Darkneuro's House of Musings

a call in the dark....

2011-12-29T23:40:00.000-05:00

...come back to us!!!
From Coopernicus.

I heeded the call. It has, after all, been since Halloween. We had zero trick or treaters. ZERO. Nicht. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I was (vaguely) disappointed, but this is the Bible Belt...Or the buckle thereof. Pick your bit of the belt, how's that?
Then a zip through November, fraught with various illnesses and malaise, a trip to the ER for my painted man, headcolds and stomach viruses all around... I do work in a call center. It is on par with a daycare for illnesses. A good Thanksgiving was had (we had guests! J2&TRex(with baby bump in tow!) showed up unexpectedly). I think I should just get used to the fact that nobody RSVPs, and if I invite people over, I should just plan for a crowd and clean accordingly. Got responses on Samhain and nobody showed up. No responses for Turkeyday and we had guests. Go figure. So I'm just going to remember 'If you invite them, they may come', and not wait for a 'Yes, I'll be there' to run a vacuum and put up my laundry piles.
I also managed to complete another NaNoWriMo, and I'm still writing it. Reliquary of Dreams. Time travel. If you want the link, EMAIL ME and I'll hook you up.

So that brings us to December in this listing of things and stuff. December. Cold. I think of December and I think 'It's going to be cold. Very cold. All the light will go away and it will be cold.' The light goes away because it's at the wrong angle in the sky to begin with here... having your golden orb hanging about 10 degrees off what it should be (subjectively) isn't fun at all and messes with my sense of time. But it hasn't been cold. Up until the last 2 weeks or so, we've been warm. Warm. 60's warm. But I still got sick. Still have the chest part of it, too. I was an early adopter of this particular cold (one of the supervisors just came down with it), getting it on the 8th...How do I know? Because I stayed home on the 9th (aced out on that one-thought I was calling in sick only to hear there were system issues and everyone was home). Then I missed the 12th, too. Still ill. Then it settled into a chest cold (it's not bronchitis...not severe enough-just a continuing cough) and there it sits, still gathering & clearing my winter sniffles.

Then, my stress levels went through the roof. As if it weren't enough (not to sound like I'm whining, but it feels like I'm whining and maybe I am, but I don't want to-does that make sense???) that money is tight not only due to the economy in general-
tangent: Milk here, whole milk, is at $3.58 a gallon. WHAAAA? 2 years ago, it was $2.19 a gallon. shakin' my head, i'm shakin' my head...
-not only due to the economy in general, but I've been sick, Sic-un's been sick (including his trip to the ER), so hours spent at work are down-which creates less money- the circle means it's tight...
Then I get a call from my dad. on...the 15th? 16th? one of the 2.
Mom's in the hospital. She couldn't breathe, so they took her in. Admitted. They took two liters of fluid out of one of her lungs. Yeah. Hold a 2 liter bottle up to your chest. Now. Drain that from one lung. Yeah.
They run their tests. She tells me Monday they found 'spots'. No more information, just 'they found spots' and 'more tests'. My anxiety and panic attacks start. Brief little random attacks of the little guy in my skull freaking out on me...I breathe and they go away. So I'll be ok, Mom'll be OK, not a problem, we got this.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011, I found out my mother has lung cancer.

Here's your kiss and punch, kiddo: It has not metastasized, but it's very aggressive. Oooh, more passive-aggression: Your mother will be having chemo for Christmas, radiation on her birthday (NYE...grampa's little tax deduction). Per my father.
It wasn't until i spoke to my sister 3 days later that I found out what was really going on. Still a 1-2 punch combo, but not nearly as dire as Dad made it.
Yes, it's aggressive. No, it has not metastasized. It responds very well to chemo. Stage 1. Stage 1. Small-cell sarcanoma. Her lung started filling up with fluid again, so they sent her to ICU with a respirator and a drain. She was getting enough oxygen, just not expelling enough CO2. They started the chemo, it has been responding. All plusses. ALL PLUSSES. Potentially out of the hospital this weekend. She does chemo for 6 months on a 21 day rotation, light radiation to protect her brain and other internals from any radicals after the chemo is finis, she'll be good. They've found dead cancer cells in the fluids she's been getting rid of. The doctor says the fluid expulsion is basically her body fighting it the only way it can.
All is good on the Mom front, right?

I feel like I'm losing my mind. The anxiety attacks have become almost a daily happenstance. Out of nowhere, the little guy in my head starts screaming for Momma....My heart pounds, my breathing becomes labored, I start to sweat, my stomach knots, sounds go wonky and my vision blurs because I've suddenly teared up. This morning's episode lasted somewhere around 4 hours... About 15 minutes before I left the house, here comes the shakes and the thought 'Ok, slow down. Stop. Just be still, breathe' because I know all hell is about to break loose in my skull and I can't control it and it's going to go physio...
I have to coach myself through my calls so I don't start berating the customers. My smile is plastered on my face like so much makeup if anyone who isn't an intimate friend looks at me. I have to count my breathing because otherwise I start hyperventilating. People standing around me talking makes me want to curl up and scream with my hands over my ears. Little things are becoming big things. We're switched to stadium seating for a few weeks while reorganization of the teams takes place-Oh.My.God. It's just a seat switch, right? Not working for me. Not working at all. Other phonepads don't sound right. They have a buzz. This chair sucks, that one does too. This computer is slow. I want my old seat back. 'We switched to stadium seating' becomes 'Why the fuck did you let that snotty little fucking lisping cow sit in MY SEAT?!?!' Little becomes big. Someone annoys me, just their voice or mannerism or hell, they BREATHE and it kills me for a couple of days. I get a coaching ('you did this wrong') and I want to quit. The only thing that's preventing me from it is that I really don't want to go looking for another job, and, well... Back to money.
I can't afford missed work. I can't afford a shrink (even with insurance). I can't afford a doctor, frankly. I don't have a primary, so I'm left with the stupid 'take care' clinic that's great for diagnosing a sinus infection, but pretty much useless for anything else. So I'm self-medicating when I'm off work and aum-aum-aum-ing my way through each. fucking. workday. Because I can't call in to make myself better, and I can't afford a doctor to make me better.
And I still owe the hospital for my ER bill from JULY when I had my toe xrayed.
And someone ran into Lancelot while I was in the store getting sodas and beer a couple nights ago. Lovely little dent by the driver's door, towards the rear. Some old lady from 2 rows over said she saw it and 'he just drove away before I could pull out a pen for his license plate'.
Thanks. My one possession worth any money at all and now it's severely damaged. It was his best saving grace...He didn't have any body damage. Well, that's fucked now.
Christmas really really sucked this year. Sic-un did get me a new mouse. I loves it. HE got new slippers and a shirt and some new hats. I gave my other loves baked goods and candy. It's all I could really afford.

So stress is through the roof and the insomnia is worse and I feel like crap and I want to just huddle in a ball and cry for a month on my momma's lap.

How are you?

http://www.signs-of-stress.com/images/StressSymptoms.gif

Happy Samhain!

2011-10-31T17:31:00.001-04:00

The wheel turns, the wheel burns, and it is Samhain again, the time when the veil between the worlds is thinnest and anything is possible during the New Year....

Above is my contribution to the Pumpkin Patch this year... He's gonna go out on the porch 'round about 6ish, 7ish...whenever.
I'm being 'loose' this year. We are having people over-almost as an afterthought. I decided I wanted to make soda bread and Irish Beef Stew (with Guinness!), and TRex&J2 were at loose ends, so they were invited to dinner, and J is at loose ends, so he's invited to dinner...
Sic-un is currently taking a nap and I've been cooking.
Bread, then stew. And the stew is simmering.
The house is clean.
Laundry is done.
I'm wearing clean clothes.
The house smells good (stew-YUMYUM)...
I think I'm gonna hit my pipe and kick back a few until people start arriving...If they do. If they don't, no biggie.
Like I said...I'm being 'loose' this year.

Happy Halloween, my loves. Be safe and be smart and have a ton of fun.

auuuummmmmm.....auuuummmmm.....

2011-10-22T22:33:00.000-04:00

I can't seem to stay away.
Yes, I propositioned J again. Well, actually, it was pointing out that since he works 3rd shift with Sunday and Mondays off and hobbies and a life and stuff and I work 2nd shift with Saturday & Sunday off and my own hobbies and life and stuff, there was nothing preventing me from dropping by his place, say...some Saturday morning? Until now, it's been here, either in the closet (when Sosu was still here, if he happened to be home/sleeping) or in the spare room (formerly Sosu's-it's a tangent).
And then a bit later in the conversation/discussion, I asked him if he wanted company.
I now have 3 large-ish hickeys as a necklace.
I gave as good as I got, although with him latched on lamprey-like to my collarbone, I was able to reach his pec instead of his collarbone for my own serious marking...Yes, serious. Deep burgundy, almost purple. Including an artistic little triangular one.
And I had to be mostly quiet. I think I did OK at that...for the most part. Jury's still out.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend the morning.

And then tonight, I made turkey & dumplings since Sic-un can't eat chicken (and there's a girl at work whose mother is the same the way). It was heavenly. I roasted the turkey bits beforehand (a breast tenderloin and a bone-in, skin on thigh) with just a dab of butter and some seasoning. Then I threw 1/2 an onion (chopped) and a carrot (chunked) into some chicken broth (ultra processed chicken=ok for Sic-un) with the bones & nasty bits from the roasted with the pan juices. Let that go about 1 1/2 hours, seasoned it to perfection. The meat was chopped & waiting in the roasting dish (too small an amount for a pan-I used my Corningware casserole dish). I strained the broth into the meat, pulled the fond, threw the meat & now strained broth into a simmer, waited about 1/2 an hour. Again adjusted seasoning, throwing in some poultry seasoning mix I have. Let that go about 1 hour. Then dumplings. I used the Betty Crocker recipe, using soda instead of powder. Still turned out. I let the dumplings go about 10 minutes, then threw in small new redskin potatoes and some frozen corn for veg. Then another half hour, 45 minutes. The dumplings, for the most part, disintegrated into the broth, making it super creamy rich.
I had 2 bowlsful.

Sosu is an enigma right now. He was living here, then not. His stuff is still here, but he hasn't darkened the door in over a month. Part of his time has been spent in Washington, I know that. Sic-un's father, a very, VERY dashing man (he gave the impression he'd be perfectly at home flinging a scarf over his shoulder as he rescued his lady love) recently ... There is no good way to say someone has died, you know? A sudden attack of cancer, actually. No, really. His PET scan was the ...6th and he was in the hospital the evening of the 8th. Never really left it, although they got him into hospice care. My beautimous Sic-un is broken from it. I wish I could make him feel better.

And that's been the latest. Otherwise, it's just apathy and stress for the most part.

argh.

2011-09-21T00:22:00.000-04:00

i have no idea what to write...
I can talk about J flabbergasting me this evening by telling me I have him wrapped around my little finger if I want to assert that...
I don't know how I feel about this, it just flabbergasted me. And I'm still a bit poleaxed over it.... I don't like that kind of control over people. I don't like giving people that kind of control over me and I don't like having that kind of control. I made a pithy comment about 'Autonomy!' and left it at that, which was decidedly unsatisfying.
What do you tell people that say (in effect) "You have huge amounts of power over me"?

The alternate dimension is grating on me lately. We got a new supervisor of supervisors. I would say no big deal, but you know how you can just feel that someone doesn't like you and will never like you, that you just rub them the wrong way so it's best if you stay out of direct contact? Yeah...doesn't work so well if they're above the person above you.
You start wondering if everything you do is wrong or if your job is in jeopardy because you might have said or done something months and potentially years ago to piss off the big boss. It's been stressful, to say the least. And it's all well and good to say 'take a day off', but apparently, I can't even do that properly. Sic-un has been hollerin' to gather up PTO and take a 'real' vacation next year. So I requested time off as unpaid. Denied. Ok. So I can't take time off unless it's paid. OK... So now I have to take all time off as paid and there goes any vacation plans for the future because my attendance at the place is shit. As soon as one absence rolls off, I manage to get another one. I've been on 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 absences for a fucking year now. So I'm trying to get my attendance cleaned up so I CAN call in for the bullshit days, when I really can't muster up the bubble, you know? And yes. Attendance counts. Each absence stays on your record for a month, if you don't call in for a month, you get 1 absence off. So what's been happening with mine, you may ask. I got it down to 2 1/2 and then headache. Or cramps so bad I can't move. Or car fucked up, or broken toe or sick... It counts unless I go to the doctor (money I can't afford) and get a note and a 'return to work by' date..

And the stress...it weighs heavily.

It's all coming down to money, unfortunately. I keep hoping to win the jackpot (faithfully buying $5 in tickets every payday), and realize I won't, but I can hope to get it. I was going to take Monday & Tuesday off to go find a couch since I have to shop for it and arrange for delivery and all that... That's what I was denied. The reason? Oh, well, you have the weekends to go shopping.
I didn't ask for your validation of my reason. I asked for approval to not show up to work and get something done that needed done.

I'm just having a bad time of it. I'm under stress and not sleeping and not hungry for food, although I'll take junk food at any time, apparently. I"m poor and I hate my job and I want to have FUN and there isn't a whole lotta fun. I've just got a lot of people wanting to use me as a sounding board and nobody wants to hear me. "OOOh, I've got this new gaming group up even though you have no interest in this particular game, I'm going to wax poetic about it for your entire break!' Thin smile and no interest doesn't work. I'm going to have to be direct and blunt and I hate to be direct and blunt. I suck at it. I stammer and my face turns red and it's embarrassing-the blushing, not the tasks- to have your face go bright red at a moment's notice.

So. Stress. And no...just to forestall any helpful suggestions: A stress ball does NOT work for this. I'm gonna have to tough it out. But thanx for listening I appreciate it.

lost links...

2011-09-01T10:15:00.002-04:00

Guys, had to edit page & kill blogrolling. If you want a link, let me know and I'll be adding links back too...just have to find my addresses ;)

Something about Wednesday...

2011-08-25T09:38:00.000-04:00

Yes, Dear Reader, I know it's Thursday. It's actually 9:11 am on Thursday, and I've been up since 6:45. Awake since 6:38. Sitting here, in the quiet morning, it occurred to me that my worst insomnia days are Wednesdays. I took a muscle relaxant last night, threw a Mike's on top, and it still took me forever to be tired enough to fall asleep... I went to bed at 2:15 this morning, after waking up at 7:50 Wednesday morning. 4 1/2 hours of sleep.
I don't like this. I really don't like my insomnia and long for the days where I could sleep for 14 hours and then take a nap a few hours later. It makes me tired and grouchy and just colors the day ick.
I also realized I don't really eat on Wednesdays... We may have had pasta last Wednesday... We were planning on pasta last night. Then I got home, Sosu wasn't here, texted him-no, he wasn't going to be home, but he scrubbed the bathtub-and I decided I just wasn't hungry. Later, I had some popcorn with parmesan-no butter (Sosu had the last of it the other day. Payday is tomorrow. Grocery shopping is either Friday night or Saturday morning.) and just wasn't hungry. Then pasta last week, week before that I'm sure was something quick, dirty and just graze. Tracking my food made me realize my diet is still shit, but not for what I'm eating...it's how I'm eating. I don't, typically, get enough calories. I'm just not hungry.
I wonder if the 2 are related, the insomnia and not eating, but the superstitious side of me screams "It's because it's WEDNESDAY, you idiot!"
I always have vague feelings of doom Wednesday mornings. The old poem says Wednesday's child is full of woe. Slight problem...I was born on a Tuesday. That's a laugh. I am NOT graceful. But doom-y days of the week aside, Wednesdays are usually when bad things happen for me.
I've been having car trouble lately, Lance doesn't want (yes, I named 'it' 'Lance', thereby changing 'it' from sexless to male) to keep his alternator belt on without a whole lot of checking, fussing, tightening and cursing. I've also been late to Alternate Dimension 2x because of him. Monday I took a do-over. I just said 'Do Over'. Yesterday, I ended up working over to make up for it so it doesn't count.
Maybe it's stress. I don't really have huge amounts to be stressed over, though. We have food, there's a roof over our heads, we're making our bills. What worries?
Yes, I'm being sarcastic. Prices have gone sky high. Milk, just a couple years ago, was $2.58 a gallon. Now? $3.59. At it's cheapest. And yes...I do shop around. I have also started using coupons. And trying for discount gas on my shopper's card. The dryer went out, and the couch is almost unusable. Lance keeps freaking out here and there (and I *really* cannot afford a car payment. I have $20 in my checking account right now, and $10 on the table. That's it. Really REALLY cannot afford a car payment) and is just more cause for bits of stress and worry... Sic-un. He worries me. He hurts, I can do nothing about it, and it just...
I love him. I worry about him. Sosu. Worry about him. I worry about all the people I love, really. Kinda bites sometimes, but you suck it up and deal, right? And I know it's hard all over, most people are going paycheck to paycheck, and I say I'm lucky I have no house payment-rent means no property taxes, either- no car payment, I'm not in debt up to my eyeballs (I owe $240 on a credit card and I owe the hospital $150 for my ER visit last month), I have food, I can cook, I can get another job if I have to (don't particularly want to, because the job market does suck), but..I'm pretty lucky. I will acknowledge I have stress.

