watch out!

Do you have a favor​ite type of pen? Gel pens for writing; Ball point for doodling and drawing.

Look at your plann​er for March​ 14, what are you doing​?​ I don't have a planner and I don't have a plan. But my Aunt's birthday is then, so I'll probably get in touch with her that day.

What color​ are your toena​ils usual​ly?​ Toena​il color​; right now I am sporting leftover-red from Halloween

What was the last thing​ you highl​ighte​d?​ My hair - Hot Hot Pink

What color​ are your bedro​om curta​ins?​ I actually don't have a bedroom at this time.

What color​ are the seats​ in your car? Grey or Gray. I can never remember how to spell it.

Have you ever had a black​ and white​ cat? Nope; well, Goliath was mostly black and white, but also other colors

What is the last thing​ you put a stamp​ on? an envel​ope.​.​.​ where​ else do stamp​s go?

Do you know anyon​e who lives​ in Wyomi​ng?​ I wish I lived in Wyoming. It is bee-you-tee-full

Why did you withd​raw cash from the ATM the last time?​ Becau​se I wante​d money​,​ fucki​ng duh.

Who is the last baby that you held?​ My aunt's boyfriend's daughter's baby, Lilly.

Do you know of any twins​ with rhymi​ng names​?​ unfortunately, no

Do you like Cinna​mon tooth​paste​?​ only if I'm not going to use mouthwash afterward

What kind of car were you drivi​ng 2 years​ ago? the same car I have now - '04 mustang

Pick one: Miami​ Hurri​canes​ or Flori​da Gator​s.​ fuck 'em both

Last time you went to Six Flags​?​ the last day they were open for this season (thank you, Terra)

Do you have any wallp​aper in your house​?​ I don't have a place of my own

Close​st thing​ to you that is yello​w:​ dying flowers

Last perso​n to give you a busin​ess card?the dude at the stereo place

Who is the last perso​n you wrote​ a check​ to? fuck if I know

Close​st frame​d pictu​re to you? a black/white old school photo of a random crowd

Last time you had someo​ne cook for you? Last night, actually. Granted, he was cooking for four others and I got a last minute invite, but still, I wasn't the cook

Have you ever appli​ed for welfa​re?​ No

How many email​s do you have?​ read or unread?

Last time you recei​ved flowe​rs/​flowe​r?​ virtual flowers or real ones?

Do you think​ the sanct​ity of marri​age is meant​ for only a man & woman​?​ no, it's for two peopl​e that love each other​!!!

What are you liste​ning to right​ now? bar music

Do you play air guita​r?​ no, but I play Guita​r Hero when it is available

Do you have any Willo​w Tree figur​ines?​ what. the. fuck. is a willo​w tree figur​e?​

What is your high schoo​l'​s rival​ masco​t?​ fuck if I know; that was forever-ago

Who is the last perso​n you talke​d to from high schoo​l?​ Jill ​

Last time you used hand sanit​izer?​ I wash my hands​ in lieu of hand sanitazation

Would​ you like to learn​ to play the drums​?​ no, yes, maybe; I'd rather play guitar

What color​ are the blind​s in your livin​g room?​ I don't have a living room of my own

What is in your inbox​ at work?​ n/a

Last thing​ you read in the newsp​aper?​ I haven't looked at a newspaper lately

What was the last pagea​nt you atten​ded?​ Come to think of it - it was some sort of Drag Queen Pageant near Tacoma, WA a few years ago.

What is the last place​ you bough​t pizza​ from?​ The grocery store

Have you ever worn a crown​?​ Kind of, it was more like a clip though

What is the last thing​ you stapl​ed?​ papers together

Did you ever drink​ clear​ Pepsi​?​ hell no; fuck all that noise

Are you tickl​ish?​ I can be. I can also be punch-you-in-the-face-ish if you try to tickle me, Elmo.

Last time you saw firew​orks?​ 4 July 08

Last time you had a Krisp​y Kreme​ dough​nut?​ dunno​,​ Krispy Kreme sucks donkey balls

Who is the last perso​n that left you a messa​ge on your cell?​ my bro

Last time you parke​d under​ a carpo​rt?​ I parked my mom's car under a carport a few weeks ago, does that count?

Do you have a black​ dog? no - she's blonde

Do you have any pickl​es in your fridg​e?​ No fridge

How long have they been there​?​? n/a - does that question necessitate two question marks?

Who has the prett​iest eyes that you know of? I never notice eyes, but Geoff's answer is BAD ASS: Jnet has aweso​me eyes (thanks Geoff!)

Last time you saw a semi truck​?​ today​

Do you remem​ber Ugly Kid Joe? Unfortunately, yes

Do you have a littl​e black​ dress​?​ I have two; both are cocktail dresses and sparkley - but different shapes and different looks

Listening to: I wish I knew, but I have no idea - random bar music

09 November 2008

I am horrible at playing tag

Usually when I'm tagged for a meme, I never get around to responding. I enjoy being tagged, but for some reason I rarely answer the tag. Neglect? Laziness? Lack of words? I'm a total bitch and deny invitations? It's one of those unanswered questions in life.

Rebecca tagged me because Courtney tagged her. I believe once Courtney tagged me and I never responded, as did Baol.

Fuck the rules. I'm gonna write seven randumb things about myself and if I break the rules, I guess Rebecca can give me a swirly or shove me in a locker.

Sieben Randumb facts about me:

Eine: I'm bloated. Yes, I am 5' 7" and weigh roughly 115 pounds and it's somehow still possible to be bloated. WTF?

Zwei: I didn't poop today. Probably because I pooped a lot yesterday.

Drei: I love fart jokes. But I don't like actual farting. Farts are funnier in theory than reality.

Vier: Once I dressed up in chicken feathers, climbed to the top of my roof and sang God Save The Queen in French. That's what the cops tell me, anyway; I have no recollection of this incident.

Fünf: I hate green beans. HATE them. I wish they would become extinct, somehow.

Sechs: If I had to live on an island where I could grow only ONE food, it would be avocado.

Sieben: My brother would do anything for me, as I'd do anything for him. He's hilarious and one of the most creative and mechanically gifted people I've known. I feel incredibly lucky to have him in my life.

Listening to: White Stripes - Hotel Yorba

05 November 2008

Told Ya So

My day started out normal, but sometime around 4:30 my parents' dogs, Charley and Otis, got into a really bad fight and I was the only one home. It took a good 5-7 minutes to break it up and I got bit by them quite a few times.

They've fought before, but not like this. I have no idea what started their fight. They must have found a bone, or something, and maybe fought over that? Luckily I was here to break it up because I'm quite certain that Charley wanted to kill Otis.

It was CRAZY.

I could NOT get Charley off of Otis. I tried yelling and I kept pulling Charley off and then before Otis could get up, Charley would start attacking him (and/or me) again and again. Charley was biting his face, ears, eyes, nose, neck....

I was yelling like a maniac. I couldn't find a hose to squirt them, but I doubt that would've helped. During my panic, I grabbed one of those BBQ scraper things and was smacking Charley's butt with that, but Dr. Flaum said that likely just egged him on.

I just kept pulling Charley off and kind of moving them closer toward the garage. Eventually I got Charley held back long enough for Otis to get inside and he ran to the other side of the car. I grabbed Charley and carried him out (I have no idea how I could even pick him up) then closed the door so he couldn't go in after Otis.

It was fucking insane.

I'm going to be sore tomorrow.

They both had to go to the vet and Otis had to spend the night. It looks like the both of them only have puncture wounds, not lacerations. But one of Charley's bite marks is near his "wrist" and an infection in a joint is bad news, so we have to keep an eye on it.

Two dogs fighting, each weighing around 75 pounds, plus one me (trying to break it up), and weighing around 115 pounds, equals me getting my ass kicked.