But still... I wonder... What the hell is it about Wednesday?

and lo! There was light....

2011-08-11T01:04:00.000-04:00

...you think? Nah. Don't like the sentence. Oh well.
Nothing new to report. Well, I have lost 23 pounds. that's not new, though. But 'struth... I will admit I did take the month of July off. But. August. Started again. I'm tired of the fat suit. Getting back in the swing of doing cardio every day.

Oh! I know. Our dryer broke, so now laundry has become a serious fucking pain in the ass. I usually don't mind laundry. I'll mind bits of it (like folding...I understand folding, but don't like to), but generally speaking, I don't dread doing laundry. Or at least, didn't pre-dryer loss. Post is another story. We've been alternating between running clothes to the laundromat to dry or hanging them to dry, depending on if I have towels to dry or not...Towels are the break point. No line to dry on, we're hanging them on hangers in the closet (which, if you remember, is the remaining 'spare room') and putting some use to the swingset. I hate hanger-dried clothes. They're stiff. There is no air moving through them, so they wind up stiff. And scratchy. It's better if we can hang them outside, but there's only 5 hooks set up I can use. And no replacement dryer until at LEAST September.
Money, as you're well aware, is tight. Sic-un's back has caused lack of work hours, which causes strain to the bimonthly money transfer... Work transfers it to my bank, I transfer it to the utilities, grocery store, gas stations and landlord.
I'm still not getting laid on a regular basis. I have, a couple times in the past...what? 6 weeks? Yeah. 6 weeks. 2x with J, 1x with Sosu... Over 6 weeks. And I'm with someone. That's what's baffling me.
Sic-un's back is still jacked up and still paining him on a regular basis, especially when stupid fucks at work (usually cunts, but they're all cunts if they hurt him) insist on doing things like pounding him on the back as a way of greeting??? Either that or they'll run into him even though the bosses have him basically off by himself... Work has been seriously hazardous to his health and it hurts his back and that affects response and desire. Sosu no longer has a girlfriend, and apparently is open for business again, but he didn't tell ME that...he left a note on Sic-un's computer one morning. He'll have to actually make the move for anything to happen (I started touching him, he said no, haven't touched him since. You tell me no, you'll have to make it abundantly clear the answer has changed to yes). And J... Ha. It is to laugh. His schedule at work is changing, meaning his gaming schedule changes as well. Sex isn't a real high priority for him. And now it's even more of a non-priority due to scheduling.

I will say I have met a really solid individual-it was actually on FB where I first encountered him, and then Sic-un and I just met him IRL on the 2nd. He lives in Bristol, VA, so we took the bike. Good ride. DGL shall be his designation. He's smart, funny, sweeter than dammit and wickedly spot-on. Why don't I take him to bed, you may ask. Well, Dear Reader, he lives in Bristol-about 3 hours away, and gas is expensive- and well.... He's paralyzed from the mid-chest down and there ain't much down from mid-chest. Yeah, he's an amputee. Left leg from hip down and right leg from about 4" down. He's also covered in ink, willing to let me use what bits of skin he has open as practice. He's an artist himself (gorgeous! artwork), a hobby horticulturist (he rattles off Latin taxonomy the way I rattle off ingredients), and just fuckin' smarter than fuck! He was paralyzed before he was an amputee, and is really an amputee because he was paralyzed. So. No real sex with him is possible. However, he's more than into oral as compensation, and I'm looking to shamelessly exploit that, but...
It's Bristol. It's 3 hours away. My car windows don't roll down. I have no A/C and hey...it's fuckin' hot out there. So it'll have to wait until fall.
And time ticks on.
So that's the past 6 weeks. No changes in anything except it's starting to kinda piss me off...I want to be independently wealthy so I can quit a job I'm not really enjoying (and haven't seriously enjoyed for a # of years) and start my projects.

One last thing.... I joined Google+ sometime in the near past. If y'all know my name, feel free to add.

So another post....

2011-06-24T00:12:00.000-04:00

about what? 3 weeks from the first? Just under? Something like?
I have to give pre-warning. I've been drinking.
And since Sosu made my last drink, I feel I may be fading fast....
But first, I felt the need to bitch.
Sosu made my drink, you say? Do I finally have a cabana boy?
Why, yes YES I DO...
And I'm not happy. not really.
I haven't gotten laid in weeks, which is criminal....
The boy moved in like, 3 weeks ago...NOTHING. Some mackin' on the couch and that's about it.
I've been resorting to the toys.
Sic-un? His back's been off because of the weather, but in good news, he now has insurance and only has to wait until January/February until it's not considered to be a pre-existing condition any more.
I've lost a grand total of like, 22 pounds. I think I look pretty damn good, or at least not weird any more. It got to where I felt like I had some kind of fat suit on. Couldn't take it. Couldn't take the jiggle. And I have gotten comments---Usually from women, although J2 said I looked good the other day and a random stranger said I was working the jeans when I stopped at the smoke shop a few weeks ago---But from my partner, from my fuck-buddies?
J may come up the weekend of the 4th. MAY. Gaming is more important. Sic-un has his back---which is causing a serious lack of turn-on... And Sosu is working on a fat chick. Yeah, a fat chick. My luck.
I pick fuckin' chubby chasers and decide to lose fuckin' weight.
I'm feeling really down right now and could really use someone else, someone other than Ms. Hand...even if she is wearing a glove so I get some 'strange'.
I feel like I'm whining and don't particularly want to, but can't seem to help myself.
What the fuck good am I if I can't even get fucked by my fucking partner or either EITHER!!!! of my 2 FWB's??? What the fuck???

Damn...June already.

2011-06-05T16:27:00.000-04:00

It's June. Already. Half the year heading to the great past. I'm up to 20 pounds gone, and I now have some visible muscle going on. It's nice to start seeing the curve of a bicep instead of the bulge of a fat arm. And my endurance level is up. The AD is same-same. We've been attempting to be social lately, and I've been giving my cooking skills great workouts. Fresh buttermilk pancakes were the latest triumph, but they were on the heels of (drum roll) homemade, real, fresh, German Chocolate Cake and (fanfare) BREAD.
Yes, Dear Reader, I baked bread. I broke my bread barrier. Wheat and white were conquered. I'm going to try keeping it up. Cinnamon rolls may be next (whole wheat cinnamon rolls, actually).

I've been thinking a lot lately about my worldview and how I see everything. I think I've mentioned before about how I think everyone on the planet is the center of their own personal universe. Your friends are not my friends, my friends are not yours, so on and so forth. My universe is connected, even peripherally, to all these other universes around it. Sic-un's is rightthere, so is Sosu and J's, closer than most. Mako's right there... I picture successions of Venn diagrams when I try to visualize it. So rather than call it the 'universe', why not call it the multiverse? I take it a bit further, and view people in terms of how they come into my personal section. As I said, your friends aren't mine, your life=/= my life...It's how it is. It's why everyone has an opinion, it's part of how we're each individuals seemingly struggling for the same goal (but we're not...your goals do not equal my goals, after all).
J2 just found TRex, and that's kinda what touched all this off... Their relationship is going much the way Sic-un's and my relationship has. One day, there appears to be no hope for True Love on the horizon and then the next day, there's a couple. TRex is now in my circle. She is under my protection. She's mine. I started really noticing how easily I slotted her in directly next to J2 and she touches me that way. She's mine.
Sosu is mine too. He was up this weekend and we were going to work on his cross on his leg. That kindof fell through-his nutrition is shit and his hydration was shit and his skin just didn't want it-we'll try again soon. I found myself, all this weekend, apologizing for caring about him. He's only 18 and I don't want him to think I'm in love with him, but I love him. I care about him, you know? He's mine. His circle is rightthere too. I claim him. J, same thing. I claim him. He's mine. Care about him? Yes, yes I do. Grasshopper, she's right there, and she's claimed.
But I found myself apologizing to Sosu for worrying about him. He looks like he's lost some weight that he can little enough afford, and he's very tired. I tried to get it out to him, but I'm so very afraid I'll say it badly and he'll either get spooked or he'll take it the wrong way and think I'm in love with him, you know?
I do love him, though. I think the human capacity for love is constricted by societal mores and morals, none of which apply very much to me. I can honestly say I love a tremendous amount of people, each in their own unique way. Sosu... I love him. I love his mind, his heart, his loyalty. He has more loyalty than a cocker spaniel. And he just gets kicked and kicked and kicked. I don't want to kick him, I want to soothe him. I love him unconditionally, no strings, just him for who he is, but... He's 18. And you can't tell an 18 year old you love them, not when you're 41 and his father is your partner... He'll either take it as if I'm in love with him (and I'm not) or as if I want him to 'cleve only unto me', which isn't the case at all. I consider him a 'boyfriend', because he's more than a 'friend with benefits', but the no strings becomes key for that. I don't think of 'boyfriend' the way other people do. But he is my boyfriend, and I do love him and found myself apologizing incessantly this weekend.

That's the latest figuring on my multiverse theory.

Came across this....

2011-05-12T00:05:00.000-04:00

...and it was too cool, so I had to share.

And update! Current weight loss=16 pounds. My arms are thinning...and the size 16 pants I *just* bought not 3 months ago? Um, yeah, I need to look at potentially taking them in.
Sic-un's birthday is at the end of the month and I have a 4 day weekend to spend with him...and a party at my house! I'll see if I can remain sober enough to be my charming self ;)
And I have made DECENT WHEAT BREAD! I have the white bread experiment in the pan on its final rise right now. I have good thoughts and high hopes about the white. We'll see in about 1 hour, though.
AAAANNnnnnd.... K at work let me ink her incredibly responsive skin. Sparrow on the leg-outline is done. And Sosu...He's been inked. Stained glass cross covering the stupid gang symbol he got on his leg. Why? "My friend said it would be cool."
SIGH. Oh well. At least he gets a decent coverup.

Roll call!

2011-05-02T00:54:00.000-04:00

Now that comments is fixed....
"Sound off like you gotta pair!"
There. I channeled my inner Ermy.
Even Anon. I'd like to know how many still read.
There's Sic-un (uhhuh!), TechReader checked in, Anonymous1 checked in...
Who else?
Hearts and love....Or hatred and bile...I aim to please :D

From Blogger:

2011-04-30T07:27:00.000-04:00

"Some users are reporting bX errors when attempting to post comments. Our team is investigating the issue and will follow-up here as soon as we have more information."

Sorry for the roll call, in that case. That's why there's a test message in the comments from me. Sic-un read and couldn't post a comment! Kept whipping him to login to google.
So that's what's going on.

Good evening! Or, 8 Talking Points

2011-04-28T01:09:00.000-04:00

...and I say Good Evening because it IS still evening. 11:38 by this little clock in the corner. When I notice it as 12...something, I'll say Good Morning. That way, you'll know how long it takes me write and exactly how verbose I can be. I'll also be referencing 1 or 2 back posts here, just to bring you all (3? or are we down to 2?) up to speed.

First... I'd like to request a rollcall. Who's still reading? Even an 'Anon' comment will be welcome.

2. Yes, I've been 4channed. Blame it on Sic-un. He started back on /b/ and got me into /b/ (until he got the 2nd ban laid upon our widdle heads), then I turned to /ck/ and then, finally, to /fit/.
Why?
Well, back here, I posted I thought I had 1 good chance to right the wrongs I've done to my body. That still holds true. As a matter of fact, (ahem)
(drumroll?)

3. I have lost 13 pounds.
(thank you)
At least, when I'm not PMSing. I've been doing cardio (one of the Gazelles, and before you kick me for doing it, it's not a treadmill, you can do SOME different movements on it and I can do a partial squat to work the quads), stepping it up gradually, and on Tuesday last I started up Convict Conditioning, which really is a series of bodyweight lifts designed to work on form. The conditioning gradually makes itself harder, not only changing the form of the exercises but also the length and the duration. For instance, if you start out the pushups by doing wall pushups, it moves you through 1x10 reps to 3x50, and eventually through the various forms until you're doing 1 handed pushups. Here... See??

....and there's a WHOLE SERIES of these-pushups, pullups (wall pullups, then move to bar), squats, jacknife pikes, bridges... Even a headstand so you can get to handstand pushups and walkovers. So I've been doing that. And I bought a dumbbell set. And NO. It's not the girly pink little handweights sold to soccer moms. It's bars and clips and separate plates. True dumbbells. I'm driving Sic-un crazy with running out of the shower practically every morning "SEE??? I HAVE A BICEP!" "LOOK! QUAD COMING OUT!" "FEEL MY HAMSTRINGS!!!!"
And
(can we get another drumroll???)
4. I've cut out almost all the brown fizzy liquids I drank by the gallon. Well, almost by the gallon. It SEEMED like a gallon. Eight 12 ounce cans of Jones in a day, some days. On the weekends, especially. I will say I do still drink somewhere between a partial and 1 full soda most days at work. However, the full soda days are becoming few and far between. I've been trying Gatorade as a stop-gap. Water just gets so... blah? And don't tell me 'Put a flavor pouch in it!'... They all have aspartame which gives me raging headaches. And any of the vitamin waters are nutritional nightmares. So I've been limiting my sodas to (average) fewer than 1 per day, my water drinking has gone up astronomically and I've been filling the rest in with juices and iced tea.

5. I've dropped a size in my jeans... Did I mention that?...hmmmm.... NO! You didn't hear about my whirlwind shopping venture. I took Sosu with me and I think I kinda scared him. I literally walked through the aisles picking things seemingly at random in a hurry (almost at a dead run) through the stores. It wasn't random. I got a full new wardrobe of GREAT clothes (and went back and picked up the pair of slides and another pair of trousers for work) and I HAVE dropped a size in my jeans. So I picked up a few pair. I've been sticking pretty much with 2 of the 4 I bought because...well, the other 2 pair are just a TAD snug (shows what happens when you assume a size), but I'm looking at it as "I don't have to go jeans shopping again WHEN I drop another size".

Hey... It's 12:06. Good morning!

6. The wild sex life isn't. As soon as I post that I really dig having 2 boyfriends plus a partner, guess who suddenly stops having sex? Yeah... No fault of anyone's, I don't think. Sic-un keeps tweaking out his back or it's the weather or we're just tired from work. And J hasn't been over in FOREVER. You can insert a scowly face here, Dear Reader. Sosu's been busy avoiding his homelife so he's been trying to stay with friends down in his town so he can still hit school....
Can't say I blame him for the homelife avoidance. His mom has pretty much turned on him mainly because he is saying "I'm 18. I'm growing up. Please do not expect me to be the good little yes man." Only it's not quite in that manner. And I don't think his sister is helping matters any. She seems to have become quite a tattletale. Sic-un's ex wife tells Daughter to call Sic-un and report on any of Sosu's bad behavior. "He stayed out all night and said he was at your house!", things like that... I don't think Sosu quite realizes this CAN BE a safe haven, and for most infractions of any of these 'rules' he's under (from his mother), the most his Dad will do of any 'punishment' is lecture. Like last week... He called, asked if he could spend the night. "Sure." He came in, sat for about 3 minutes, then went and passed out in his room. Fine. Great. I told Sic-un "Watch, he went to a friend's house, was going to spend the night, ingested SOMETHING and now doesn't want to go home to his Mom's because she'll go ballistic." Which is what happened. His friend said "Here, have a drink!" and then when they had been drinking said "Uh, can't spend the night, kicking you out!".... Sosu was offended, which I'm proud of him for. That's a shitty thing to do to a friend, right? No lecture, a little worry.
Stuff like that. So I completely understand why he hasn't been around. He's 18. But the sex life suffers. Part of me minds, but part of me doesn't. And I don't mind because I am trying to get healthier. And I still jiggle.

7. The reason I've gone on this big healthy kick and trying to get fit and all is because those pictures I took of myself on my birthday-no, you haven't seen them. Nobody is gonna see them until I have some muscles to show and get rid of this fucking gut of mine!-...Those pictures scared me. I was looking at my grandmother's body....

When I was 13 or so, my uncle got married and we went over for the wedding. I watched my grandmother get dressed for the rehearsal dinner, like girls do when they're young and not invited to an evening function. You sit, usually on the end of the bed or perched on the cedar chest and watch as the older woman gets ready, taking note of the process, knowing some day you'll do the same thing, perhaps for your daughter, a niece, a granddaughter: how to check pantyhose for runs, pull out the slip, make sure everything is pressed and tidy and clean and perfect and you touch the silver hairbrush set that's on the dresser, and look at the old pictures of relatives long passed as the woman going out for the evening looks in the mirror and makes sure the lipstick hasn't bled or smeared, one last pat to their hair. You've watched them get dressed and you've seen their body and you wonder if yours will be the same.

In my grandmother's case, she had a great set of legs. TERRIFIC legs. Gramma had gams. Not long legs, but terrific legs. She was short, under 5'. And she was a large woman, but very graceful, very light on her feet. I always thought it was horrifying that having 10 kids (later found out she had 17 frigging pregnancies or something like) so thoroughly destroyed her body. She had a spherical torso, but these great legs. Very thick, very wide, very round. Round body, great legs. And I think that's how grandmothers should look, really. I don't like the idea of a grandmother being a glamorous older lady who still dresses as if she were 16. I DO like the idea of a grandmother who smiles, is full of hugs and LOOKS like they make a mean cookie. And she did. And that's all fine and dandy when you're talking about a 65 year old who IS a grandmother... It's not so fine when your're talking about a 41 year old who IS NOT EVEN a mother. That woman looks at a picture of herself and flashes back immediately to the wedding in 1983 when she watched her grandmother get ready for the rehearsal dinner.
I got scared.
I'm only 41. I shouldn't look like that. I shouldn't BE like that.
So I decided to change. I'd like to be rid of the round by Xmas. I've already started redeveloping my waist (I HAVE A WAIST!!!). Everything else will follow in due time. And by Xmas should be good.

So that's what I've been up to and doing. Just work and working out and trying to not go crazy insane with PMS and keep my protein levels up and hoping things will maybe be a bit better, soon.

Surprise recipe! Darkneuro's Brotein Cherry Shake (yes, it contains protein powder...it's my post workout or not so bad for you shake when you want something sweetish)
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 to 1 cup milk/almond milk/soymilk
1/4 to 1/2 cup frozen dark cherries (I use Kroger's Private Selection...they're yummy!)
1 scoop vanilla protein powder (I use Jay Robb whey protein-it's not bad. Still kinda...chemical? But not bad.)
Sweetener of your choice to taste (I've used sugar and some stevia... both work well. Honey is a bit of a different flavor)
Blend it all up with some ice for texture. Brotein shake :)
G'night my loves. Roll call, remember. I'd like to know if anyone still pops in.

Tsunami...

2011-03-15T00:47:00.000-04:00

I've felt like just weeping for Japan since Friday. Such devastation. And then add in the nuke threat and it just... It's a damn cryin' shame. I know there's people out there cheering because it means Japan now needs US assist (well, actually, they're getting assist more from Russia at this point) and it could mean, somehow and some way, more money for the US pocketbook...somehow. I don't understand the logic they use, I really don't.
What I see is a country, a beautiful and ancient country, devastated by the Earth.
I'm reminded of Ellison, his short-short, Ecoawareness, in which the Earth wakes up.
So I weep for Japan and I hope for the best. I'm expecting the worst, but I'm hoping, hoping for the best. I expect to be pleasantly surprised this time.

Hello, 41!

2011-02-27T19:22:00.000-05:00

I turned 41 last week. Last Thursday. And today is the last day of a 4 day weekend, to boot. Some good things happened. Some bad things happened. I had quite a few dirty thoughts...didn't act on a single one of them, more's the pity. That's OK though.

I used to view birthdays with trepidation. Not at the thought of growing older, since the body grows old, but the mind doesn't, the ideas don't, so it's not the 'age' thing that bothers me. Some of the age-isms bother me. Some so-called 'milestone' birthdays are meant to be enjoyable and/or feared. The first birthday, the 10th (double digits!), 16th, 18th, 21st. Those are all supposed to be enjoyable. The others, the decades or the '9' birthdays are supposed to be feared. They've even got black candles and armbands and you're supposed to throw a party to celebrate the death of your youth or some such garbage. I've never found the 9s or the decades particularly fearsome, personally. No, I used to view birthdays with trepidation because it always came down to 'Will anyone notice or even care?'

My mother actually forgot my birthday one year. She thought it was still a week away, and I suppose it could be blamed on not looking carefully at the calendar. But I never had birthday parties growing up. The neighborhood kids came over for my 1st birthday (I've seen pictures). And growing up in Albuquerque, the neighbors came over for the obligatory cake and icecream. I'd go to parties, but wouldn't have them. And eventually, the question of whether or not anyone noticed became a moot thing.

Since I'm the center of my own universe, I noticed and that was what mattered. I started requesting the day off work, since I really didn't want to work on my birthday. When I was dating Idiot, we'd go out to eat on my birthday, and I'd end up paying*. Eventually, I started buying myself gifts or taking myself to lunch or dinner. Henry Rollins tickets became a big birthday purchase for me. Once with Idiot and once on my birthday by myself, then once here with Sic-un. Sic-un and I went to the circus, too. I took Toaster to dinner on my birthday before I left Albuquerque. It was a good dinner.

This year, I took the day off work. Didn't sleep in, no, not this insomniac. I was up at 8:15 or so. Sent Sic-un off to work. Lazed about, went to the store, made a Meyer lemon meringue pie. Yes, lemon meringue pie. It's become my own little tradition. I don't like birthday cake. Cake and ice cream together has always been a bit of a 'meh'. The frosting is always suspect, and ice cream is what it is. Neither ends up being very good. So I started making lemon meringue. This time it was Meyer lemons. I'm thrilled the local grocery is carrying them. And it's for the same price as their loose lemons.

The meringue came out as the thickest, foamiest, firmest I've ever made. I really like the way it turned out. I stuck my finger in it to check texture and it was like touching shaving cream. That thick, rich, pure foam consistency. I also boiled the lemon filling longer than the single minute all the recipes call for. I must have gone 3 or 4 minutes boiling. It's not that it hurt it or anything (constant stirring, good heat management), but I will say the pie is NOT weepy at all. There's a definite difference in the filling. All I can do is point at the boil time and remember it for next time (thicker filling=longer boil time)

Once the pie was out of the oven, then it was into the shower to get ready for dinner. Sic-un took me to Big Ed's for pizza. 2 small pizzas, pitcher of Amber Bock. Got a parking space right out front, too, which NEVER happens. Sic-un told the waitress it was my birthday. They don't sing to you (thank the GODS OF SINGING!)... They give you a t-shirt instead. We came home. Friday, Sic-un had the day off. We ended up cleaning a lot of stuff. The weather has thrown Sic-un's back for a loop again. The bathroom ceiling is no longer brown! The house smells good! Looks good! CLEAN!

Why the cleaning jag?
(ahem)
We had a cookout. Saturday. Yesterday. Yes. Yesterday. Invited friends over. We had people over for dinner. Yeah. We had a cookout. If you want, consider it one of Hyacinth's candlelight suppers without candles and a cookout instead. J2-who's not as free-range as he may think, Grasshopper, J, someone new from work-Let's call her Harmony, my Japanese shark. Burgers! Potato salad! We'll provide beer, vodka, sweet tea, juices and lemonade. BYOB if you want something diff.

I was hoping Harmony would show up. She's... She's Harmony. One of the few women I would give my eyeteeth to go to bed with. She's HAWT. She didn't. J2 showed up...with his ex in tow. He calls her his ex, they are no longer living together, he wants Grasshopper... His ex is SCARY. She's seriously mental. And she doesn't think they're so very broken up. Grasshopper showed up. We had burgers.

I was drunk.

Seriously, totally wasted drunk. On not very much, actually. I started drinking around 4. Had a vodka lemonade. Had vodka lemonade #2 starting about 5ish. Was plastered by the end of the drink, which was somewhere around 6. Seriously plastered.
And here's how fucking mental J2's ex is.
I was sitting at the coffee table eating pie-it was delicious, and trying very hard to concentrate on the pie. I was drunk, recognized I was drunk, and I wanted pie. My head got hot, I started deep breathing (not nauseous. NOT NAUSEOUS, really. just hot-head), put my head down on the table (it was cool).
J2's ex started talking about getting sick and being sick and throwing up. Even after being told to stop.
Needless to say: I spent the rest of the party in the bathroom puking out that loverly hamburger and what pie I had managed to swallow.
I think she did it because she enjoyed it.

Now. Onto my presents to myself. I did myself a huge favor on Thursday and took 3 pictures of myself. All fully nude, one each forward, side and back shots. As a result, Tai chi starts next Saturday. And I may be getting a gym membership. I'm certainly going to be eating better (more veggies, less soda, more evenly spaced meals rather than 1 meal a day). I have done myself a great disservice and mean to rectify it. I think I have one more chance to see what I can do. I'm giving myself a year. With regular check-ins to make sure my body is doing what I want it to. At the end of a year, I promise I'll post the starting photos and the results.

And once I get relatively thinned out, I'm going to jump J2. Not as a boyfriend, but as just a guy I wanna fuck. And I'm gonna see about getting Harmony nekkid, too. I wanna see what I can do to make her scream.

Onto the age-isms next.
NO, I'm not on my 12th anniversary of being 29. I'm 41. FORTY ONE. I don't feel bad. I'm obese, but that's my own damn fault. I do not need nor want wrinkle cream, a face lift or liposuction***. I do dye my hair, but that's because the grey I do have makes it look dirty even when it's freshly washed. I am not pining for my lost youth, and quite frankly, from 25 to 35 was spent in my own little depressive hell. I wouldn't go back to that time FOR ALL THE MONEY IN THE NATIONAL TREASURY. I'm smarter now than I used to be. I don't want or need your stupid cholesterol medication**. I don't have kids, so I'm not looking at them graduating school. I don't have grandkids, so I don't have to babysit. My bowels are regular and my laundry is doing fine. I don't want OR need your stupid marketing. And if someone tells me I'm one day closer to dying...YES! So are you, dear sir and/or madam!

Life is fatal. The act of being born means you will die. The shell gets old, but the mind doesn't. I'm having more unadulterated FUN now than I have before in my life. I have a wonderful, loving partner that I plan on spending the rest of my life with. I have 2 (count 'em!) boyfriends I care deeply about. I have a bestie, and I have GOOD friends. I'm happy and horny and relatively healthy- in spite of the obesity: my blood pressure is fine, I'm not diabetic, and I haven't had a heart attack. The aches and pains aren't debilitating, and I'm looking at getting better.

I think this is going to be a good year.

*His excuse was that I made more money than he did, so he'd drive to the restaurant, I could pay for the meal. He would suggest renting a movie and we'd end up doing nothing but sitting on the couch all night. NOT the most exciting of times, but I was locked into a depression. I had no clue. And nobody pointed out the wrongness of this.
**I actually heard a commercial for one of the 'statin' drugs that doctors are handing out like candy and I paid attention. They said in their little disclaimers that it HELPS you keep your cholesterol down when diet and exercise aren't enough. They, of course, mean when you don't watch your diet and you don't really exercise. I say this because if I'm exercising the way I'm supposed to and I'm eating the healthiest I can eat, I won't NEED your stupid medication.
***Liposuction: "Let me cut into you and suck out fat and blood vessels." Everyone I've ever seen who has had liposuction OR who has had the belly band INSTEAD of losing the weight naturally looks like a weird bobblehead.

LIIT at a birthday...

2011-02-20T23:37:00.000-05:00

J2 (the newly free-range J2) had a birthday this weekend. A bunch went to the Urban Bar & Corner Cafe in Knoxpatch. I was invited (!), as was Sic-un. It always surprises me when people want to Hang Out. One of the bunch is a new friend...Let's call her Grasshopper. She is rather like a grasshopper, bouncy and smart. She is a smidge naive, and just got out of a rather toxic relationship, same as J2. J2 wants the Grasshopper. Grasshopper (rightly so, IMO) has put the kybosh on any relationship status change right now. She wants to enjoy being single. She wants to get some ya-yas in. I can SO understand this, and applaud her for saying 'I want!'. Apparently, the douche she just broke up with went so far as to tell her she couldn't buy a dildo...After all, wouldn't she just prefer the dildo to him? He is a douche and she is better off. And I'm glad I know her. She's fun!
So who are these people?
I went with J2 and J-they're roommates. You know J... J of the pretty dick? One of the boyfriends. And that's how I'm referring to the people that I sleep with outside of my relationship with Sic-un, who is my Partner. Sos-u is a boyfriend. J is a boyfriend.
So we 3 went to pick up Grasshopper. J was the designated driver, J2 was planning on getting drunk as was Grasshopper. I was planning on Going Out, like normal people do. I tend to get very insular and be a home-body. Hence the surprise when people want to Hang Out. Dressed up.
Yes...I dressed up.
Black knee boots, leggings, pullover long-sleeve teal shirt, black cardigan... I looked good. Hair.. Um, I recently cut my hair. It's back to being short. And apparently I did a really good job. People keep complimenting me on it, so I think it looks ok. I did notice a ton of grey in it when I was cutting it, so I did a color to it. Still dark honey blond (well, maybe a medium honey blond), but no longer grey through it.
And makeup. Hair was spiked up.
So I looked good, and Sic-un had given me carte blanche for the evening. Didn't do a whole hell of a lot of good, since my period was this weekend (but it means it's NOT going to be here NEXT* weekend!), but I flirted and had a good time. People seem to like me and it always stuns me. It really does. I smoked way too much and drank 7 Long Island Ice Teas (LIIT). I have also vowed to never again wear high heels while drunk.
Why? You ask.....
You would ask, Dear Reader.
When I drink, my knees have a tendency to lose functionality on stairs.
Mostly on stairs.
And there are a lot of stairs at Urban.
So my knees are bruised and scraped.
And, sad to say, somewhere along the line, my right toe was dislocated.
See?--->
I think I have it snicked back into place, and I have it taped up and I'm going to be wearing hard-soled clogs for the next few days (stiff soles. Works wonders). It hurts, but...
I had a good time. I hope to continue being social.

Now. NEXT weekend...
Thursday I turn 41 by the calendar. I'll still be about 8 in my head, but the calendar says I'm going to be 41. I'm planning on making a lemon meringue pie and that's it. That's all I have planned, except for hitting Big Ed's Pizza for dinner-you get a free tshirt on your birthday. I don't have to work, nor on Friday, and Sic-un is taking Friday off. We're both off Saturday and Sunday.
Saturday morning, the local Tai Chi Society is holding an Open House. And! And!
They have a class starting on March 5 that I can actually attend! At hours that aren't too horrendous! It's the reason why I haven't taken a Tai Chi class before. I was thrilled to learn the Tai Chi Center is right there when I moved to this loverly little town. However, all the class times for Beginner were at times when I was at work. Why Tai Chi? With the change of the calendar comes the realization that I have one more chance to get somewhat mobile. I say one more chance because I have started noting stupid little aches and pains that just weren't there before. I can't help but think a good stretch will help wonders. Some activity. And Tai Chi is supposed to be absolutely wonderful for balance and flexibility. Sic-un is going with me, at least to the open house, and he's remaining open minded about the class.
I'm not hoping for a miracle cure for his back, but I'm hoping for some pain easing for him.

Sos-u.Worth the wait. Definitely worth the wait. Definitely. Stunning kisser, good hands. He's cuddly. Puppy-pile this weekend. I drunk-texted him from the bar, he said he'd be asleep on the couch. Ended up puppy-piling. He's cuddly.