One of my fingers got bit really good, there's a small chunk of flesh hanging out from it. Thankfully it's flesh and not a tendon. A couple other fingers were bitten and are already swollen and bruised. My right arm hurts and Charley bit me HARD on the back of my left thigh; luckily I was wearing blue jeans or I'd be missing flesh and muscle.

My pants were covered in their blood so they're now in the wash.

Day 147: My pants got bloody from breaking up a dog fight

See, I told ya: every. day. something. fucked. up. happens. to. me.

Watching: Super Troopers

04 November 2008

I'm totally bitching venting

For the last few weeks I've wanted to write a positive post that focuses on the many great and happy things that have happened since my life got turned upside-down in early September - and then a second time about two weeks ago. I won't go into the details, but believe me, these last two months have been hell.

I've been hesitant to write a happy post because it will give James the wrong impression; he thinks I'm out having a blast and living the good life since I've abandoned and betrayed him, leaving him to suffer in disbelief. That's a total mind-fuck for me, because he takes no responsibility for his actions and the way he treated me behind closed doors. I won't list any specifics because as it stands, he'll be pissed about these first two paragraphs.

My point is: every. fucking. day. something. fucked. up. happens. to. me.

Sunday I spent most of the day with my ex-husband, Travis, and his girlfriend, Shandee. (I know that's kind of weird, but Trav and I have always been great friends and his girlfriend is awesome, too.) Sometime after dark I went outside with Trav's old roommate, Dave. We were chilling in some lawn chairs, looking at the stars and talking for more than an hour when one of Trav's cats, Bella, came walking past. So I picked her up for a cuddle.

Suddenly my pants were SOAKED. I thought she peed, but Dave was like, "Dude, there's cat cum all over you!!!" Dave was right; it wasn't pee. Bella did "it" with Big Black -- a stray cat with gigantic balls. Thankfully Bella is spayed, but she still likes a good effing from time to time.

Big Black came ALL OVER her. So when I picked up Bella and put her in my lap, the cum on her back, belly and head got rubbed all over my pants and jacket. Dave went inside and found me a different pair of pants and I put my cat-cum-soaked jacket in the trunk of my car.

On Monday, when I took Trav's pants back to him he exclaimed, "I can't believe you wore those nasty fuckers! I worked in those and they were COVERED in ball sweat!!!" I was like, "Great. I slept in your ball-sweat pants and a t-shirt with cat-cum on it."

Nice. Aren't I sexy???

Before I returned Trav's pants I went to Arby's. While going through the drive through, I majorly curb-checked. By the time I got home I forgot about it.

This has been my Tuesday.,..

The first thing I did this morning was walk out to check on my car and not only did I scratch my wheels all to hell, there's a chunk of rubber missing from the side of my tire. These WERE brand new tires. (My brother just informed me that my tire is a safety hazard and we'll have to get me a new one THIS WEEK.)

After discovering my tire was messed up, I thought it would be a happy-fun-time to wrestle with the three dogs. In the process I got majorly head-butted, glasses bent to hell, and I have a bruise and scratches next to my eye. I went to a professional and had my glasses bent back, but when I fold them up they're way screwey.... but they're even on my face. So whatever.

Of course, they are my favorite pair of glasses.

On my way to the glasses place, I was driving down the highway with my windows open, and one of my vent-things (for a/c and heat) just flew out the window. So instead of a vent, I now have a hole.

THEN, I was switching CDs in my car and my CD player jammed up. No CDs will eject, the thing is just open and I can see them jammed in there. I GO INSANE WITHOUT MUSIC. So now, I will be driving around with my laptop, using my headphones.

Life is peachy.

I promise my next post will be more positive and I will discuss some of the fun things my family has done for me -- they're working very hard to cheer me up. I've had a lot of support from family and friends and without all of them, I would likely be staying at the mental institution on Arsenal.

Listening to: Tub Ring -- Get Help (NOW!)

14 October 2008

Skanks Stink

Poem seen in my counselor's office:

Pop cans are orange markers are, too.
The sky is blue my shirt is, too.
Stems of flowers are green and boys are really mean.
I love pink and skanks stink.

Skanks Stink

I couldn't agree more, sister.

(After I couldn't stop laughing, I was informed that the word is supposed to be skunk, not skank.)

Listening to: Modest Mouse - Satin in a coffin

21 September 2008

This is why boys think girls are stupid

Despite having a small number of followers on my Twitter account, I received a surprising amount of feedback over the last couple of days regarding a back-and-forth Twitter conversation between Dana and myself. People were having trouble fully piecing together the conversation because of the way Twitter is laid out, so they contacted me about it.

Another reason it's hard for anyone who cares to understand the conversation is because Dana has since deleted all but one of her tweets that were part of our conversation, you know, the ones that begin with "@JSpaghetti".

This is the only tweet that she did not trash: @JSpaghetti WTF? I've never been rude to you. What's with your drama? I've been nothing but nice to you until all of this right now.

Sooo if someone NOW sees this tweet from Dana, and NOW tries to piece together the conversation, and tries to figure out WTF this JSpaghetti chic did that was so rude to Dana, the ten or so related tweets NOW read (in reverse chronological order, which is how Twitter is laid out):

ME: @Mamalogues One thing I've learned: no matter how cool you think you are to people, their perception of you - that's reality.

ME: @Mamalogues No drama on my end, being honest. And if someone says you were rude to them and you deny it, that doesn't mean you weren't rude.

ME: @Mamalogues And by the way, I didn't suddenly unfollow you. I haven't followed you since the blogger gathering when you were rude to me.

ME: @Mamalogues I'm rude; big deal. I thought "many don't understand economics 101 or can even define the job of the fed" was a lame response.

ME: @Mamalogues A little of both.

ME: @Mamalogues I didn't want to debate, but if you're so strapped on time, why are you still tweeting about oxymorons? THAT'S an oxymoron.

ME: ...@Mamalogues... I think you had a mix-up on one of your last tweets. It should read: It should be mandatory for the GOVERNMENT to understand the economy and THEIR ROLE. The misconceptions and lack of info are ridiculous.

ME: ...The lender wants their money. They convince the person, who really shouldn't buy a house, feel like they can. That's predatory lending.

ME: ...take out the loan, seek one anyway. These people cannot comprehend and understand the convoluted and complicated contract language...

ME: @Mamalogues True, nobody MADE those people take out loans. What happens is, people who aren't exactly in a financial position to...

Um, okay?

Since Dana deleted all of her other tweets from her side of our conversation, the conversation doesn't even make sense. If any person has the attention span to get through those last five or six of my tweets, they'll see me write "I'm rude; big deal" and then decide that - "Yep, Dana was right. This JSpaghetti chic IS rude." Or they might see that most of my tweets are directed @Mamalogues, while she only wrote one @JSpaghetti.

Newsflash: I'm not an idiot. Dana purposely deleted comments to make me look like I couldn't let something go and that I just kept badgering her.

I don't even know what to think of that, but I know the difference between right and wrong - and that's just wrong; deleting most of a conversation except the one statement that says @JSpaghetti WTF? I've never been rude to you. What's with your drama? I've been nothing but nice to you until all of this right now.

That's wrong. wRonG. WRONG.

I know everyone is entitled to their own deleting policy, but I naively assumed most people delete tweets because of misspelled words, or because of that double-publish thing that twitter sometimes does, or perhaps drunk twittering, etc. But, deleting most of a conversation with exception to the one where you deny being rude, say I'm giving you drama, and say you've been nothing but nice?