And what do I call him? Friends with benefits doesn't quite fit the situation, with him being my partner's son. Hence the realization last night that I have a Partner and I have 2 Boyfriends. I like my life right now. I'm having fun, my mind is engaged, I'm looking good, and I'm taking steps to get even better.
I'm looking forward to the next year, see what it will bring.

Egads...

2011-02-01T01:20:00.000-05:00

First PMS, then the 'flu.

You heard me. The 'flu. YES, I went to the doctor (well, nurse practitioner) and was told I had the 'flu. I also had 4 of 5 days off last week, only 3 of them due to the flu. Last week in general sucked sewer water, frankly. Let me share...

Monday was a requested day off (yay!), then I went in Tuesday. Sic-un drove in with me since it was raining and generally pissy outside and his back was acting up and he wasn't feeling well, didn't think he was sick, but he didn't feel good. He had started out throwing up, but thought it was under control. We drove into work in Little Blue. Well, Sic-un made it a 1/2 day at work, then took my car home. On the way, he had to stop at a store. In the store parking lot, one of my shifter cables decided to give way.

Yes, the shifter cable. One of the 2 attached to the shifter, I should say. He got the car home, then had to come out and pick me up on the bike. Sick. In the rain. While telling me my car was broke. How pissed was I, you may ask. Well, I snapped at J, snapped at J2 as well (ooooh! J2 and gf are kaput. He's free range. Shall I add him to the stable or attempt to? Discuss.). Rode home. Can't really holler at Sic-un. He was sick. Thank the fates the GBN (Good-ol' Boy Network) is alive and well here in the South. Sic-un had already called Jessie and said "Um, Jessie? HELP!"

Wednesday: Sic-un decided Tuesday night he was too sick to be at work Wednesday. I was OK, I thought, arranged for a ride, whatnot. I was getting ready to go and just.... Have you ever suddenly lost any and all energy, started shaking and feeling weak and feverish and just ill all at once? That's the first time for me. I called my ride (my beautiful Japanese shark!), begged off. Called in. Wednesday and Thursday kinda blurred. I napped, some. I tried to eat, some. Didn't work too good. Fever ranged from 96 to 101. No cough, some nausea and hellish body aches. Sic-un? Nausea, head swimming. Didn't go in. Couldn't, really. I'd get up and start moving and then just... Everything would suddenly run down, almost like watching a wind-up toy stop.

Friday was payday. And tax day, actually. Ended up getting $1098, $300 of which is set aside just for ConMan's Xmas this year (planning ahead!). Plus a paycheck. So I had $$ for the clinic. Sic-un went to his after dropping me off at mine (joys of insurance).
Marci, the nurse practitioner at Clinic, remembered me from my last illness. My blood pressure was STELLAR!!! Temp ok at the time, no congestion...'What are your symptoms?'. I did the laundry list. Apparently, I'm doing everything correctly, I just had an official diagnosis of Influenza.
Sic-un didn't have the 'flu. He had the 'Stomach Virus' that's being passed around the Alternate Dimension. No fever? No flu.
SO. Out of work 3 days, get to the weekend, and we start (START!) feeling better.

Saturday, I made tapioca and lemon cake. The lemon cake was defaulted because the store still had Meyer lemons, which I had bought more of after already making one cake, and then they started turning. Had to be used or frozen. So. Used. Lemon cake. Cake-y goodness.

The cake is not a lie.
I'm looking right at it. Loaf cake, Ina Garten's Lemon Cakes recipe. YUM cake.
I made tapioca because I love tapioca and it's becoming my comfort food of choice.
Sunday, Jessie came and looked at Little Blue, provided diagnosis.

I went into work today, felt a bit lost after being out for so long. The guy that sits down the aisle from me? Inspector Gadget? (no...seriously. He looks JUST LIKE Inspector Gadget. The real one, not the live action) He asked me, like, 5 times if I was feeling better. SIGH. And then I was offered about 45 minutes early out. I took it, you bet your bippy I took it. It means I sat for a bit while Sic-un finished up...He's back on his usual schedule, matching mine, which is convenient. And the car is still not fixed.

Why, you may ask... Well, the part is down in Knox proper, at the Hyundai dealer. $202.xx new. Now, I *could* go to the UPullIt and get a used cable for the vehicle for $15 or $16. For a SHIFTER cable. In a place that gets rain and snow and weather and they use salt on the road and corrosion happens.... That's like saying you're going to buy a used condom. It just doesn't make sense. So we placed it on hold and Sic-un is picking it up Friday after he drops me at work. Then he calls Jessie and gets guided on how to fix it either Friday or Saturday. I'm also going to see if maybe my timing belt can get replaced at the same time. It's got 79K on it. Needs it.

SO. No car. Riding the bike. Was just sick. Have to dress up for work this ENTIRE WEEK (well, except for Friday. Casual Friday), which means real slacks instead of jeans. Jeans are much better on the bike, thicker. BUT!
I am a good prairie dog in the cube farm. So I will wear my slacks, and look forward to....

Boots. How was that for a segue? BOOTS. I have ordered 2 pairs of boots, waiting with anticipation for sometime Friday when they should be delivered. I have a black pair (rather piratical if I do say so myself) and a red pair on the way. Yes, red. I'm such a hussy. And they're both heels. I can't wait. I love wearing heels now. Couldn't, for so very long, and now I can. Sic-un LIKES it when I wear heels...
Baby needs a new pair of shoes....
And hopefully, I'll still have some scratch left to go on the hunt for clothes with my Shark... She'll tell me the truth if something looks bad. I should have $ left. I left $700 in the standard account to play with, $200 now gone for the cables (gotta buy 2 because they're ONLY as an assembly), should leave me $500, now $100 gone on boots.
yeah, $100 with both pairs and tax and shipping. But still. Boots. And I measured my gargantuan calves, so they should fit really really nice. The black ones, that is. They've got a max circum. of 19 inches on the shaft, and mine, at its widest point, is 16 1/2. Add in a couple inches for ease and
They should fit.
Here's to boots and Little Blue. I want him on the road again. But that still leaves $400 or so, and another paycheck between now and shopping, I think...no. One right after? Sometime like. Oh well. I need new clothes. I'm fully justified in purchasing new shoes and clothes. Shoes are an ongoing issue-my newest pair before my red mary janes in November were my high clogs and they were 2 years ago, then... Tennies before that, before I left NM, and that was right after I bought the wedge penny loafers. SO. Out of the last 4 pairs I've bought, 1/2 of them were before I moved here to East TN. And I JUST started wearing the high clogs I had purchased about 10 years ago, BEFORE, when I was still living with Idiot and still worried about how large I'd appear next to his diminutive height....Gads! I'm glad I really do like tall men and he was just an aberration!

note to self-buy condoms.out of condoms, need to buy condoms....Sosu is now 18....Hm. And 6'2"... I'll post pictures from this weekend. Yes... (evil grin) He's now 18. I can post his picture (insert smile here)

Pardon My Suckerpunch...

2011-01-19T02:00:00.000-05:00

...I feel an episode of nastiness coming on. Now, now... Don't all you loverly pervy people get your panties into a twist thinking of me being nasty. Not in the good way.

In the 'I'm could potentially be called crazy and will probably piss a lot of people off' kind of way. Take the above initials, please.
TAKE THEM.

No, please. I don't want them any more. Been trying to figure how to get rid of them for years. The answer always becomes the same thing. "Take this wonder (pill, tea, herbal supplement, lotion)!" Then you get side effects. And it's never quite right. You're always zombified. And yeah, I could take The Pill, I suppose, but..(stolen from Wikipedia, of course).

Combined oral contraceptives may influence coagulation, increasing the risk of deep venous thrombosis (DVT) and pulmonary embolism, stroke and myocardial infarction (heart attack). Combined oral contraceptives are generally accepted to be contraindicated in women with pre-existing cardiovascular disease, in women who have a familial tendency to form blood clots (such as familial factor V Leiden), women with severe obesity and/or hypercholesterolemia (high cholesterol level), and in smokers over age 40.

Something just seems a little too... It hits home too closely. Severe obesity? No....according to the BMI, moderate. Smoker, though. And 40+, and yeah...my familial roots are littered with broken hearts and busted brains. Not a really good candidate to take the one thing that would probably make my PMS a lot easier to deal with.

I think what bothers me is that I can feel it coming on, and have to actively work to keep my mouth from running away with me. I'm having to actively remove myself from the presence of people whom might annoy me... Just in case I have an episode. I kinda forewarned Sic-un this morning. If I actively stay on guard for it, then I can at least say I tried really hard to not be an utter cunt to the entire planet.

And not the Good Kind, either. Bitchy comments pour forth, and once it starts, it just keeps going and going and going... It's worse than the bunny, I tell you. Sex doesn't particularly help, either. If anything, it ends up pissing me off...My body's reactions piss me off. The risk of leg cramps during PMS rises, and I haven't figured that one out... Unless it's all just hormone related and fucked until menopause...
Although it's getting worse as I get older.
Yes, I could go see a doctor. What's the doctor going to say? "Oh, you have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Here. Take the pil...oh wait. You can't. Here. Take this anti-depressant. It'll make it all better." Or worse: "I'm sorry, you're all fucked up down there, we'll have to take the whole works and you better hope like hell you don't die." As I see it, the only thing that can be done about PMS is just quit whining and try and work within the boundaries it gives you.

It's just PMS. I can do this.
Pardon my lip if I get snippy.

Ohmy. Well, Happy New Year to you too!

2011-01-09T13:04:00.000-05:00

Good morning!
I've had 3 hours sleep and I feel SPLENDID!
I was laid last night. Fucked. Messed up.
And due to the alcohol involved on their part(s), I'm the only one who came.

Oh, that's ni-
Wait. What?

J came up. LIIT* premixed in a ginormous bottle. I had been drinking already. I was cooking.
Pork chops.
Brined pork chops, braised with gravy, served with mashed and gravy and salad.
Gravy was good.
J has been saying for WEEKS (really!) he'll be coming up. He hasn't been up.
Let's rewind, shall we? J's ex spouse had a bun in the oven and it was indeterminate if it was J's baby or belonged to this other guy. Divorce waited until bun in oven was done so DNA tests could say whose it was. Make it a part of the divorce and all that, you know? "We have a paternity question, let's separate and see what we get on DNA, that way the divorce can have custody determination as well", basically. Child was born, paternity determined...
Not J's. But J has an incredibly busy life, working until 1 a.m., D&D and friends and well, a life.
So when he says "I'm planning on coming up this weekend", it's always with the unspoken "Unless" attached to it. D&D trumps hanging out, I'm told. I'm cool with this, but it means every statement of 'I'm coming up this weekend' is a 'wait and see, but don't hold your breath' type thing...When there has been a day off of D&D, a game always gets started by others in the group, you see. D&D trumps.

So when J called, he was invited to dinner.
Brined pork chops, braised with gravy, served with mashed and gravy and salad.
He brought the LIIT, I continued drinking.
Sic-un started drinking.
Switch was over and was drinking.
Things get a little blurry with my 2nd vodka-and. First it was vodka and punch, then when the punch went away, it was vodka and pepsi (sugar pepsi!!). Then LIIT.
I was well and truly lit. And things are a little blurry.
I pulled out the camera and took blurry pictures of everyone. No, you won't see them here. I don't have Photoshop to protect people's identities yet :D

Then things got blurry. It became 'Turn Darkneuro on' time. Random fondles from everyone.
I like random fondles. I wanted to sit on a lap somewhere, but honestly?
--One of my resolutions this year is to actually eat better and lose some of this weight. I have taken off some in the size department (my size 20 jeans should REALLY be size 18, and all my work pants? Yeah, they're 20s too and should be 18s), but I don't have a scale and therefore can't tell you numbers.--
But I don't feel good about my body. I don't like my size and think of myself as larger than what I am. When the subject of sitting on someone's lap comes up, I tend to decline doing so. I'm heavy and don't want to crush or stop someone's circulation or anything like that. Even if they say it's good and they can do it and want to, it still makes me very conscious of my size, which puts a damper on everything.
So I declined to sit on anyone's lap.

Sic-un took my clothes off in the living room. Apparently, it took about 20 minutes to get my sweatpants off. Not due to anything like I was passed out or anything, but I didn't want to take my pants off, not right then. We had determined there was one condom in the house. Sic-un and I play pull-out, and I trust him with it. Switch? J? Condoms are necessary. Everyone is good with that, it's expected.
Due to the amount of alcohol ingested, Sic-un was kinda out for the evening for play-time. But wait! There's 2 other males in the house! That produced wood all around.
Switch and J and Sic-un discussed who would have me with the 1 condom.
Switch.
I missed him. He hasn't been in bed with me lately, he had a girlfriend he made a promise with. I allowed him that promise. Bed buddies should be just that, with either side ready and waiting to say "OK, you need this/that/the other thing? OK." He needed that promise, so OK. But I did miss him, my body missed him, and I told him so. I don't like not touching, not touching him. I like that freedom.
He was drinking, though. So where I had at least 7 orgasms (Sic-un kept count in the living room-I gave up counting a long time ago), he didn't have any, and he was ok with that. But we stopped after a bit and some cuddle time (I like pillowtalk with Switch. He's fresh). Went out to the living room.

I wanted liquid and a smoke and some time out.
Then J.
Yumyum.
He was too far gone to come himself, let me know pretty much right away. Such a pretty dick. Loved on that for a bit. Tonsils got pummeled. In the meantime, he's fondling me, fingering me, getting me off left and right. Then I moved between his thighs for an extended session. Sat on my heel. Every now and again, grind-grind and POW! There's another orgasm for Darkneuro.
Then liquid and a smoke and some time out once it was determined that since there was no further gifts from the condom fairy to be had and he couldn't plunder me.

Then Sic-un.
He gets so very turned on when I have others inside me. So very turned on. But the alcohol played against him. Me? BangAwaySally! Him? He was hurt when he realized I couldn't make him come. On my behalf.

He was hurting for me, wanted me to be completely and utterly pleased with the night and the burgeoning morning, wanted me completely satisfied, and because he thought I wasn't (but I was!), he hurt on my behalf.
Is it any wonder I love this man completely and utterly?

By then, it was about 6.
A.M.
Sic-un went to bed about 7. I went about 7:30. J left the house about 7:15. Switch dozed on the couch until I got up at 11 and told him to go to bed for a bit.
I have bruises on my arms (bite mark on 1, finger prints on the other), some red marks on my neck. My knees are sore, but that's because I crawled when I couldn't muster the balance to walk.
And I have been well and truly messed up.

Happy New Year!

I do have to say that this next image probably more accurately describes the year I'll have.....

See you on the flipside, people.

* Long Island Iced Tea-1 part each vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, sour mix, splash coke (although we DID use TEA-sweet tea. Sic-un made it. YUM!)

Thoughts for a new turn of the solar system....

2010-12-30T22:44:00.000-05:00

...Over on that one site-the one they made a movie about? Yeah. Over there, one of my very oldest friends (I've known him since he was 5 and I was 4) posed this question: If a magic portal suddenly appeared in front of you, and a voice said you can go back one time- for an event, a mistake, or to travel to the future- what would you do?

It's an interesting logic puzzle, and there really isn't a 'right' answer, but it's along the lines of my 'What would you do if you won the lottery?' mind-occupier, which makes it right up my alley. I realized right away there were too many connotations, and the question isn't as simple as it first seems. There would be conditions, methinks, and situations to consider, definitely. Conditions could range from the stereotypical time-traveler's paradox all the way to definitions of the terms used. Situations to consider... Dear Reader, you have to understand that I really cannot say 'best' or 'worst' or 'favorite' or 'hated' because it really does depend on the situation at hand. For instance: Favorite food? My immediate thought becomes: What type of food? Main course, ingredient, raw food, flavor, what? Give me more details and I may be able to answer your question.

Sic-un has played a bit with me, asking me to describe stuff. I find myself beginning to answer like a Fair Witness, filled with detail and nothing to chance, nothing assumed. My mind really does work to that level. If you tell me blue, I'll ask if it's the baby blue or the royal blue or the midnight blue- I see in several million colors and there are different meanings to everything in the world. My blue is not your blue. My answer depends on the details that can be provided. When the question is as devoid of detail as the one he has asked, my answer gets longer. For example...

Events... How many people would choose to go back to that grassy knoll in Dallas? What would they do once they were there? Don't even get me started on 9/11. Here's one... How many people would choose to go to Sarejevo in 1914? Would it make a difference? COULD you make a difference? Let's look at my answers to this part of the question- keeping in mind I operate on detailed information: If you say event, do you mean historically verifiable event? How far back? How famous, infamous or innocuous does that event have to be? Will my actions when there affect the outcome or will I only be able to observe? Let's pick a few and see how the answers change.
Let's say it could be any name-able event ("When Home Sapiens first discovered fire" doesn't count, because Sapiens didn't 'discover' it) that is plausible. Please note: I did NOT say verifiable.
According to the time-traveler's paradox, I'll only be able to observe.

I can only observe and it has to be plausible and name-able?
Oh, Dear Reader... I'd want to be there to see Maestro fly...

Let's change the parameters.
Observe, but it has to be a familial time-line event: I'd wanna be there when Gramma met Grampa in the hospital in Chicago. OR! I'd like to be there when Acey married Delilah.
Personal event: *quiet smile* Nope...Not gonna tell (much too...heart-close)
Observe, historical event: I'd like to observe the signing of the Declaration.
Observe, IMplausible event: I'd like to observe Arthur's knights in fellowship. Something tells me it would be one hell of a party!
Now change all that to participate, and you open the full can o' proverbial worms. First: If it's participation, the time-traveler's paradox doesn't apply, I would think. How deeply will my participation affect events? Is it a 'mulligan'? Do I get to try it and if I don't like the outcome- even millennia later- I can say 'Oopsie!' and have what I did erased from the time-line as if it never happened (this is magic, after all)? Can I pick the parameters of my participation? Is it going to be realistic or not?
I think that last is a very important detail. I know a LOT of re-enactors who would say they want to go back to the court of Edward I, for example. Not me. Nope. The smells would sicken me, I think, if not the bugs. My system isn't set up to handle diseases of the 13th century, either. They still had smallpox! (as an aside, yes, I've been vaccinated, but still... SMALLPOX!) People DIED from the FLU all the time. They were filthy! At least, by today's standards, they were filthy. I don't think I could handle the no bathing and the lice. *shudder*
And then you have to add in your role in any proceedings. If you're participating, you have to decide how much you want to fuck up history. What happens if you go back and, say, give JFK's convertible a flat so they have to take the limo? Does he die? If he doesn't die in Dallas, does it create a hole in his personal universe so he dies suddenly a different time, still causing LBJ and Viet Nam? Or does he not die in Dallas, we don't have LBJ, we don't go to Viet Nam... what happens then? Does his prodigal son continue the Kennedy tradition of killing women? You stop the bullet in Sarajevo, Franz Ferdinand doesn't die, there is no WWI. What then?
Do you want to be responsible for all of that history? Knowing what we know now? How did we achieve what we know now?

Mistakes... The above is why I don't acknowledge 'mistakes'. I have had serious lapses in judgment. I admit that freely. Were they 'mistakes'? No. The lapses were what I felt the best course of action was at the time and the events make me ME. I am who I am because I made these choices. I thought they were the best choices at the time, and I don't want to go back and change it. It's part of me, of my own personal universe. How did I become who I am? Look at my life. Every choice I've made has created me.
So I don't make what I would consider mistakes. I have made errors in spelling, grammar, typos, those errata type things, but... Mistakes? No. What I have done, what has happened throughout my own personal universe, that has culminated in Me. And I kinda like Me, you know?

Future... Aw, now, THIS is what people want, this is what people really want to know... The Future! But again... Same details are necessary, because going forward can- not does- contain the same paradox as going back. It's been a staple of almost every time-travel to the future fiction created: You can't go forward and get the winning lottery numbers for next weekend's lotto because it changes the odds in strange ways that make it not work.

I don't believe the paradox to be true, actually. YES, you can change timelines and histories other than your own. But! I'm a firm believer in the theory that not only is the future fluid and changeable, but also that everyone's personal universes can touch in strange and interesting ways that DO work. I believe that if a portal to the future opened, and a voice told me "Climb in, you can go where you want, you can come back with the knowledge you gain," I'd get the numbers for the lottery as they were being drawn. Schrodinger's Cat, ladies and gentlemen, is what solves the paradox of the future. My being there as the numbers are drawn changes the parameters of the whole equation, and that right there is what is writing the future.

With any question like this, anything that throws us into impossible 'think on your feet' situations, the devil is in the details.

this battle is....OVAH...

2010-12-26T02:18:00.000-05:00

Christmas meal was good. Ham. Slow roasted, one of the so-called 'city' hams, I braised it, then lightly glazed it. There are leftovers, but an almost-8 pound ham for 3 people? It was picked with leftovers in mind.
We didn't have a tree. No place to put it, really, so we just stacked the wrapped stuff on the chair.
Sos-u likes his robe. His mother purchased him a laptop. He also got a shirt and socks. Well, from me and Sic-un. Picked out by me, and Sic-un gave me money.
Sic-un. Jeans, 2 pair, and a quilted flannel. And socks.
Insert smile here, Dear Reader. Yes, everyone got socks for Christmas.
Even I did, if you count my present to myself.
I have to count the present to myself. Otherwise, I'd be a whiny, grasping little ungrateful pathetic wretch.
Not that anyone has said so.
This is not a label I'd normally give to myself.
But I feel very ungrateful and very...
Whiny and hurt and rather unliked right now.

But see, Dear reader, it's a sad day when one realizes if one wants presents of any sort one must buy them for themselves.

Ungrateful. Grasping. Whiny. Pathetic.

Mom said she hadn't gotten my box off and that's cool. I understand, completely. It was touch and go if the kids gift cards would arrive or not. I understand mailing time.
Sic-un's mom met me once and not under the most auspicious circumstances. She had no idea my tits were as big as they are, so it's very understandable the pullover didn't fit.
Money's a bit tight, so Sic-un giving me the $ I had spent on Sos-u's presents was very welcome. And since he has child support to begin with, it's understandable without question.
So it's all very understandable.

There's a sting, though, when one sits and realizes that out of the packages (one) bought specifically for YOU individually outside of the work Secret Santa thingy? You get exactly none. Leading to ungrateful. Grasping. Whiny. Pathetic.

Add to it the insult of your fan belt breaking on Christmas Eve at dusk, right before a snow.

I can say very honestly this Christmas has felt like quite a bit of a battle. I'm tired. I feel drained. The candies turned out OK, but not as good as I hoped. I did less than I thought I'd do, used the day as an excuse to get my loved ones less than I would have liked to. I wanted to get Sic-un the overalls, and some other shirts and more jeans. They both need thermals, and the tipi-creepers were on the list at one time. I was originally going to give out cookie-kits as well, but ran out of flour (of all things) and could only find the $7 cookie scoops, so it really became not economically feasible. Still, enough is as good as a feast, they say. The work Secret Santa thing netted me a really good smelling candle. Just a jar candle, but it's "Amber and Sandalwood" scented and really pretty smelling. And there's my socks. And tax time is coming up. I should get somewhere between $800 and $1000, like I have for the past 4 years. I'm planning on shopping with some of it. Conman has laid claim to some of it as well, he with the guitar on his brain.... But I'm going to keep him to right in the $200-300 range. Nothing really higher.

So I feel wretched and greedy and grasping. And I'm really REALLY glad the holiday has now passed.

Lasting ephemera...

2010-12-25T01:51:00.000-05:00

I wish us all the best, Dear Reader. Embrace each day and don't forget to tell your loved ones you DO love them.

'Tis the season-

2010-12-23T22:44:00.000-05:00

-al affective disorder! It's the only thing I can think of (other than my hormones are quite possibly completely out of whack and this is my PMS time? But I'm only just now getting OVER the last freaking one. YES, TMI. Deal with it. You've read me before if you're reading me now. You know 2 things: I am the queen of all the motherfucking tangents and I give way too much information.) and honestly...
It's giving me blue christmas too.
I say it's SAD because I'm noticing it more on the more cloudy days. It gets REALLY bad on the drives to work if it's cloudy. It's been cloudy to some degree all this week, and all last week, and the week before that, and it's supposed to get worse this weekend. I felt like this last winter...and the winter before that and the winter before that. And the first winter here in TN? In my apartment? With the really cool sink? Dearest Dear Reader, there were nights where I'd sit in my apartment and just cry because ...(you can insert a shrug here). There's no reason for me to be so UGH, and I can't really think of any particular things that make me just go off. I'm just getting more and more UGH feeling. I can't describe it any better than that. It's... It feels familiar and strange. I'm still kindof standing outside myself watching myself, like I do with PMS, but then there's the leeetle voice in my head saying "It's ok. You'll be fine. Just let it out. Good. Better. Sniffle, wipe your nose. Move on." I don't get that little voice with PMS. The little voice is usually too shocked with horror at my behavior if it's PMS, usually. And I don't know what will set me off.
People kill squirrels around here with cars. There are squirrel carcasses all over this town. I've seen people swerve to hit squirrels. Me? I like squirrels. I've been known to stop for squirrels. I won't feed them-too much of a chance of kitties in the neighborhood stalking the feeding station, but I won't intentionally run them down, you know? I sobbed on my way to work this morning over a squirrel laying in the middle of the road.
I was driving to work yesterday and started crying (get this) because it was Wednesday.
I was at the AD and doing a quality improvement thing and almost freaked out. Why? I chocked it up at the time that I was just tired, but I was just tired of the quality improvement thing. Not something to throw a fit over, you know?
And then add in Christmas. All of Christmas. The whole kit-n-caboodle that is the commercialized psuedo-religious holiday it's been for the last 150 years...
(ahem)
I finished the candy-making. No baking this year-I bake cookies all the fucking time.
I gave food gifts to people.
I gave kits with the most amazing bread recipe (foolproof meaning the loaf turned out better than just edible, it was DELICIOUS-and I've long bemoaned the fact that I suck at bread making) to people.
Sic-un and Sos-u's gifts are all wrapped and waiting.
ET gets Optimus Prime (delivered today), Conman and the Princess' gift cards were last seen in the OakRidge post office parking lot Monday morning, falling gently into the slot marked 'Mail ONLY up to 13 ounces!' because I was slow getting out the door to work.
Christmas dinner is purchased and awaiting cooking (we're having ham, sweet potatoes, potato salad, green beans, salad and rolls), which I will be doing all day Christmas.
I have added to a tattoo arrangement I have with someone, to take place just on the 2nd.
My computer got sick, I healed it. It took 3 weeks, but I healed it.
I have not gotten the Gentleman from Virginia's package out to him (Wilde) yet. My beautimous Japanese shark will be getting a recipe book as soon as I get it together (all my cookie recipes. All. She deserves).

I've managed to stay busy. It's not that I'm not doing anything or not occupying myself or anything like that. It's not "Bored, let's get depressed!" or anything. And I'm not picking myself apart, like I have been known to in the past. I'm just... I'm sad. I want sunshine. I want laughter.

I'm in a really good time right now, but the overwhelming urge to (no, not beat the crap out of someone) just sit down and cry and moan and wail just comes upon me sometimes. And Christmas adds to it. I miss my family. I miss...
I miss the sun a real angle at noon, like overhead? Or I'll even take a shadow 10 degrees either way at noon, really! Out here, at noon? 'Cause my first break usually comes right at or about noon? It's not overhead, not by any stretch of any imaginary friend's imagination.... My shadow that I cast? I would swear it was about 3 pm in Albuquerque based on that shadow. The sun is already at a funny angle, and when you fuck with its position due to the SEASON??? Ohboy.
The sun is disappearing on what little horizon line we have here by about 4 in the afternoon. It's dark by 5:30. There is no moonshine, there's too many clouds. I missed the eclipse! MISSED! Why? Why do you think they call them the Great Smokies? No, I didn't think of that before I moved out here. I was too enamored with getting ME back to notice. So I missed the eclipse. And no, pictures aren't the same.

I want to play "Lizard" in the sunshine on a concrete bench warmed by the sun for a few hours.

It's gotta be S.A.D.

I say I'm in a really good time right now because I feel very OK. Yes, I'm scattered, but I'm usually scattered to some degree or another. Sic-un and I are good. I haven't been talking sex for awhile because my period has been fucked up. Nothing for 45 days, then 2 weeks of nothing but. It kinda kills the mood, but hey! I'm not pregnant! AD is good, I'm in learning mode right now, so it's OK and being OK. I'm putting in the effort, at least. J may be by for the holiday -Please note: Sic-un has to work, period is all but over, so I may get a chance at another bounce session with him, which would be a GREAT present for the day, but even if it's a great present, it still won't make it a BAD day if I don't get it, you know? I'm feeling very ok.
And it's not booze, it's not other intoxicants, I'm just feeling very OK right now. I'm in a good place. But then I'll weep for no fuckin' reason and it's starting to really, really get to me when added in with the Christmas blues....

I just need more vitamin D, more sunshine, maybe some light therapy.

'Tis the season, after all.

Ohmeohmy....

2010-12-15T23:59:00.000-05:00

I had a virus. YES! I had a virus. I just finished the system restore, and I'm missing stuff, but that's OK because I no longer have crap popups and misdirects and crap downloading itself like it's from Windows.

What pisses me off the most?
You know it was created by some script-kiddie in Mommy's basement pickin' his nose and waiting for the day when the world will REALLY recognize his genius... Because, you know, he considers himself to be an oldfag on whatever-chan he happens to gleefully post on.
Am I bitter? Yes. Yes, I am.
I just spent 3 fucking days copying my files to whatever flash drive I could find that would work to cart said files to Sic-un's computer to burn to CD. I ended up using my camera-as-flash-drive with its 256 mb card and Richard's old 128 mb card...at least before I ran out of batteries for the camera (and it was a week until payday and I'm BROKE!).
Why? 'Cause the virus ate up my drivers. Steadily. Almost like it was a caterpillar chomping through my hard-drive. So the DVD writer I have (such a SPIFFY! thing) didn't work, and every cd I tried to create failed miserably.
I had YEARS worth of artwork and music on my computer. YEARS....I had my entire CD collection entered, IDIOT BOY'S collection entered (all that Eno! Beatles! Yello!), 5 years worth of hunting up flash from every possible source (so much copy-lefting!)...
3 days to copy it over the long way.
grrrrrr.

BUT! I'm up and running once again. Now all I need is my Photoshop back and my Office back. Then....THEN...... MWAAHAHAHAHA...

In other news. Sosu still hasn't moved in. Sic-un dropped the bike while in the middle of a white-out (more or less) on Sunday afternoon (bruised to hell and gone, bike's fine except for the clutch handle. It's rather artistically curved now from the initial impact). Winter hit here in TN in a big way. Came out of the north, so we blame Canada here. Snowed most of Sunday, all of Monday. Icy roads. No, I didn't go to work Monday. I could have walked the full 5 1/2 miles, I suppose, but then I considered....
I'm a sedentary 40 year old who smokes.
Death does not become me. Still, I was going to walk the 1/2 mile or so down the hill to get a ride from one of the supervisors... That fell through.
So I called in. Went back to bed. Stayed warm. Ended up running some laundry and continuing to copy over the fucking files.

I get the feeling if I ever won the lottery, I'd be dangerous.

Alternate dimension (work) is having potluck and gift exchange (no more than $5, $10). I signed up for potato salad. Always a good thing to have/make. And my salad is good. Mako can attest to that, so can Sic-un. And J. And ....has Sosu had my potato salad?....Hmmmmm..... Anyway, I make it like the Mothership does. Great potato salad. And it's made the way Grandmothership did.
I carry on certain traditions with pride, potato salad just happens to be one of them.
That takes place on the 23rd.
I have yet to do any Xmas shopping. I'll have to pay for shipping, I know. But that's the easy thing. And only 1 thing, really....2 things. Grandma's Music in Albuquerque will ship to my Conman... And Amazon will ship to the ET.
Yes, Little Sis. I'm going to call him ET. Get used to it.
Kid likes Transformers. Kid will get Transformers. Optimus Prime. The big one. The one I wanted, you know? But better because manufacturing got a lot more detailed in the intervening 25 years. That one. ET gets it. Princess is getting a gift card. She'll be able to buy whatever she wants. She's a girly girl who understands shopping, I've been led to understand.
Sosu... I know what he's getting, and Sic-un too. Everyone else is going to get cooking things. Really! Things like "Add one beer of your choice to create a delish loaf of beer bread!" and have the ingredients with a loaf pan and instructions.... Or the ingredients and a cookie scoop, "Here's my chocochip recipe. Enjoy!". Things like that.
Not just because I'm poor and want to give to my universe-dwellers but can't really afford to go on a spending spree, but also because I *like* to cook and I want other people to like to cook too, you know?
I've even considered writing a cookbook of sorts.
I would have to measure stringently, methinks. And that's a little too straight-laced when you get down to it.