Maybe you don't understand; Dana, "being nice" encompasses much more than smiles, blasé conversation and handshakes. Rudeness comes from tone of voice, facial expressions, body language, and so much more. Perception is reality. And based on the comments I received about the Twitter conversation, it seemed like everyone thought you were rude and dramatic, not me.

Luckily, I did have so many questions and comments about Dana's and my conversation right from the beginning, I had copied and pasted them ALL. But the questions kept coming and then kinda got weird, so I just went back to twitter to see what was up. And that's when I saw that there was now only one @JSpaghetti reference.

So below is the original conversation, in whole. For the record, I really only got involved because I was trying to support @Jaelithe, and the next thing you know - this happens.

And it's fucking stupid.

F-U-C-K-I-N-G stupid.


DANA: @jaelithe Nobody made those people take loans though. People lived beyond their means and that isn't the country's fault.

ME: @Mamalogues True, nobody MADE those people take out loans. What happens is, people who aren't exactly in a financial position to...

ME: ...take out the loan, seek one anyway. These people cannot comprehend and understand the convoluted and complicated contract language...

ME: ...The lender wants their money. They convince the person, who really shouldn't buy a house, feel like they can. That's predatory lending.

DANA: It should be mandatory for people to understand the economy and the role of the Fed. The misconceptions and lack of info are ridiculous

ME: ...@Mamalogues... I think you had a mix-up on one of your last tweets. It should read: It should be mandatory for the GOVERNMENT to understand the economy and THEIR ROLE. The misconceptions and lack of info are ridiculous.

DANA: @JSpaghetti that as well but so many don't understand economics 101 or can even define the job of the fed. no time to debate today though.

DANA: it's funny, people want assloads of cash for entitlement programs but when fannie, et al go QUASI national people freak out. oxymoron.

ME: @Mamalogues I didn't want to debate, but if you're so strapped on time, why are you still tweeting about oxymorons? THAT'S an oxymoron.

DANA: @JSpaghetti are you trying to have a discussion or be rude?

ME: @Mamalogues A little of both.

ME: @Mamalogues I'm rude; big deal. I thought "many don't understand economics 101 or can even define the job of the fed" was a lame response.

DANA: and hells bells, if i don't share your every waking opinion, unfollow! people grow the hell up.

ME: @Mamalogues And by the way, I didn't suddenly unfollow you. I haven't followed you since the blogger gathering when you were rude to me.

DANA: @JSpaghetti WTF? I've never been rude to you. What's with your drama? I've been nothing but nice to you until all of this right now.

ME: @Mamalogues No drama on my end, being honest. And if someone says you were rude to them and you deny it, that doesn't mean you weren't rude.

DANA: Done with people's drama. This is ridiculous. Moving on.

DANA: One thing I've learned is that no matter how cool you are to people, some will just dislike you anyway. I give up.

ME: @Mamalogues One thing I've learned: no matter how cool you think you are to people, their perception of you - that's reality.


And that is why boys think girls are stupid.

I would never have posted about this trivial bullshit. But now I have to, so I can give my side of the story...because Dana decided to delete her part of the conversation.

So that was the conversation, and now you can make up your own mind. Whether the comments are good, bad, or ugly, I am not publishing any of them. The whole thing is stupid.

Oh, and by the way, I can't even believe you made it to the end of the post.

Listening to: Primus - Wynona's Big Brown Beaver

17 September 2008

The fart heard next door

James' uncle is staying with us for a few days before those two head off to Chicago. We've never had company before because, well, we just moved in.

Sometime before seven this morning, I heard a distant fart.

I said to James, "Was that Mike?"

James said nothing because he was thinking, "Obviously."

Mike answered my question, "Yes."


I don't even know how to respond to this situation, especially since I was giggling.

Mike says, "Good Morning."

Listening to: the dishwasher

12 September 2008

I don't even know what the hell to title this one, but at least it ends on a positive note

Compared to my friends - my parents were strict. In third grade I wasn't allowed to wear makeup. In sixth grade I wasn't allowed to go on "dates" and paint my nails fire engine red. In ninth grade I wasn't allowed to "ride around" with friends who'd barely had any driving experience. Just because everyone else's parents were letting them do those things, that didn't mean it was a good idea for me to do them, too.

I wasn't allowed to wear makeup until I was 13. I wasn't allowed to "date" until after I was 16. That's because I wasn't allowed to ride in a car with my teenage friends until I turned 16. In fact, I turned 16 on a Tuesday. The weekend before, my boyfriend mustered up the courage to ask my dad if he could pick me up for school on Monday morning (I was still riding the bus back and forth - which was TOTALLY embarrassing!). My dad calmly and sternly responded, "Nope. Jeannette turns 16 on Tuesday. You can pick her up for school then."

Heck, I never even had a standardized curfew. The time I was to be home was determined on a case-by-case basis. As my dad put it, "When I say nine o'clock, I mean fifteen minutes before nine, not five minutes after - got it." Yes, I got it. I don't think I came home late - ever. Keep in mind that between me and my friends were train tracks, coal train tracks. Coal trains are the longest, slowest and worst type of train to possibly get stopped by. Especially when getting caught by a train was not an acceptable reason to be home late because, "you know you have to cross the tracks, so you need to plan for that to ensure you'll be home on time even if you get stopped by a train."

I hated it then, but I get it now.

I developed early, matured fast, always looked older than my actual age - and as we all felt during those years - I knew I was a mature adult who was smart enough to figure everything out on my own. My parents knew better; I might've been mature, but I had a lot to learn before I could be considered an actual adult. Hell, I'm an adult now and I still have a lot to learn.

One thing that my mom kept me sheltered from was scary movies. When everybody else got to see Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the Jason and Freddy movies, Halloween, the Exorcist, etc - I never saw any of it. In fact, all of those movies I still probably wouldn't have seen if it weren't for James. I was never even curious about them. 

Back in the day, my mom's logic was that I would see real violence on the news and be exposed to real violence in real life. If I watched said violence, I'd be aware of it for the rest of my life. She wanted me to enjoy my innocence for as long as possible, before I discovered that life is scary and hard. I always understood this - even as a kid. I don't remember feeling left out because all of my friends were watching scary movies. I kinda thought - scary movie? - I don't like being scared. Plus, I don't really watch a lot of movies and we don't even have cable. I'll go play in the yard.

On the other hand, they always let me listen to music via KSHE 95. I can remember in grade school, hanging out in my room doing whatever (not playing with dolls - fuck that shit) listening to my pink radio tuned to K-SHE, falling asleep to the Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Eric Clapton, the Rolling stones, Pink Floyd, etc. I didn't understand what exactly they were singing about, but the music induced such a variety of positive emotions and I loved it. Meanwhile, I was listening to all kinds of songs about drugs and my parents never sheltered me from that. When I asked questions, they gave honest answers. But they let me listen to whatever music made me feel good.

Once when I was a teenager, I was listening to Megadeth very loudly in my room. My dad came beating on the door and upon answering, he screamed, "HEY - Turn that shit up!"


Those are some of the reasons why I love music so much today. Honestly, I might go insane without it. When I lived on my own I didn't have a TV because I always listened to music; I will never miss movies and TV, but I might actually die without music. Even now, while I'm home by myself all day, I turn music on the instant James leaves for work and I listen to it until he comes home. When I go back to working on my homework after dinner, I listen to music. If I'm not technically listening to music, there's always some song playing in my head. Music is my life.

On Thursday morning I was feeling tense, nervous, scared, anxious and a variety of other overwhelming emotions because I was on my way to see the neurologist.  So I decided to pop in a relaxing CD: Jonathan Edwards. I played Shanty over and over again. It certainly was relaxing. I might as well have been listening to one of those obnoxious meditation CDs that always make me start giggling - except this actually worked and was very relaxing. I laid on the floor, closed my eyes and just listened.

I felt much better.