I have purchased myself something. It was pure feel-good shopping, I admit. I ended up going to sockdreams and getting a set of socks and their industrial garter belt. Industrial because it's purely very no-nonsense. Rather utilitarian and stern, heavy duty black elastic. The socks are over the knee (which on me should be 1/2 way up the thigh) and a chevron pattern. They're pretty. I still need to wash them so I can wear them. I also want more from the store... Some of their heavier knit items. Warmer socks. Long socks.

And with that, I think I'm headed to a warm bath. My bones are feeling chilly tonight.

Ooh, I have a dirty, dirty heart....

2010-11-30T01:52:00.000-05:00

Comparisons can do WONDERS for my disposition at the strangest times. First, MINE.

I have finished! NaNoWriMo. I'm not posting the story here. I've considered it at great length, actually. It is posted elsewhere under my real name, so if you can find it, you're welcome to read it that way. HOWEVER... there is a such thing as an email, guys. If you want the doc, lemme know. I'd recommend it, and I'm not saying that 'cause I wrote it. I'm actually not thrilled with the ending, but was afraid of really letting loose and then having to edit heavily. I will probably still redo the end a bit. I am, though, talking about as a reader. I have actually gone back and read it JUST for the story. Did that this past weekend, read it again just for the reading...

It's been cold and rainy, then sunny and crisp, then dreary and raining and ...UGH. Mother Nature must still need Prozac. It's affecting my mood. The alternate dimension has been... lackluster? Yeah, good word for it. Just kinda... blah. I haven't been feeling *great* lately, you know? And my computer has caught a bug, quite a serious bug. I now have to reformat (but don't want to w/o a restore disc-ordered and supposedly on its way- and my program discs from the MotherShip). The house is still a wreck, I can't seem to muster the drive or the energy to clean it all up. I'm supposed to be starting on a piece for a girl from the AD this upcoming weekend. Nervous as hell about it, considering postponing. I don't have 2 small bits done on it, and just.
UGH, you know?
And S.o.s-u is moving in 'sometime'. Yes, yes, the 'spare room' is now going to be 'S.o.s-u's room'. He's 17, as I think I've mentioned. And a clothes horse, and a walking stomach. SO. Water bill/amount of laundry/food bill just expanded. I'm OK with it. I get it. I (mostly) understand the dynamics behind it, but I really hope nobody (and I do mean NOBODY) is looking to me to provide any kind of 'parenting'. I can word things well. I give great advice. HOWEVER, I am permissive, overly so, and the fact that he's just so cute doesn't help much, you know?

I'm a sucker for a pretty face.

Which brings me to my dirty heart and how I like to make it feel good. You see the above figure, right? NaNo's, I mean? It's 66704. Finished on the 23rd. Not to brag (oh, hell, I'm bragging, baby!), but 16704 over the 50K 'finish line'.
Ahem. Idiot is apparently in Nano this year, too. As of just a few minutes ago? It's now the last day to write. It's the 30th, it's the end of the month. Let's bask in someone else's lack of follow through, shall we?

The thing speaks for itself.

With that, g'night!

Writing...

2010-11-12T02:12:00.000-05:00

I'm writing again. I took on the NaNoWriMo challenge once again. Last time was in 2005. Didn't complete, didn't really compete, either. Too much going on personal life. Same with 2004. Not only did I have all the shit going down with the idiot, I also had the idiot insisting on 'outdoing' me. I was constantly asked how much I had written, but wasn't given any real time to write. There was always something that needed doing. I had forgotten about it by the time I moved here. That first November, I was already seeing Sic-un and wrapped up in a new relationship. The second, I had just moved in and was looking forward to cooking my own Thanksgiving dinner. Time went on and NaNoWriMo became something that I had 'tried but failed so why try?' 6 days before this Halloween, I saw a blurb on it over on boingboing.net (I think).

I thought about it. Did I have the desire to do it, to make a serious attempt at writing something? Well, yes. I've half-way plotted my way through several things. Did I have the time? Well, DUH. I'm not on the computer doing something useful, you know, not even entertaining. I actually spend quite a bit of my time being entertained by my computer. Sites I'll go to, games I'll play, Teh IntarWeb exists as an alternative to the squawk box. So, yeah, I do have the time. I'm up until 2:30, 3 most nights anyway. Rather than play stupid games all night, might as well write something.
I decided I'd do it, signed up on the 27th of October. I set up a profile, then set up an outline, character maps, everything. It was supposed to be some sort of Herman's Head type thing, a conflagration of the id, ego and superego warring it out to see who would come out on top, introducing such characters as The Clerk, who really does live in my brain. He's an unassuming chap, believes in the power of the bow-tie to make it serious. Yes, he wears the suspenders instead of a belt. He also is prematurely balding because I keep making him run all over at top speed chasing tangents. He's ripping his hair out, Dear Reader.

I started writing on November 1. The outline and characters and the barest hint of plot of what I was doing all went straight out the window. It flew, Dear Reader, simply flew. As fast as I can type, I had a firm plot and several characters and histories. I had HISTORIES in just a matter of an hour or so. I'm now better than 1/2 way through the 50K words. I have absolutely no fear I will reach that goal. The story is a bit longer than that, I'm thinking, but Sic-un is insisting the right to reclaim a portion of me after the first 50,000. I'm moving fast enough with it and it's coming easily enough that I'm actually kindof freaked out about it.

So what's it about? I can hear the question now. That's a little harder to explain. Keep in mind my intentions were to write a wry little commentary on how insular we have become through general fiction.

The 2 remaining serial killers from a family of serial killers-who are also hardcore pornographers-kidnap Kira to be their latest 'actress'. Through a combination of drugs and Stockholm Syndrome, Kira, a young graphic designer, starts falling for one of her tormentors.

That's where I'm at. 31K in. And no, it's not safe for work. NO, REALLY. It's PORN. If you have any knowledge of ASSTR's story codes, it's going to end up being:
MF, M+/F, F/b, M/m, MM, FF, Mdom, Fdom, bi, nc, inc, ped, tort, rp, anal, size, b/d, s/m, toys, fist, best, sn

I didn't set out to write porn. And when I sit down to write, I will literally start typing and my brain goes off someplace else. It really kinda feels like someone else is writing it. Maybe it's the Clerk's frustrations at my tangents.

So that's what I'm up to. I'll post it here when I'm at 50K, ok? I don't think that'll take much longer.

All Hallow's aftermath and November.

2010-11-02T00:09:00.000-04:00

...or shall I say NaNoWriMo? I'm trying it again this year. Failed first attempt in 2005? 2004? Something like. I was still with Idiot and trying hard to not lose my mind. I'm all together this year, so perhaps that will make the difference.

So how did I do today? Seeing how it IS the first of Nov, and the day after Halloween and I was incredibly busy today, I'm very impressed with myself. I may still write more if I get bit again by it, but right now I'm sitting pretty at 1718 words reported, 2811 done (I reported, then had to get out a bit more), and 2 chapters kicked out. What's it about? Well, see, that's the hard part...
I don't have an outline.
Well, I don't. I started an outline. I did. I was going to introduce the world to the people that live in my head: Marge and Harvey, The Clerk, all of them. I had it outlined...
And then I remembered a dream I had a bit ago and it wasn't a pleasant dream. It was rather dark and rather scary, and unfinished...The bladder woke me up before I was done with the dream. Best analogy would be 'rape fantasy', but it's not. It was a dream, an unpleasant dream (to say the least) and no... There was no enjoyment out of it. But there is a story there. And since it saw fit to bite me hard enough to make me discard an outline and characters pre-made? I'll run with it and see where I end up.
I just hope I can be....ruthless? It'll work. Ruthless enough to write 50K on the subject. I will be posting excerpts when I get some chunks under my belt. I will say it's rough. ROUGHrough. One of the things that got me last time was the on-the-fly editing. That's not happening with this one. I will spell-check, and I am going back through every 20 minutes or so and re-reading. Re-working bits to make them work the way they're being written in my head as opposed to how my fingers are typing it. In some cases, surprisingly enough, I'm keeping the way my fingers are typing instead of what's in my head...that doesn't usually happen.
Usually, I write as if I were reading a book. It's flowing better with this one, and going in without a plan, with only the barest hints of a plot from a 1/2 remembered dream... I really have no expectations. I'm seeing if I can do it, that's all.

KE posted recently about not writing. And not writing scares me. So. NaNoWriMo.
***
All Hallow's was... Vaguely depressing. I ended up going to 2 haunted houses... The first was at Cherokee Caverns, a cave system very close to us. Sic-un didn't want to go, Sos-u did. It was fun, got some good ideas for my non-existent haunted house and since all proceeds went to the Caverns (main/only fund raiser of the year and it's completely volunteer run), it was a good cause.
The second was Saturday night, at Sos-u's school. It was actually better than the Cavern, but I'm still going to pick it apart. Yes, it sounds cheesy and it was a good HH, but still... I wasn't scared. I was actually laughing through it. It doesn't really work if people keep asking you 'Are you scared?' as they're trying to scare you. And it didn't help that the (I think cheerleading team) was dressed as 'nurses' and were supposed to read a script as you went through. None of them could project one iota, at least as far as I could see. The script was pretty good, patter about how the high school used to be a mental institution, and it was a good setting for it. The school appears to be from the 40's or so, perhaps as early as the 20's, but I'm not sure on that. It's solid, institutional... A good setting. Good idea, OK execution, needs some work.
Sos-u was in full makeup, called Sic-un daddy-o which was cute.
I carved yesterday, made up the last of the pumpkin from 2009 into a fluffy pie. Here's the lantern....

And here's the pie....

I kinda figured out why my pumpkin pie is fluffier, especially in mouth-feel, than anything my mom has turned out. It's all in the order of ingredients. She uses the Libby recipe, I use the Libby recipe. She uses homemade puree, so do I. Slightly different spices (I add more ginger, some allspice, and more cinnamon than the recipe calls for), but spice won't affect texture this way. So I paid attention this time.
I discovered I don't like the way the recipe is put together. They want you to stir the sugar and spices together in a separate bowl, then in your big bowl, beat eggs lightly, add pumpkin and spice/sugar mix, then evap milk.
Result? Tight, dense pumpkin pie.
Sugar, although a DRY ingredient, tends to act like a liquid. It is hydroscopic, will dissolve rapidly, and although you have tiny little grains, doesn't hold shape in any discernible manner. Eggs, although a wet ingredient, are indeed a fat and an emulsifier. Evap milk? Fat. Pumpkin puree? It's wet. SO. Seeing as how the only DRY ingredients are the spices, why would you mix those and sugar together then lump everything?
I whip my eggs until they are light yellow and ribbony, then add the sugar to whip it up. Get it fluffy. Stream in the evap milk, which gets fluffy too. Then the spices so they're evenly distributed, then the pumpkin puree. Pour it out, cook it up.
Fluffy pumpkin pie is worth the change in the order.
According to my Joy of Cooking, you can even whip evap milk and sugar into something like whipped cream. So it makes sense to whip it all first to fluffy. Oh, and I added a teaspoon or so of vanilla. It counterpoints the spice and pumpkin and warms everything up in a MOST interesting manner. The vanilla is added with the pumpkin.
***
And since it is now November 2, I have to go to work in a few hours. Enjoy your day, Dear Reader!

And once again...

2010-10-18T00:17:00.000-04:00

I check in feeling like utter crap. Haven't started on the booze yet. Nor juice...But I have started decongestants and vitamins and we'll see how that goes for right now.

So what happened? I last checked in starting a headcold on 9-14. I can honestly say I didn't feel even moderately okay until around the first of October. Then my period hit... Not bad, but not really enjoyable. It was like getting hit in the lower abdomen repeatedly for about 1/2 a day, then... I wish they could all be that easy. I did have some trepidation this month. Last year, on 10-2, I started the Period From Hell. It lasted one full month, and it was heavy. I suffered no ill effects, apparently, but I still worried Mom Nature might get perverse and whammy me again.

Thank biology, didn't happen. Instead, I could look forward to the next weekend. I had a really great weekend filled with going out and being social animals and just simply all sorts of sex (I got a new toy and had a willing partner to try it out with), some evidence of which still exists on my body. Give someone carte blanche and they leave a pale yellowing bruise about 1/2 an inch across. I love being me sometimes!

I have made a friend in the Alternate Dimension. And she's alternate, really. But in a cool way. Although she is cute and has red hair, there is no sexual attraction. I find myself wanting her as a friend. And my Japanese shark... She has found much happiness and I wish her much, much more. She is actually the reason for the newfound social activity. And yeah... Alternate Dimension bled over into my reality, my own time off... Work buddies? Hell...My bosses were there.

And I got drunk.
Kinda sorta really drunk, but not puke-y drunk...Weave-y happy drunk.
Drunk enough to get a rug burn (light!) on my knee and know how I got it there. It's really very simple. At the time it happened, it was easier to crawl into the bedroom instead of walking. Walking was a little... Off. Crawling? Piece of cake!
None of which was public. Public, I got hit on by my direct boss' date for the evening. Wasn't in the mood for a good ol' boy. He was the 1/2 drunk, wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am, gets grope-y and just....Boozy-type... Ew. No thank you. We were celebrating the upcoming LUMP-hood of a friend and her man. It was worth celebrating. I did have a designated driver. Sos-u was up, so he drove home.
Boy can't drive stick worth shit.
No hangover the next morning.

Now I have one more week of work to get through (as of 8 minutes ago, it was 115 1/2 hours). Then I have a miraculous 10 days off. Saturday the 23rd through Monday November 1... Yeah, through. I'm taking off the day after the most important holiday of the year (to me. TO ME).

Which begs the question...

What to do for the pumpkin this year?
I really don't have anything in mind. Really. Well, there was the possibility of doing a tattoo machine on it. But that's not Halloween.
SO.
What to do for the pumpkin... I don't know what size I'll get (I want pumpkin for at least 1 pie and some bread!), and think I wanna go somewhat traditional, but maybe not if the design is nifty enough.
Anyone have ideas?
For your viewing pleasure....

Halloween for....2007? 2008? One of them, I think.

This is my drink....

2010-09-14T02:04:00.000-04:00

I'm being screwed, so to speak. And not in the good way.

Sic-un has the current head-cold. He popped up Friday: "I think I caught this."
He did.
Saturday, I thought I may have it, so I started decongestants, grabbed sanitizer and wipes for work.
His settled into his chest Sunday.
He was out of work today because of it, and has started antibiotics (technicolor mucous).
Me? I was fine until right before I got out of work tonight.
Now my throat is ticklish, my sinuses are making themselves known in the worst way, and I've started a cough.
So we add cough syrup to take care of that.
I'm sleeping in the spare room, and Sic-un and I have barely touched elbows since Friday.
I'd say that's a screwing. So tonight's beverage of choice is the standard screwdriver, only it may be a bit strong.
The graphic tells the tale. Everything above the line? Vodka. Below? Orange juice.And that's with a swallow or 2 out of it. It went up to 1/2 way between level and the rim. You can see the condensation.
Figure 1 1/2 shots of vodka for every 3/4 cup of juice. And there's about 2 cups of juice. So yeah. And I'm on the second of the evening. I hate illness.

It is now September...

2010-09-09T23:50:00.000-04:00

...school is back in session, although that means (at best) I have to slow down when the little light blinks. Thanks to my schedule at work, that ain't gonna happen.

Tires are repaired, replaced, fixed, et cetera et cetera et cetera. To the tune of $400, but they're fixed. I will say this for the shop: They came across a problem, said 'We can fix it for X amount, or we can not fix it and just do what you asked. What would you like us to do?'.... Since it was a sway bar that needed straightening, I said yes. So another $100 and it made it $400. Not shabby, although we did put rent off until this paycheck.

The good news is S.o.s-u isn't going to be here for dinner Saturday. Sounds silly, but... We're having steak. And if I don't have to plan sides enough to feed the 17-year-old stomach-on-legs, then that's cool. I can get 2 ears of corn for me and Sic-un and salad enough for us and there's dinner, 'cause it can all be grilled outside. I'm not in the mood for potatoes, but that's me. Dinner Friday will be pizza or Venice take-out or something.

I'm not hungry. Of course, it is that time of the month so my stomach is fucked anyway. And it's especially bad this session. Cramping to the point of painful to walk and gee... here's a MUSCLE RELAXANT (Flexeril) that DOESN'T WORK.... Yeah. 10 mg of Flexeril and I can say it didn't really work. It made me feel a bit drunk, but I can do that with the vodka in the freezer and the beer in the fridge. But 2 days of debilitating cramps (tears, mostly, fetal position, mostly) and feeling like the world's biggest wuss....

Look, I can take a fucking tattoo needle and impale my own skin with it repeatedly and SMILE while I'm doing it. Yet I can't smile through cramps that feel like a fucking knife is being thrust repeatedly into my lower abdomen. And it's not something that you can really say 'oh, well, stretch it out, walk it off'... Doesn't work that way. I feel like a wuss for giving into the pain. I should be better than that. I should be able to smile and walk through it...
So I feel wussy.

But I am going to work tomorrow. I didn't go today, or yesterday (kinda detrimental to have to hunch over to walk anywhere), but I will go tomorrow. I don't want a written for attendance, but I'll accept another verbal, and that's what this will be.

Anyone want a barely used uterus? I'll sell you mine, cheap!

Let's ask Dante!

2010-08-26T00:24:00.000-04:00

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Extreme
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Extreme
Level 7 (Violent)	Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Extreme
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Extreme

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

*sniff*
Gramma would be so proud of me!
Not really. She would be mortified, like any other dearly loved old lady would be. Very low on Limbo. How low can you go? How low can you go?
Very low...
Sorry. Mind wanders.

My mind has been wandering into strange places, lately. Firstly, the tire saga...
Monday morning, bright and early at 9 the a of the m, I get to give the tire place here approximately $300 for a set of 4, all inclusive. How do I know it's all inclusive? 'Cause that's one of the many benefits of having a member of the GBN* as a partner... He does the dirty work of calling the tire place to make sure I don't get another "Ohhh, we can align for $220....No? Hm.... $165." craptastic experience. All inclusive means: Tires (new), balanced, installed, aligned, stems, disposal fees, aligned... I will have wheels once again that don't go thumpathumpathumpathumpa when I decide I wanna go over 45mph.And the alignment portion is $60. Not $165.
So once the tire saga was brought gently into holding pattern until the tense-ness of the trip to the tire place Monday morning (one tire is showing a smidge of cord...It hasn't gone anywhere since discovered), one's mind turns to what money one will have deposited on Friday when one is SERIOUSLY short-timing it until her mini-vacation of 5 days off. One estimates one will have enough to pay her part of the rent, and tires, and not much freakin' else.

But one will have tires that don't make strange noises.

It's annoying to hear myself in the third person in my head reading this back to myself. I made a comment about the various voices in my head over on the ever-popular FB. Yes, yes, tell me everything bad about it. It's a cheap (read that as "free") and easy way to keep in touch with the entire family all at once.** I've spoken here before, I think, about the voices in my head. I've added some new ones. Some are easily explained (which first came out as esplained for some reason... No, I'm not Ricky Ricardo. I can't mambo...Although the old Spanish woman named Inez comes out in my head when I'm cooking with the chiles), some are childishly explained by a graphic, some are a phrase or characters I picture while actions are taking place ("Make it so!" was Picard's catchphrase. Can't read it without his voice in my head. There's a ballplayer in my head who does a fist pump after catching a fly ball. You draw the scenario, that's the reaction to a fly ball). I've also added the narrator from DungeonKeeper to my repertoire. FB... You like this. And yes, I do like some things.

Then the mind wanders to what I like...

Dare I say I like kissing? Ooooh, and yes, there's a list, and you know the list. C'mon...
Who have I kissed recently? Sic-un, obviously. Sos-u.. (gasp! Yes, I think I did... Let me see... well, the 4th of July. Kissing was part of it. MYGOD/DESSwhatakisser), Switch. J...but I have hopes I can teach J to kiss. Emulation. Example. "No. Hold still. Let ME kiss YOU. Relax." I can do that. He brushes his teeth. Idiot never learned because Idiot never brushed his teeth. Lots of lip-sucking, lapping, not so much tongue-twining, old-timey mash-em up.... Hot kissing. Want.

And then the days off....necessary. SO.Very.Necessary.... It's not the Alternate Dimension. It's the insomnia and the increased libido and the voices... I have to turn off for a little bit. I have to ink. I want to finish my fan. I wanna fuck. I wanna kiss. I wanna get messed up and get messy. I wanna make more chili...food and sex. Sex and food and art and kissing and fucking...

Sorry. Tangent. You see where my mind has been wandering lately?

Jump back up to FB and the voices in my head... One of my cousins put it the way I dread it being thought about... "You're weird." And J... I put on his shoes for him. One of those stupid little things I like to do, like a phrase I read once that I hear Henry Rollins saying in my head...'wipe your spent cock very neatly.' I do things like that and...
I'm weird... He meant it in a good way, but still.
I want to blend, to a certain degree. I want to function in society until I can escape it. I go off in my dreamland, and that IS my escape, at least until I win that huge pile o' money I keep dreaming about.

Which is why I think about Dante's 7 levels and think he got it wrong...
Something to think about it.
But low on 'Limbo'. I don't believe in 'Hell', as an opposite to 'Heaven'. And I think we all make our own 'Hell'. Mine is apparently fed on insomnia and an overachieving libido.

*GBN=Good ol' Boy Network... It means I don't get shafted for being 'the little woman' in a very male-centric part of the country.

**On the subject of FB: I'll consider adding you as a friend. But don't be offended if the answer is 'No.' And please put any requests to that nature with a little 'I know you from' statement. If I don't get that, I ask for it. You get placed in limbo until I get an answer for that question. Oh. Limbo can be anywhere from 12 to 48 hours. No answer, no soup for you. And it's entirely arbitrary. And if it works the way I have it set up, you gotta know my real identity.

http://secret-identity.net/

slogging along, singing a song....

2010-08-20T00:38:00.000-04:00

Sorry.... Couldn't remember what the exact word (it's bobbing. derp) was while typing the title. So I used slogging, which is a perfectly good word. And I have been slogging along, really.

The Alternate Dimension remains the same. Although I do have to say it's been an interesting perspective lately... I've been viewing the drive-time from the back of Sic-un's bike. "Why the bike?" you may be asking yourselves. Well, my tires are in sore need of replacement. And rather than get shafted by the company that I had do them 3 4 years ago-
TANGENT: National chain sears store that also does automotive work replaced my leaking tires (yes, leaking. From around the rims) for $35 apiece with tire disposal fee of X per tire and valve replacement of X per tire and then came over after starting into it to ask me if I wanted the alignment for only $225. I said no. $165. I said no. So now it's 4 years later and not only are my tires in desperate need of alignment, but they also all have exactly the same wear pattern that shows they got the alignment set to 0 to start before I told them no.
--And my tires need replacing because they're showing cord, or starting to. The (best/cheapest/most highly recommended) place around here does them only Monday through Friday.
"Go in the morning!" you say... That would necessitate getting up at 6 a.m. No. "Skip work!"... Rather not. I'm just now off verbal warning (4 call-ins, they drop 1 every month w/o a call in), and because one of them was a leave early? Yeah. Leave early which counts as 1/2, I am now at 3 1/2. Rather not get yet another fucking verbal write up for my fucking attendance.
AT ANY RATE (get on with it!)..... Since Sic-un's schedule has been changed to match mine (M-F, 11-7:30), we're riding into work together to allow my tires sit time until I have my 3 weekdays off coming up and can go in when the aforementioned (best/cheapest/most highly recommended) tire shop is open. And what luck! It's payday Friday right before my time off.

The meaning of the phrase time off is that: From this point in time (11:16 p.m., 8.19.2010), I work 1 day, then 2 days off, 5 days on, 5 days off (time off requested and received), 2 days on, 2 days off.

AND WHAT LUCK! J managed, WITHOUT PROMPTING, to get off 2 of the 3 weekdays I'm taking off. Didn't ask him to, he just did. And he's made it well known that we will be spending time together. Which is a little freaky in a way, that someone would take that initiative with me the target... I mean, yeah, I've taken time off work to spend very specifically with people, but.... he's doing it for me. He's made it very clear he's doing it for me. And I don't know how I feel about that. I appreciate it, you know, the gesture, but... I didn't ask him to. I was kinda thinking he could maybe come up after he got off work at 1 for one or more days and we could bouncebounce, but before I could really say anything he just told me he had "requested the day off...oh, and the Friday before-You mean you're not taking Friday off... Ok. Hey! I got 2 days off approved, Monday and Tuesday! YAY!"... You see the weird factor there, yes?

I told them quite honestly the 3 days were mental health days. I need some time to ME, if that makes sense (it should)... Sic-un will be with me 3 of those 5 days (sat/sun/mon), J with me 2 of them (one of the days shared w/Sic-un), and I will have Wednesday, September 1, completely to myself. At least for the majority. Which means I can walk around nekkid (guests that weekend, not so much nekkidity), don't have to shut the bathroom door when I go pee (I don't with Sic-un, but again...guests), can turn up the tunes and can sing out loud instead of in my head (I lost my voice to laryngitis too many times to sing effectively any more. I go crackle and Joe Cocker-ish after only a couple bars), I can watch a couple of things I've wanted to catch but it's never really been a good time (I want to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou? again, and see about putting in Dead Man).

I've made plans, I admit. I'm planning on either that Friday night or that Saturday morning hitting my fan again. I itch to have it done. It'll have a few days to start healing before I put clothes back over it. I'm getting my tires that Monday morning. With fresh tires, I'll be able to drive some more, which puts stores other than Wal/K/S/mart at my disposal. Payless Shoes, you know? Yeah, cheap, but... what luck I've had with cheap shoes! Oooh, Hammer's. It's like a very local Ross. Locally owned/operated, only 4 stores, and the towns are a fair distance apart. But I'm thinking maybe some shopping depending on how much tires really end up costing. Per Sic-un, alignment shouldn't be more than $50 or so from them, a phrase parroted by others. So I may have some, not much, extra cash. Just in time, too... we go back to wearing business casual on Labor Day. SIGH. Although I do kinda like dressing up. It's just not real comfortable for sitting for 7 1/2 hours a day. Unless I can kick off a shoe and put my leg up underneath me.

And, well, I plan on getting myself fucked absolutely silly those 5 days. And there's the possibility that's it's 3, not 2, people that will be inside me. Mmmmmm....goosebumps. You do realize, of course, that there's a big part of me rubbing hands in glee saying "YAY!"

I'm very lucky. I have someone I love very deeply who loves me well who understands I want a bit of variety and is willing to assist in my getting it, if that makes sense. He's... Well, he chaparones. When J and I were together. I just announced "I'm taking him to bed." and I do the same with the 3rd of the fun-fest too. Yes, this is the one called Switch.
Switch because he will and he does and Sic-un enjoys as well. It is apropos. So it's not completely one-sided, which just wouldn't be fair and I wouldn't be able to stand it at all, except Sic-un is...Well, he's just wonderful. He really is. He hasn't partaken of the Switch, just that once, but the option is there, so I don't feel quite as... Well, dammit! I feel guilty that I'm getting laid like a cheerleader and he's not! Except by me, that is...When he or I aren't tired, hungry, sore... The weather has been really fucking with his back. Barometric pressure affecting joints, especially previously damaged joints.

Rain. Muggy and hot and humid as fuck. I thank the weather...we can use the liquid, and being of the desert, I appreciate the rain. I don't appreciate the whole "Get up to 89 which feels like 105 due to the humidity THEN cloud up and rain only to do it again tomorrow" schtick. Nights are in the 70's. My heart says they should be in the 60's by now, and it should be dry, not 97% humidity, air so thick you feel like you're chewing on it... Being of the desert, I miss the sky.

Still, TN does have its own charms. Sic-un is one. J and Switch are 2 other very charming bits. The rain is good for this desert girl, and I'm appreciative I have a job, health, a car that does run. It's a good time, but I'm still slogging through to time off...

Revisiting some words...

2010-08-08T23:33:00.000-04:00

....that I've written. I'll add to it, believe me, but these are a couple of my previously published faves.
************************************************
For S (*waves*)

Compelled

He was young. He was only 21. Reminded me a lot of someone acting a part out from a movie. But a gangster movie. Godfather, Goodfellas… Something like that. That low quiet manner that says “Fuck with me and you’re dead”. I’ve always been a huge fan of that attitude. Usually it gets me into trouble, but that’s OK. ‘Cause when I went to the guys who have a gentle manner, who aren’t rough ‘n’ tumble, then I just got my heart broke.

But him? I knew his type. Best if you just fucked ‘em and then let them go, or stay, or do what they like. But you’re not the girlfriend, don’t ever go thinking you’re the girlfriend. So you have no hold on them… But his type? His type is fun and it was time for a little ‘his type’.
We had made arrangements, spur of the moment. He was going to come over and we were going to fuck. That’s about as basic as you can get. I was incredibly horny. I had been thinking about this for the two hours it took for him to get to my place. My hands started wandering. I was wearing a sarong, with a tshirt. I had left my bra on, didn’t want to seem too eager, but pinched my nipples until they ached anyway. Started fingering myself, anxious for him to arrive. I watched the door as I ran my fingertips around and around my clit, getting wetter and wetter, thinking about him catching the skin of my neck in his teeth. I could still feel that delicious little nip.

The door opened, he saw me with my hand in my sarong and smiled. Beautiful blue eyes drinking me in, coming towards me on the bed. I pushed myself up onto my knees. He lightly grazed his hand onto my face, leaned in and kissed me slow and deep and lush. It was soft and hard all at once. I wrapped my upper body around his, sucking and nipping his lips, his tongue. He grabbed my tshirt by the hem and pulled it over my head. I started running my hands all over his body, staring at him, kissing him.

He reached his hand down, found the opening to my sarong. Running his hand up, he placed his thumb on my clit and pressed in, then started massaging as he started fucking his fingers into my pussy. I began moving my hips to match his rhythm. I quickly removed his shirt, tugging it over his head. Moved my hands to the button on his jeans, pulled the zipper down over his hardness.

I had to touch his chest. Covered in glorious texture, it was irresistible. I kept running my hands over and over his chest as I kissed him, as he continued fucking me with his fingers. He smelled like nothing and yet like everything. His presence consumed me. I felt like I was in a whirlwind, touching and fondling and licking and sucking.

I was touching him, leaning up to kiss him. He started nipping my neck, my shoulders, all the while finger fucking me with his thumb on my clit. The orgasm came out of nowhere, no warning, just upon me. He pulled off my sarong with his free hand, lifted his other hand to his mouth, licked each finger almost delicately. He leaned over me to kiss me. I could taste my juices on his lips. He reached around and before I could blink my bra had joined the rest of my clothes. He bent further, started mouthing my nipples, leaning me back onto the bed, his fingers continually moving in and out, his thumb beating a quick tattoo on my clit. He leaned me back, chewing on my nipples, nipping my ribcage.

I kept fondling him, touching where I could touch, scratching and rubbing him, spread eagled on the bed with his hand between my thighs. He kissed me again, hot and sweet. He slowly quit manipulating my pussy, moved his hands to my breasts, pulling and tweaking my nipples. He laid beside me, continuing to fondle, kiss. My beautiful cunny was tingling, dripping juices dampening my thighs. I kneeled up over him, straddled his hips. He continued pulling and tweaking my nipples, looking at me as though he wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do, but enjoying it all the same. His hard cock told me that.