Then I had a variety of trivial issues en route to my doctor, which left me feeling highly frazzled by the time I arrived at the office fifteen minutes late - or maybe I'm just getting to that age where I speak my mind because, when I filled out the all-important paperwork for my neurological exam and was asked of the type and frequency of my drug use, I wrote, "Marijuana; not often enough."

Maybe it's the stress.

Listening to: Jonathan Edwards - Shanty


Gonna sit down in the kitchen
And fix me something good to eat
And make my head a little high
And make this whole day complete
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on

Well pass it to me baby
Pass it to me slow
We'll take time out to smile a little
Before we let it go
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on

Well there ain't nothin' to do
And there's always room for more
Fill it, light it, shut up
And close the door
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on

We gonna sit around the kitchen
Fix us somethin' good to eat
And make ourselves a little high
And make the whole day complete
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on

05 September 2008

Frustrated Friday

Day 086: Go away! No photos today, please, k, thanks.

Stress and Life's Troubles, you may Go Away! Now!

Listening to: NIL8 - Push It Down (You Mystery Date Dare Devil)

03 September 2008

My favorite hiking shoes

I LOVE Keen; I wish every pair of my shoes were Keens!! Some chics are into fashion, I'm into function. (Keen shoes are quite stylish, they just aren't available in a stiletto.)

When James and I went to South Dakota in June for our two-week camping trip interspersed with lots of hiking, instead of packing my Columbia hiking boots, I mistakenly packed something entirely different and inappropriate for miles and miles of said hiking. Upon realizing my goof, we immediately drove into Rapid City to Scheels to find the appropriate hiking footwear. After jogging around the store in a variety of shoes (how else am I supposed to try them out?) I settled on the Keen Voyageur you see here.

Day 083: Keen Voyageur Hiking Shoes

I broke them in by hiking Sunday Gulch in Custer State Park. If you've hiked in a brand new pair of shoes before, you know it can have painful results. Thankfully, my Keen shoes were so comfortable that I didn't even notice they were brand new! In the next few days we hiked to the top of Little Devil's Tower, Harney Peak, the Cathedral Spires and then a variety of small hikes throughout the Black Hills. My feet were perfectly comfortable the entire time. I never even got a blister.

The Voyageur is breathable (not waterproof), has plenty of traction (I climbed many a rock without incident) and my favorite feature - the heel wrap - it keeps the shoe snug to the back of your foot. Heck, even their shoelaces are functional; they are textured in a way which makes it hard for them to come untied on their own.

As expected, the Keen Voyageur is available for men. The waterproof version of the Voyageur is called the Targhee II.

I wasn't paid or somehow conned into writing about my Keen shoes. I just really love them! Good equipment is essential to a great outdoors experience and I wanted to pass along my recommendation.

Listening to: NIL8 - Porno Star

28 August 2008

Paging Dr. Oreo

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

The proper way to eat oreos: two milks, both 2%, both in a glass-glass; one short, no ice, for dipping; one tall, with ice, for drinking.

The separate dipping glass ensures that the ice will not damage your soggy oreo.

The proper way to eat oreos

After you polish off the glass of iced milk, pour the non-iced dunking milk into the now empty glass filled with ice, like so:

Day 077: This is how I pour (messily)

The dunking milk is now ready for drinking.

Part II

Contrary to popular belief, drinking milk with ice is not gross. Ice is a necessary part of my milk drinking experience.

Exhibit A:

Today's Milk

Exhibit B (which, admittedly, looks very similar to Exhibit A):

More milk

Exhibit C (which, admittedly, does nothing to strengthen my case):

Milk and Grilled Cheese

Exhibit D (is best complimented by a glass of milk with ice):

Pancakes for lunch

After reviewing my photos, I'd like to turn the tables and point out the obvious: drinking milk without ice is gross. Also, drinking milk in a plastic cup is gross. If that non-iced milk in a plastic cup is served at a diner out of one of those giant bags of milk (hidden in the stainless steel box), ewww, triple-gross.

Listening to: Amy Winehouse - You know I'm no good

27 August 2008

Shut up brain, or I'll stab ya with raw spaghetti noodles

I've been writing about my dumb numb toes a lot lately. Every time I twitter something about them, a few people respond with a pinched nerve story. Though no actual doctors have replied, the twitter stories have convinced me that I have a pinched nerve situation.

It seems probable.

A few weeks ago I was having sharp pains from my lower back/upper butt region, down through my legs. It kinda fizzled out somewhere in my calves, never making it to my toes. Though I'm not having those pains anymore, I have been extremely busy, stressed, and doing a lot of lifting. My back is kinda stiff, but there is no pain. That last sentence I wrote, that's why the doctor said my toe numbness has nothing to do with my back. She even said that for a stiff person, I'm more limber than most.

If it's not a pinched nerve in my back, what else could it be? Last week my doctor said, "It's not your back. I think you have a B-12 deficiency or a thyroid issue."

Say what?

A member of her staff took blood and the tests came back normal. She wanted to see me again.

When I saw her this morning I asked if she could just go ahead and treat me as if I had a pinched nerve; it never hurts to ask. She said she would, if she thought that was the problem. It's not. She is convinced that the back pain is not related to the toe numbness. This next part of the conversation, she could've totally left out.

I'm thinking, 30 year old caucasian female, numbness in toes... there's a rare chance it could be MS. You need to have an MRI of your brain.

Blank stare. Eyes blinking. Me thinking, MS? WTF? Lady, you don't know who you're dealing with. Thanks an effing lot because now I'm going to be worrying about this until I see the neurologist.

After about two seconds, because that's how fast I think, I asked, "So what happens if the MRI comes out normal?" (Okay, not the most insightful question, but at least it's a conversation starter.)

[shrugs shoulders]
That's why I'm sending you to the neurologist.

I ask, "Are you sure you don't want them to have a look-see at my back? I'm going to be there anyway."

Nope, just your brain. I know this isn't related to your back, but your toe numbness could have something to do with that migraine you had two weeks ago.


I think she's using a tactic called freak-my-patient-the-eff-out in order to motivate me to get the MRI sooner than later.

Totally unnecessary.

Listening to: Man Man - I, Manface

25 August 2008

Day 075: This is what I look like in the morning

Day 075: This is what I look like in the morning

Naked. Wrapped in a blanket. Slouched over. Drinking coffee.

I am NOT a morning person. Some days, I don't even feel like getting dressed to go downstairs to get a cup of coffee. Clothes are now an essential wardrobe requirement for the first floor, as the front door is a giant pane of glass.

Today, I was too tired to slip on my PJs and instead, I covered myself with this blanket.

That's my favorite coffee cup, by the way; it's the Original Handwarmer mug.

Listening to: NIL8 - Living Tar

20 August 2008

Hippo, Birdie, Two Ewe

Hippo, birdie, two ewe;
Hippo, birdie, two ewe;
Hippo, birdie, dear Terra;
Hippo, birdie, two ewe!

For those of you who need a translation:

Happy birthday to you;
Happy birthday to you;
Happy birthday, dear Terra;
Happy birthday to you!

(cha-cha-cha, chicken noodle soup)

18 August 2008

Welcome Home!

We've managed to unpack the kitchen and get the house stereo hooked up, otherwise known as The Essentials.

Day 068: Welcome Home!

The End

Listening to: Nil8 - Gumby Joins the Ranks of the Cock-Fighting Hooligans

14 August 2008

Jeannette does not eat sushi

Little known fact: I have not puked since I was eight years old. That incident involved Pantera's Pizza and a ride home in the back of Ellen's dad's truck. It was like shaking up a bottle of soda just before twisting off the top, only instead of soda, I ejected half-digested pizza.

For about the next five or six years, from time-to-time I'd pretend I had puked so I could take a sick day from school. I stopped faking it once I realized that it was unusual for someone to go for years at a time without blowing chunks. I'm now 30 and have gone for 22 years without tossing my cookies, barfing, upchucking, hurling, liquid burping, or whatever you call it; I do not pray to the porcelain god.

The closest I've come to destroying my non-vomiting streak was the day before my 28th birthday. I had recently ended a fourteen year stint as a vegetarian junketarian and in taste-testing a variety of new foods, I decided to try sushi. The first piece was questionable, but I tried a second one. That time, I did the whole motion where you like, lurch forward and grab your mouth because some sort of violent energy is trying to escape. I'm proud to say that I did not puke.

But I will never* eat sushi, ever, again.

To make up for my sushi-less diet I read Gorilla Sushi. You can, too. Stop by and check out today's caption contest, featuring one of MySelf Portraits!

*NEVER say never. Fast forward three years and I LOVE SUSHI!!! Vegan Sushi, but it's my favorite!**

**2013 and Vegan Sushi is STILL my favorite!

13 August 2008

Thanks! Fer what!?

The last few weeks have been busier than usual, as James and I are in the process of moving into our new home (it comes with a dishwasher!).

Day 049: My dream house

After we closed yesterday morning, we stopped at a nearby locksmith to make a copy of our keys. When the dude handed over the new keys and said, “$7.11,” I instinctively said, “Thanks!” I must've sounded a tad too excited because he suspiciously replied, “Fer what!?”

Um, making my keys?

Day 062: Cartwheeling for Joy

While we’re on the subject of thanks, I need to give a huge THANKS to Rebecca. She’s come three times in the last week to help pack, clean, organize - ya know, the fun stuff. Without her help, I’d be screwed.

Her mom is just as cool. You know that goofy science project? She gathered info on nine coworkers. How awesome is that!?

In list form, I’d also like to say thanks to the following people, for providing stats and theories for my science project and/or giving feedback regarding the Taco Bell incident:

Gorilla Sushi







Kathy G


Lane J



Da Old Man








Johnny B




Blogger friends, YOU rock!

Listening to: G. Love and Special Sauce - Poison

11 August 2008

It's not too late!

I've been so swamped with a writing assignment that I've yet to put together this goofy science project. I'd like a few more statistics, so if you have a moment, please provide me with these intimate details: blood type, the name of your second grade teacher, your favorite salad dressing, and bra size (ladies) or shoe size (men).

Wait, wait, wait - wrong experiment.

What I really need:
Arm Length:

Bonus info:
The temperature of your hand:
and / or
the volume of your index finger:

You can go here to learn more about the experiment. Children are welcome to participate.

Hey guys, remember, your contribution is helping to save the planet.

Listening to: Man Man - Zebra

06 August 2008

Spaghetti's Guide to the Galaxy

Today I've written a post over at Girl's Guide to the Galaxy.

Check it out and let me know what you think!

Listening to: Jake Shimabukuro - While My Ukulele Gently Weeps

PS - Happy One-Year Blogging Anniversary to Me!

31 July 2008

Racing to Save the Planet, one goofy hypothesis at a time

If you follow me on twitter, you may have noticed I’ve been complaining about school quite a bit. I normally find pleasure in the process of learning, but for a laundry list of reasons I’m not enjoying myself this time through. Maybe if I were in a classroom where I could interact with others I might feel differently. According to my Magic 8-Ball, it's doubtful. I'm not exactly finished with school, but dude, I am so over it. I've even written one or two smart-ass remarks in emails to my teachers.

To quote myself (the quote is from further down this page, ha ha):
What on earth does any of this have to do with saving the planet? I have no idea. I even emailed my teacher and asked if there was a different way I could demonstrate my understanding of the scientific process, the motion was denied.

When my teacher said I couldn't alter the dumb assignment I'm about to describe in this blog, I emailed her back with:
Oh well, it never hurts to ask. This isn't my first goofy assignment, but at least I know it'll be my last.

I'm lucky she didn't get pissed. For that, she's a good woman.

Day 050: Abnormal Psychology
Studying for one of my other telecourses.

This is the first time I've taken a semester of telecourses and it kinda sucks. One at a time, no big deal; taking all of my classes on my own, not so much fun. At least I have Meryl Streep, circa 1990, to keep me company throughout my Race to Save the Planet videos.

For one assignment, I am required to develop four different hypotheses, but I need help. I’ve been stumped for two reasons:

1. I have writer’s block. I’d like to develop interesting hypotheses, but right now I’ve only generated boring ideas. This assignment will yield several pages of writing, so I’d like to make it as interesting as possible.

2. Data collection. I don’t really come into personal contact with a lot of people and when I do, I hate to say, “Hey dad, I know you’re recovering from surgery, but would you mind sticking your finger in this beaker of water so I can measure the volume of liquid that is displaced? It’s for an environmental science class....” And when is there a good time to ask for someone’s height, weight, and arm length?


Now would be a good time to ask for such information.

If you’d like to help with my school assignment, you can email me or submit an anonymous comment. Please.

Info I need:
Arm Length:

Bonus info:
The temperature of your hand:
and / or
the volume of your index finger:

What on earth does any of this have to do with saving the planet? I have no idea. I even emailed my teacher and asked if there was a different way I could demonstrate my understanding of the scientific process, the motion was denied. 

Carry on.

Below are the constraints for the four parts to this experiment, please let me know if any of them spark a creative idea.

1. Construct a hypothesis of the relationship between height and weight. Measure and weigh a variety of people, then test the hypothesis.

2. You’ve probably noticed tall people have long arms, short people have short arms. State a hypothesis, measure arm length and height in a variety of people, then test the hypothesis.

3. Some people have warm hands, others have cold hands. State a hypothesis, measure hand temperature in a variety of people, test the hypothesis.

4. State a hypothesis about the relationship between the index finger and it’s volume. Measure finger volume (water displacement or calculate via length x width x height) and length for a variety of people, then test the hypothesis.

Can you think of a good hypothesis for even one of these?

Also, don’t forget to send me an email or leave a comment (anonymous is fine) with at least your height and weight, possibly arm length, and if you’re feeling froggy, your hand temperature, or the volume of your index finger. Not only will you be helping me with a school assignment, you’ll be saving the planet, too.

Listening to: NIL8 - don’t call me corky (kung-fu pt. II)

30 July 2008

Everything pales in comparison

Lisa, our Midwestern Mommy, has cancer.


I tried to write some introspective and encouraging words, but I don't even know what to say right now.

If you haven't done so already, please visit Lisa's blog and show support.

Also, the lovely and talented Jaelithe created a badge that you can post to your site. You can visit this page to learn more.

(Of course, you might be a dumb white girl, like myself, who can't figure out how to copy the badge to her blog. I've put an email to a good friend who is about to double as tech support.)

Update: Though the diagnosis is not final, Lisa's prognosis already looks better! Visit her blog for the latest information and leave her well-wishes while you're there.

24 July 2008

Forty-Three Days

Into my 365 project.

Day 043: Crazy Hair

This photo is a good representation of my week: wild.

Listening to: Weezer - Surf Wax America

21 July 2008

Dear Taco Bell at 6660 Manchester,

Your employees are racist assholes.

Okay, maybe not all of them, but there was at least one person who was working today at 12:45 who could be described as a racist asshole. I made an honest mistake and as such, one person YELLED to another, “Dumb white girl don’t know how to read!!!”

Um, I know how to read, but I sometimes have trouble interpreting confusing grammar. I’m sorry. Mistakes happen.

The sign read:

speaker is broken please say “hi” when you pull up

Since the note begins with, “speaker is broken,” I thought they meant to say hi when I pulled up to the window to order my food because, well, the speaker is broken.

BUZZ! Wrong answer!

So I get to the window and am greeted with one timid person trying to take my order and another angrily yelling to me from behind her, “Why didn’t you place your order at the speaker?” I was blindsided by her tone of voice and before I could say anything she turned around and yelled to the back, “Dumb white girl don’t know how to read!!!”

Not really sure what to do, me and the other white girl (I’m not sure if she was also dumb; she seemed afraid more than anything), we just looked at each other blankly and she proceeded to complete the transaction. I apologized, trying to explain that I erred by misreading the sign; she shrugged her shoulders and closed the window.

Now this part I’m just speculating, but I’m sure the aforementioned conversation continued, as I heard muffled voices and several people came to have a peek at the “dumb white girl.”

I apologized two more times before driving off. Again, the girl shrugged her shoulders and didn't attempt to pass my words along. I should’ve asked for my money back because I’m not sure it’s a good idea to even eat that food. They were so cheesed off that I didn’t say “hi” at the speaker, who knows how they've tainted my beloved chili cheese burrito.

How would you have handled the situation?

I remember being in a similar ordeal in 2001. It involved a different grouping of asshole Taco Bell employees, a long wait behind no other customers and me feeling ignored as I watched them lazily talk for more than 15 minutes after I paid. And I may have been hopped up on PMS. I felt like a hostage, watching the clock, waiting for my food, and since I had already paid, I couldn't abandon the mission. To make a long story short, they said some stuff and I chucked my full 32 ounce Dr. Pepper at the drive-thru window.

Sure, there was an element of awkwardness to it, me sitting there waiting for my refund, glaring at the person on the other side of the glass, watching soda and ice run down the window and spill onto both the floor inside and concrete outside. Though I’d never* do that again, there was something satisfying about watching that racist asshole clean up my soda and refund my money.

Both times, there was nothing I could’ve said to those people to make them think of me as anything other than the “the dumb white girl.” Nowadays I mostly choose the suck-it-up-and-back-away-from-the-situation route because I don’t want to cause any trouble.

*Never say never.

Listening to: Toadies - Tyler

20 July 2008

What $10.48 will get you

...at the farmer's market in the Loop.

Ten Dollars

6 bananas
4 potatoes
3 ears of corn
2 plums
2 avocados 
2 kiwis
1 red pepper
1 green pepper
1 pound of mushrooms
1 grouping of broccoli

Yeah, that's right; I have no idea how much broccoli I purchased, how it's weighed, or what you'd even call those little broccoli bushels that are pre-rubber-banded (always in blue).

You'll find everything you need here, but don't show up expecting to see the multi-vendor variety found in Soulard; Long Acres Farm seems to be the only merchant in the Loop for fresh fruits and vegetables. However, I've found this to be a timesaver as I'm not running around trying to compare goods from one farmer's stand to the next.

Over the last few months I've been a regular and I've been very happy with the quality and price of their food. All the workers are friendly, even the one lady who looks like a serial killer (if you've been, you know who I'm talking about). You can even call ahead of your arrival to place an order; they'll gather up your wares to save you time and there's no extra charge for this service. Shucks, even when you refuse their offer, they like to insist on carrying your groceries to your car, ma'am. 

And they're open year round.

8:30 - 5:30
Thurs - Fri - Sat

6655 Delmar
University City, MO 63130
(314) 863-2418

Listening to: Bear Gryles (Man vs. Wild); he's drinking his own urine. Ewww.

17 July 2008

Darn! ...at least we have the memories

I bid on a writing job for a company that deals with gravesite care, memorials, and so on. It didn’t work out, but I hate to see these few paragraphs go to waste.

Enjoy. Or don’t enjoy. But whatever.


Today is beautiful and serene. The sun is shining, the wind is blowing and I can see for miles. I’m at Eagle Cliff / Miles Cemetery, standing at the edge of a bluff overlooking the farmlands of the Mississippi River floodplain in Illinois.

Some of my earliest memories involve a strong attraction to this cemetery, a place which I enjoy visiting to this day. As a child I remember riding in the back of my parents car, looking up to see a curious stone mausoleum jutting out from the trees at the top of the bluff. It looked mysterious, it felt special and I loved it. I wondered about the people who were buried there. Who were they? What kind of life had they lived? What happened to them?

The cemetery is filled with local families, farmers, war heroes and everyday folk alike. Constructed in 1858, the mausoleum once housed Stephen W. Miles and ten of his family members. Its 56 vaults now stand empty. As a teenager I heard outlandish rumors that the cemetery had been plagued by jewelry thieves and vandals, and that it was once a place for satanic worship. Later I learned those rumors are true. In the 1960s, a group of “hippies” removed the bodies from their individual vaults and burned them as part of a seance. Outraged by this horrific incident, locals sealed up the mausoleum and today cinderblocks fill the arched window frames where beautiful stained glass once stood.

Nowadays, visitors are permitted to go inside the mausoleum and view its emptiness disrupted only by painted effigies of “James was here” and “Tom loves Tina.” After many visits it’s become clear the mausoleum is an ever-changing canvas of graffiti for bored teenagers; soon after the stone is cleaned a new spray painted design will appear in its place. Undeterred, volunteers work hard to wash away the graffiti, maintain the cemetery’s lawn and repair toppled and weathered grave markers. Hoping to unravel the mystery, preserve history and keep the cemetery’s legacy fresh in our minds, their efforts have been met with success. Eagle Cliff / Miles Cemetery has been restored to the peaceful place it once was, offering a tranquil environment for one to reflect upon and contemplate life.

Miles Tomb


You can read more here.

Listening to: Man Man - Man Who Make You Sick

15 July 2008

A slight miscalculation

For three weeks I've been freaking out because I thought my final class assignments were due on August 1st. My deadline was slightly miscalculated by yours truly; the actual due date is October 5th.

That changes everything.

Houston, we have a party!

Gay tortoise sex

Hey Courtney, there's that gay tortoise sex you were interested in. (It's not what you think people. I'm referring to her comment on my last post.)

This fun moment occurred in the Reptile Gardens outside of Hill City, SD. Soon after we came into the tortoise area, we spied these two love birds getting frisky. I thought to myself, "huh huh. Turtle sex." Then I thought, "Hey man, aren't these things like 120 years old? We're watching old people sex. Ew."

Once the excitement wore off, I asked the very young lady working the tortoise corral if it were normal for turtles to do it for fun. Her answer was a giggly, "Yes, they do it for fun all the time."

That does it. Now she's got me curious.

Me: So, um, how exactly do you know they're doing it for fun and not doing it for baby making purposes?

Her: They're all boys.

Me: That rules out the "baby making" theory.

Her: Oh yeah, they do it all the time.

Listening to: NIL8 - Apocalypse Man

Update: ~static~ left a comment that made me think I should clarify ...
I support gays. I don't want someone to ever read this and think I'm gay-bashing in any way, shape or form. I have family and friends who are gay, I go to gay bars with them and ya know, I think every open minded person should experience a drag show at least once. It's a fabulous time.

14 July 2008

Them-thar Hills

I’m up to my ears in homework and all I can think of is everything not homework. I’d prefer to edit and upload photos of our Black Hills, SD camping trip, but there are just too many to begin that endeavor right now (I took roughly 1000 photos, so it's gonna take a bit for me to edit and post them). You can see a few pictures I’ve posted as part of my 365 Project, but ya know, it’s all like, photos of my head in front of Mount Rushmore, or in front of a bunch of fossils or my cheesin' smile in the blackness of a cave.

Insert dreamy music and cool fade away effect.

Thinking back, the weather was fantastic! Three of our twelve tent camping nights did get rather cold, but what can you do (...be sure to have some long underwear in reaching-out-of-my-sleeping-bag distance!)? And it rained almost every day and/or night, but again what can you do (...be prepared)? Despite the cold and rain, it wasn't hot and it wasn't humid; I'm from St. Louis and the absence of those two factors make for great weather memories.

We had an awesome camping spot where it was a little hard for the neighbors to see us. The place even had SHOWERS! Wait, wait, wait, the news gets even better: Horse Thief Campground is near Custer State Park, which is where we spent about half of our time (hiking). In the park, we hung out at Sylvan Lake, hiked the Sunday Gulch and Cathedral Spires trails and also hiked to the top of Little Devils Tower and Harney Peak. If you're into rock climbing, Custer State Park is fantastic for that activity, too.

We visited Deadwood, Sturgis, Rapid City, Keystone and Hot Springs. We also drove to Wyoming to see Devils Tower (cool) where we did an easy hike around the base of it. Basically, we did just about everything you can do, even touring the Cosmos Mystery Area which was one of the coolest optical illusions I've ever experienced. Heck, we even witnessed gay tortoise sex and visited the Crazy Horse Memorial to watch a night explosion. It was a blast! (get it?)

...I must digress and provide a little background info....

To sum up the premise of the memorial, from their web site it says "Sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski and Lakota Chief Henry Standing Bear officially started Crazy Horse Memorial June 3, 1948. The Memorial's mission is to honor the culture, tradition and living heritage of North American Indians." From what I remember, Chief Standing Bear wrote a letter to Korczak Ziolkowski during the construction of Mount Rushmore, saying something to the effect of "I want white men to know that red men have great heroes, too." (Not his exact words.)


As we waited for the pre-explosion laser show to begin, an intense storm swept through and temporarily drove everyone indoors. The storm quickly made its way into the distance and each time the sky lit with lightning, it dramatically highlighted the silhouette of the rock sculpture. It was perfectly awesome.

So we’re watching the laser show, listening to the educational and entertaining propaganda blare over the loudspeaker, when suddenly, I hear a song begin and it's that effing "I'm proud to be an American" patriotic song. The lyrics start, "If tomorrow all the things were gone I’d worked for all my life / And I had to start again with just my children and my wife. / I’d thank my lucky stars to be living here today, / ‘Cause the flag still stands for freedom and they can’t take that away."

Thinking to self: Hello? Can somebody get the DJ?

I looked around and realized I was surrounded by overweight Americans, singing along and saluting toward the monument (yoo hoo, the flag is behind you). One lady was even crying. Crying.

Lady, for the love of all things unholy, now is not the time to be all Proud-to-be-an-American. Um, aren't we all supposed to be reflecting on a period of history when our forefathers kinda took away Native America from Native Americans? And today, we're so self-centered that we can't even let them have one damn monument, one memorial, one place that focuses on their history and their culture?

Can you say:



If I had the ability to barf, I would have. Ugh. I don't really have a right to be offended, but the memorial is supposed to be about NATIVE AMERICANS. It felt inappropriate.

Then they set off a bunch of dynamite and everything in the world was suddenly right because, explosions are cool, huh huh.

(Yikes! My trip down Vacation Memory Lane took a quick detour.  It's the only complaint I have, honest.)
Listening to: The Bloodhound Gang - Boom

09 July 2008

When Absentmindedness Attacks

Remember yesterday when I twittered about my missing car keys? Well, the story begins on Monday evening when James was about to make our plates for dinner. The neighbor called and asked if we could move my car back a few feet so he could mow. I was finishing a load of laundry so James moved my car. It turns out, my keys were left in the ignition (car unlocked) until last night. At first I thought we were lucky that nobody stole my car, a red mustang, which has already been broken into twice before, until today when I tried to leave and discovered the battery is dead.

I could've easily done the same thing.

Though I've not done that before, my absentmindedness causes me to forget things and lose stuff all the time. I have a long list, somewhere, of things-to-look-for, things I have misplaced; of course, when I tried to find my list for this blog post, I discovered it's missing. I'm not surprised. I'm also not worried because I know it'll turn up. The things I've lost are almost always recovered. Hell, even when I lost my cell phone for a month, told everyone I knew that I must have somehow accidentally tossed it out the window while driving down the road (which is dumb logic considering I don't make it a habit of tossing things out the window), it eventually showed up under the front passenger floor mat of my car.

I wasted a whole bunch of time looking for my phone and it was hidden right in front of me the whole time. Remember my missing camera charger? It was with my headlamp the whole time. Who knew?

I've been like this my whole life and that's pretty much how the story always goes. I remember being a kid, getting all upset because I couldn't find something and then my mom would go into my room and find it within ten seconds. On our camping trip, every day I was looking for something:

...Gee, where is my driver's license? Let's see, it was in the inside zipper pocket of my black Marmot jacket and before that, it was in the right side cargo pocket of my green capris and before that, it was in my zippered wallet. But where is it now? Let me spend fifteen minutes tearing through my things, misplacing other items in the process, only to discover that the damn thing was in the inside zipper pocket of my black Marmot jacket the whole entire time and I didn't feel it or see it because I had a few gas station napkins in the pocket, too.


Has anyone seen my olivine necklaces, last seen while packing for our camping trip?

Listening to: Man Man - Tunneling Through the Guy

08 July 2008

It's like we never left The Building

Returning from being away for two weeks always takes a few days to recover, especially when you stay up until 3 am the first three nights at home. Well, the first night we really couldn’t help it. We drove fifteen hours from the southwestern area of South Dakota to the eastern side of Missouri in St. Louis and found our way inside the house just after 1 am on July Fourth. We were exhausted from the 984 mile drive home, but of course we couldn’t fall right asleep.

We sat down to take a deep breath, look around and comprehend the fact we were finally home. The house was clean. Everything was in perfect order. We needed nothing out of the car. James removed his shoes and the room immediately smelled like a nameless person had sealed up their wet feet inside their Gortex shoes, some sixteen hours ago when we finished our morning showers back at camp. This situation necessitated an immediate shower.

And because you can’t have one clean person and one stinky person in the same bed, I also had to shower. Which meant I had to change the sheets. And dig out those clean sheets and four pillow cases, strip the bed and then remake it. Then wash my hair and body, brush my teeth, and so on. It’s not a big deal, really, except we had that long-ass drive and I just wanted two stinky people to climb into a stinky bed and worry about cleanliness in the morning.

Friday we slept in and then awoke to find ourselves still exhausted. We were lazy, made a pizza for lunch, watched Resident Evil, then called a cab to take us to the Cards/Cubs game. We watched the game with friends (the Cards lost, booo) and then saw the fireworks from the stadium. Afterward, we walked to Washington Avenue to have a drink at The Dubliner, then we bowled a game at Flamingo Bowl, hailed a cab, went home and the next thing we knew it’s like 2:30 in the morning.

Saturday we slept in and then awoke to find ourselves still exhausted. We were lazy, ate Chinese Take Out, watched another Resident Evil movie, then drove to my parents to get Nico (our dog). We visited with them for a while then took a short road trip to see a friend. I was jonesing for a burger and BLAMMO - Adam grilled hamburgers! Though he didn’t have any cheese, the burger was still awesome. Next thing we knew, it’s like 2:30 in the morning.

Sunday we slept in and then awoke to find ourselves still exhausted. We were lazy, I can’t even remember what we did for lunch and it was only yesterday. We didn’t watch a movie, but had to finally drag our gear out of the vehicle to unpack it, clean everything, then pack it all away for storage. With teamwork, it didn’t take too long. Afterward we ate a nice, healthy dinner at Olympia’s (I love that place!), watched the first half of Dances With Wolves and the next thing we knew it was 10:30. Time for bed.

Monday it was back to business as usual.

It’s like we were never away.

Except I’m now two weeks behind in school.

Listening to: Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe

07 July 2008

Well that was stupid

Secret post idea. Fucking dumbass accidentally publishing under today's date. grrrrrr
just in case

04 July 2008

One Hairy Leg

Hi, honey! I'm home!

And I'm sitting here with one hairy leg and one shaved leg.

You see, the camp shower was really freaking cold and I tried to shave my legs, but it proved dangerous since they were covered in huge goose bumps. I half-ass shaved my one leg before giving up, thinking I'd try to finish in the morning. But it's now two days later and, well, I'm gonna go shave now. (Isn't James a lucky guy?)

In a few hours we'll be headed downtown to meet up with friends before we go to tonight's Cards/Cubs game!

Happy 4th of July!

02 July 2008

Rain, rain go away. I’m for serious, rain. Go. Away.

...because we need to pack up our campsite and then head out to dinner, come back and enjoy a hot fire on our twelfth - and final - night of camping in the Black Hills of South Dakota. But, NooOOOooo, instead of packing we have to wait out a storm that seems to never end.

On the bright side, it’s more than a quarter-mile walk to the camp headquarters and we’re somehow able to pick up a wireless signal right at our campsite, number 105 at the Horse Thief Campground, though it’s slower than balls dial-up. To pass the time, I'll post a few observations I’ve made while here:

- Stainless steel dishes are loud when you drop a stack of them onto a pile of rocks. Also, they bounce everywhere and are likely to incur a few dents.

- Kilt + Iron Maiden T-Shirt + an androgynous partner = just as weird as it sounds.

- Some tent campers are totally unprepared. Like last night, when it’s nightfall and a family shows up and proceeds to take their brand new tent out of the box. We know how to set up our tent, and it really sucks to do it in the dark. Why in the world you’d decide to set one up for the very first time in the dark is above and beyond my level of misunderstanding. To be brief, James spent nearly an hour setting up their tent.

- Every. Single. Day. Some goofball sets off their car alarm. When that person hits the Panic Button it echoes quite well throughout the valley. You better believe that I’m hitting our Panic Button at the butt crack of dawn, just before we pull out of the campground.

- Did you know baby caterpillars can look a lot like maggots? They fall from trees, too.

- People enjoy walking their dogs to other campsites. You see, it’s so much better when other campers have to deal with random dog shit. Seriously, yo! Since you know what’s going to happen (you’re about to walk your Shit-Zoo Mixed-Breed dog near my tent so he can take his after dinner dump), stick a fucking baggie in your pocket because A) we can see you; and B) it’s only proper etiquette to pack out your dog shit from our campsite.
Thanks, The Management.

Listening to: NIL8

17 June 2008

Playing Dress Up: The Devil Bride


Day 006: Surprise! We're going to the Badlands for our Anniversary!

We’ll be celebrating our Anniversary in the Badlands, SD!

Why am I surprised? Because our anniversary is in four days!

...We better get packing!

Listening to: Clothes tumbling around in the dryer

16 June 2008

Take a picture, it'll last longer

I thought Rebecca was crazy for taking a photo every day during the month of May; now I've decided to take a self-portrait every day for a year. Of course, I posted the first day's photo on day two... way to get off on the right foot.

The only thing I do on a daily basis is pee, so we'll see how well I do.

Here's today's photo:

Day 005: I do all my own stunts

Day five: I do all my own stunts.

Here's my 365 Project and MySelf Portraits.

Listening to: NIL8 - Don't Call Me Corky (Kung-Fu Part II)

14 June 2008

A tough act to follow

I love it when someone memes me, yet I rarely respond to them. Why? I think it’s because I read what the other person wrote and tell myself I can’t write anything nearly as clever, ingenious, or meaningful. I still feel guilty because I never responded to Baol’s meme or Courtney’s

Sorry, guys.

I’m apologizing because I’m doing a meme today, but not responding to either of yours. Heck, I wasn’t even invited to do this particular one. I’m just following Kim’s lead.

I am: starting to feel restless. It’s nice outside but I want to go swimming. Unfortunately, there's nowhere for me to do this.

I think: I’m supposed to thank God for this next answer. But I’m not going to.

I thank: James for taking good care of me. He does.

I know: what I did last summer.

I wish: gas and food prices weren’t so high.

I hate: green beans.

I miss: waking up in Hawaii.

I feel: like a lusty seagull.

I shop: as little as possible. I hate shopping.

I hear: my dog barking and growling in her sleep.

I crave: a new purse. I really want a new purse.

I wonder: what it will be like to own a dishwasher.

I dream: about being a mom and having a family.

I love: lamp.

I care. That two word sentence sounds really sarcastic.

I always: have a hard time waking up, regardless of how many hours I’ve slept.

I celebrate: somewhere else. Our house is small; we only have two kitchen chairs.

I sing: horribly.

I cry: when I get really pissed off.

I don't always: silence my burps. I know it’s not lady like, but sometimes a burp deserves a good pull.

I totally write: the way I speak, dude.

I pray: I don’t.

I lose: stuff all the time. I like to say that I live somewhere between total organization and mass fucking chaos, but I actually live in a disaster zone.

I listen: to music when I'm by myself. Which is all day.

I am scared: for the planet. Humans seem to be destroying it.

I dance: all the time, and somehow I’m still horrible .

I need: a total makeover. Then, I need a personal shopper to help me maintain the makeover.

I surf: the Internet in lieu of watching tv.

I dread: going to the dentist.

I anticipate: our upcoming home renovations. Wait, maybe it’s dread that I'm feeling.

I laugh: at fart jokes.

Tag. Terra's it.

What the hell, Jessica, you're it, too.

10 June 2008

Nico the Luckdragon

Every time, ever, that I've had Nico groomed, ever, she comes home looking like she's about to star in a Broadway production of the Neverending Story, as Falkor the Luckdragon.

Nico -- after haircut

Granted, she looks cute, but this haircut doesn't quite match her spunky personality.

Nico -- before

Now that's more like it.

09 June 2008

A Family Affair

The last week has gone by so fast. I did so much, yet accomplished so little. Well, I didn't get a lot of homework done, but I've caught up with quite a few family members.

On Monday, I cranked out three small assignments for one class, turned them in and headed to my Uncle Doug's. I arrived some time after four in the afternoon. We sat around, drank beer, ate pizza and talked. And talked. And talked. All. Night. Long. Seriously - we stayed up until at least five in the morning. Then I couldn't sleep. Then the sun started coming up. So I drove home.

As a result of this, my Tuesday was all messed up. I slept a few hours in the morning, a few hours in the afternoon, then got a major headache after dinner. That sucked.

Wednesday I spent the day in Homework City.

Thursday morning I ran a few errands. Before noon, I headed out to Fort de Chartres to visit my Uncle Ron who was camping there. I thought I'd hang out for a few hours, he'd tired of me and start dropping hints that I needed to scram, I'd get the hint and head home. As it turns out, we had lots and lots to talk about. So we talked. And talked. And talked. Until I absolutely had to leave... it was after six in the afternoon. I decided to take the super-scenic way home, which was awesome because I had to come home, do laundry, and then pack.

Friday we woke up and drove to visit James' sister, Julie, where we stayed with her for the weekend. On Saturday, James went fishing with the boys (and small children) while the girls stayed back and had a baby shower for Julie.

Sunday, we ate a great breakfast, waited 31 minutes, then went swimming. Because I'm so graceful, I may have broken my toe (again); while walking around the pool, blowing up an air mattress (not looking where I was walking) I walked right into some sort of plumbing apparatus that was sticking up on the sidewalk. The tell-tale bruising is just lovely.

Then we packed up and drove home.

Now it's Monday. Again.


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