I rubbed that hard cock up and down my cleft, circles around my clit. Shivers ran through my body. I had taken him by surprise. I could see that in his face. Had anyone taken charge with him before, or was this all new to him? The thought of taking over this beautiful man’s sexual experience was enough to drive me insane. I plunged myself down on his cock, taking it in one motion, sealing my wet sheath to his groin.

His blue blue eyes widened, feeling me surrounding him. I kept staring at him, gripping his hot cock in my cunt, milking him with just my muscles. Rubbing that wonderfully furry chest and watching him wrap his brain around what he was feeling with my pussy clenched so tightly around his beautiful cock.

I began moving up and down on his cock, slow, measured strokes. I wiggled my hips every time I hit bottom. He kept twisting and turning his head, trying to escape me watching him. I followed him with my gaze. He grabbed my hips, tried to set the rhythm… I wouldn't let him. I ignored his attempts, and kept up my own pace, in and out with that little wiggle and a clench at the bottom of every stroke.

I reached down to his hands still gripping my hips, still holding me, trying to set pace. I moved my legs down his so I was face to face with him, with my tits on his chest, my feet between his knees and his ankles. I was rubbing my clit all along his cock, bottoming out, a little clench, soaking him down with every stroke. He kept arching his back, lifting his hips, thrusting deeper into me. I was supported completely on his chest, my hands at his on my hips, just moving my hips to rub on his cock.

I grabbed his wrists. His eyes widened again. In one movement I pulled up my knees so I was kneeling again, sat down hard on his cock, pulled his wrists above his head and held him down with my hands. I started pounding my cunt onto his cock fast and hard and deep. I wanted to lean forward and tell him ‘Fuck me NOW’.

He was gone. He was shaking, moaning. I came again, snapping my pussy down hard on his pulsing cock, flooding him. He was soaked. I screwed my cunt down hard on his cock while I came, gripping, throbbing, squeezing his cock hard. He arched his back, roared like an animal and then came, shooting his seed deep into me. I held his hands above his head, twitching and pulsing around him.

****************************************************************************************************

And a tip o'the hat to MonMouth, long may he blog! (from his 2005 blogversary)

On The Way...

It was on the way to Mon’s party. I had stopped to pick the blog-boy up just a little something. I was on my way through the underground station, going up the stairs. Then a queue. Something was happening on the street, but they couldn’t tell us before we started up, no… I stopped along with everyone else.

Because of the amount of people in the stairwell, nobody was moving anywhere. Bodies were pressing into each other. I was breathing the over-perfumed dead-thing of a coat on the woman in front of me. Someone was pressing into me. Because of the angles, I really could not see who it was. It was a man, though, I could tell that, not only from the hardness of his body, but his hand was on the rail next to mine. Large hand, strong hand… Light sprinkling of hair right where the band of his watch met the base of his hand.

The crowd behind me pushed forward slightly. I felt him push into me, centering on my ass. I gasped, pulled my head back from the woman’s coat, afraid I’d smother in the scent of gardenias. I felt his hands, suddenly on my waist. “Steady.” I felt his breath hot against my ear and neck as he pulled me towards him slightly. The woman in front of me turned, smiled and nodded and then turned back around. I had leaned back even further to avoid that hideous coat. He breathed again in my ear, sending shivers throughout my skin.

“So push back again if you mean yes. Otherwise, we’ll just chalk it up to being crowded.” He waited. I took stock of where I was, and what could happen. I also took note of the sudden rush of dampness to my thighs, the pebbling of my nipples. I took a deep breath, feeling his hands strong on my waist. I leaned back, deliberately pushing my ass towards him. He ran his hands down my sides, feeling my hips and my garters through the thin wool of my dress. He ran his tongue along the rim of my ear, again sending a wave across my skin. He pushed his now hard cock into the cleft of my ass, pulling me towards him. I pressed into him.

Suddenly, pressure in the stairwell eased. The crowd above was dispersing, people were moving. I held onto his hands at my waist and we walked up onto the street. He could have easily pulled away… He didn’t. I could have quickly walked away… I didn’t.

We made our way to a small alleyway between the buildings. We moved as far back from the street as we could. “Condom?” He breathed into my neck once again, still behind me. I fumbled in my purse, pulled one out, handed it back to him. He pushed my skirt up to my waist, put my hands on it to hold it, pushed me over ever so slightly. He unzipped his pants. I was turned on enough by this time I could feel my dampness halfway to my knees. Placing a hand on my dolphin tattoo, I heard him open the condom with his teeth, felt his free hand fumble, putting it on. He stroked my tattoo, causing me to shiver again.

Still stroking my tattoo, his other hand ran down the crack of my ass straight into my pussy. He curled his fingers, wiggling them, and made it feel as if there were ten hands stroking me instead of just one. I gasped, pushed back towards him, arching my back. I braced one hand on the wall in front of me, the other was still ridiculously holding my skirt up for him.

He left off stroking my tattoo, and still running his fingers all over my pussy, grabbed the hand still holding my dress. He maneuvered my hand around my hip to my groin, pressing his condom-covered cock into the Y formed where my legs met my ass.

“Touch yourself.” He moved his other hand back to stroke my dolphins, trace their pattern again into my skin. I began to slowly, almost languidly, move my fingers in circles around my clit. The softness of the wool quickly soaked up my juices, became damp in my hand. He began pressing his fingers into me, first one, then two… Then he began stroking. I gasped again, pushed back onto his fingers, quickly catching the rhythm.

His firm cock slowly replaced his fingers. He stretched me, the dampness now seeping down my stocking covered legs towards my shoes. Still stroking my clit, I could feel every inch of him pressing into me, his balls slapping against my ass as he fucked into me. I kept rubbing my clit, lightly, now that he was inside me. I was milking him with my muscles, drawing up then releasing in the rhythm of his fucking. I left off teasing my clit to brace myself fully against the wall, slam my pussy back onto his cock, multiplying the pressure, feeling like I was adding inches to the strokes. He moved into me faster. I couldn’t keep up the contraction of my muscles with the speed of his strokes, gave up trying, instead wildly pulsing around his thick cock.

I came, openmouthed and panting, pressing hard back onto him. His cock swelled, pressed. He shouted his pleasure, once, then groaned, leaning over my back, my neck, pulling me into him, the rhythm unsteady, easing up. He slipped out of me, pushed away. I heard the sound of the condom being pulled off, thrown away down the alley. Then a mouth, hot and hard against my tattoo.

Footsteps, going away towards the street. I pulled my dress down, bent to pick up my purse. Thankfully it hadn’t spilled. I turned, caught a glimpse of a tall man, dark hair, nice suit turning onto the street opposite of where I should have been headed. Making my way to the street on my unsteady knees, I joined the sidewalk crowd, turning right where he had turned left.

It boded well for Mon’s party, I thought.

**************************************************************************************

As I said, I'll write more....soon. Inspired, methinks.

finally, she thought, rubbing her hands together with glee....

2010-08-07T01:13:00.000-04:00

I've wanted one forever. They're hard to come by....
And the best one I was ever able to find was the 1975 version.
I knew someone who had the '75, and it did have more in it, it was thicker and overall a better version, and it still has the varmint recipes, and I could have always spent the $25 or so to get a brand new copy..
Still... I have wanted one forever.
And I just could never justify the $25 for a cookbook that I can honestly say I may never use it.
I have the computer program.
Still...

Well, last weekend, I dragged S.o.s-u with me to Mr. K's, a loverly little used bookstore right down the row from the grocery...
Hey. What can I say? I wanted another copy of Illusions, and thought I might be able to get him to pick something up (and he did... The Hobbit. Insert smile here, Dear Reader) and then, right when I was going to walk out with Ryszard Kapuscinski's The Emperor, I spotted it...
Cooking.
General.
They don't....
There....

I dropped the Kapuscinski, put aside the 'give-away' copy of Illusions (when I find them, I tend to buy multiples. I recommend it. Highly. As a result, I've given away like, 6 copies now of the thing. Get it. Good book. Richard Bach) without letting go of my copy or of S.o.s-u's (hey...gotta warp him. Free-thinking. Must be done.)...
So with a more manageable total, I was able to pick up....

And guess what? It only cost $8. The guy at the counter was laughing at my excitement at finding it. I waxed poetic about the price. He laughed.

And better....

It's the '75 edition.
Anyone for possum?

From the Really? and the W.T.F?!?! files...

2010-08-03T23:58:00.001-04:00

...First,

REALLY? Oh, gee whiz, what have I said all along? HFCS is NOT the same as sugar. Not. Not close, not the same. Different. Very different. And now, via Consumerist, Cancer Cells Get Fat From HFCS Too. I highly recommending reading the blurb (which does distill it down pretty good) on Consumerist, click through for the abstract if you want. I did. It's interesting. And my feelings of vindication continue...

Now,

W.T.F?!?!
So I jumped in the sack with J, right? And I've been sleeping with Sic-un (DUH!) for over 4 years now. Well, there's been one other, too, kinda recently... Let's call him Switch. At least for now. And multitudes of others including the Artist and PB and TD in the past. All in all, I'd say I've been to bed with somewhere around 30-50 people (mainly because I don't want to sit and think actual numbers right now)..A fair number. The named ones above have all wanted, requested, thought it would be really neat if I'd slap on a strap-on and fuck them silly with it. Switch noticed how small my hands are and shivered at the thought of me fisting his ass.
I have slapped on said strap-on for Sic-un. It's not... It's not objectionable. I don't necessarily want to make it a part of my usual day-to-day sex life, but it's not objectionable, it's a bit of a power-trip and yeah, it's a turn-on to a certain degree. And Sic-un and I have made fisting a regular thing, and he's let me do him, it's not just a one-way... However... Beyond Sic-un (and J, which is kind-of neat that he'd actually feel me out on it, so to speak), I haven't discussed ass play with any of them except in the most general terms-and that's usually when they're trying to put their finger up my ass without warning.*

So, why me? What the fuck? Does something about me scream out "Let me dominate you"? 'Cause that's one hell of a domination, that strap-on. Don't think so? You're going to put yourself in THAT VULNERABLE of a position, ass first, with a strap on and someone who admittedly has some issues and you're going to say it's not a domination/submission act? What have you been smoking and can I have some?

Sic-un says it's because I'm actually open to sex in general, and a big follower of the 'If it feels good, and all parties consent, GO FOR IT!' camp. He says that around that kind of attitude, something in the male mind says "Ooooh, lemme lay this fantasy on her," and pretty much says it's a common fantasy and not personal or anything.

But... All the men I've been to bed with recently, even stretching back through Idiot, even TD, even the Artist... They've all come off as being rather butch, kind-of aggressive, they all seem like they have the ability to take control in bed**, and they are all rather decisive people when it comes to likes and dislikes and such, and they will defend their opinions vehemently. So they all come off as kinda tough, and Sic-un is scary-tough (apparently...going grocery with him is a hoot. He gets ready to wedge and the little old ladies get out of his way). But in bed?

It's almost as if they're all asking me to top them. And I don't know why.
I'm not a top. I'm not a bottom. I'm kinda lazy and I like being nurtured in bed, and in return, you'll get some fun fucking times. But the whole role-play thing? D/s? S/m? I get it, but it doesn't really do a whole lot for me except as a kick now and again. I'd rather laugh in bed, not cry. Like anal, like fisting. It's nice... It can be so very very nice... But it's not necessary.

Now, nobody involved has ever made me feel like it's a vitally important thing I get a strap-on and plunder their (collective) asses. But it's been requested. And...strenuously? And often enough that I'm saying WTF... What I'd really like to know is why, meaning not 'Why do you want it?' but moreso "Why do you want it from me?"

Anyone have any clues for me?? Please???? And you can say 'Well, ask them!" all you want, but I have tried and the 2 answers I got were basically "Well, it feels good." I know it feels good. WHY ME IN A STRAP ON? Can't I just get a rubber glove and go play? Can I grab one of the myriad dildos and go to it? Why does it have to be me in a strap-on???? WHY GO TO THE RIDICULOUS????

OK. I feel moderately better. But really. Gimme a clue. Why ME in a strapon???

**********EDIT**********
This is to satisfy a question on this this morning. Anal is NOT MY FAVORITE THING, however, I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO SAY I WANT ANAL BECAUSE IT CAN BE ENJOYABLE.
Thank you.
**********END EDIT**********

*Note on anal: It's not my favorite thing, I have to be either really in  the mood for it or have some sort of numbing agent on hand, but it can  be enjoyable, and I have gone to bed with some people strictly for the  anal.

**I don't necessarily want to be dominated in bed, but I don't want to call all the shots. Honestly? I'd really rather lay back and let you have your way with me and you just let me enjoy the hell out of you getting your thing on, 'cause I can guarantee Darkneuro's Magic Buttons(tm) will get pressed.

stormy weather

2010-07-29T00:54:00.000-04:00

I stood outside in the rain tonight for the first time in over a year. The lightning had stopped by the time the rain started coming down appreciably. There's a difference in the raindrops when it's just misting and then when it's started coming down in earnest, but still gently. The texture of the wet is different. The former just leaves you feeling a bit damp and unsatisfied. The latter runs down your arms and drips down the nape of your neck, gathering the salt from the sweat of the day, diluting it and washing it away.
The latter is a cleansing rain.
The former just makes you feel sticky, especially here. 90% humidity can feel like someone punching you in the chest, and has chased me into air conditioning more than once.
I knew the rain was chasing away the salt in my skin because I could taste it.
I wanted to be on my knees swallowing a pretty dick, the rain coming down all around and on me, feeling the drops on my scalp through my hair, on my shoulders through my shirt, tasting it on my lips, my tongue, saltiness from the rivulets coming down the flesh, soaking up the wet, the damp, the cool into fevered flesh...

Yes, I'm horny.
I'm really really horny.
I want to explore some of my...more complicated fantasies.
Those would be the ones with more than one person. Still... Wanting and having are 2 different things and I shouldn't want more than I have.
Hell, I've got more sex than I can shake a stick at.
I keep expecting to hear James Earl Jones saying "The libido is strong in this one." YES, I know. Silly, but still. I'm walking horny. My brain shuts down my body for a week or so during my period, but only because I don't want to deal with the mess involved, so sex becomes a solitary adventure, played out in the shower or with rubber gloves and a towel. So the libido doesn't quit. Ever. And it's getting worse. I'm starting to look at women the way I do men. That would be the old 'Would you hit it?' question. But every guy in my vicinity. J? Oh my yes. Sos-u? *whine-whine*...J(2)? Ooooh, his gf, too. She's short and cute. Mako, Squishy, hell, even married guys are targeting now. Sic-un? YES, please and thank you.
I feel hungry for flesh and biting and teeth and pounding and sweating and screaming...
The good kind of screaming.

I wonder what J is doing Sunday...

That was interesting!

2010-07-22T00:06:00.000-04:00

So.....
J (on vacation time for the first part of the week) came over last night... Well, actually called while I was at the grocery store, and although I had my cell, it was in the car.
Yeah... This is how much I think about my phone... I left it in the car while I stepped into the store. Forgot I had it with me, actually. Anyway. While I was picking up garlic toast, J was just waking up after a 15 hour nap and wanted to see if I was home for some cameraderie.
I called him back, he was in the shower. He finished, called me back, came over,-- {hold music}...sorry had to get the oil changed...(that was Sic-un. He's right. I did.)--we talked and had crock-pot chili (with NO leftovers!! WOOHOO!) and a couple of drinks and then Sic-un came home from work and ate and we all talked and what not.

WHAT NOT

One thing led to another.
That particular what-not above is J and Sic-un playing geek and showing off all their D&D stuff to each other. As in, "Dude, these are my DICE!" "Oh, DUDE! Are those the cracked crystal series? COOL!" and discussions of campaigns and characters.
Made me want to pull out my +10 Tits of Hypno... Oh. Wait. I did o_0

OH! I was introduced to a new cocktail. A Caramel Apple. Sour Apple Pucker and butterscotch schnapps. Mine was about a 40/60 apple/butterscotch. J's was 60/40. Sic-un abstained, not liking the flavor (he's a Tyrconnell man).
Passes were eventually made and accepted, Sic-un played Fallout3 (again/yet/still) and we (J&I) adjourned to the spare room. It admittedly feels a little weird, just taking someone to bed with Sic-un right there, but I have a distinct feeling that I will get over that in short order.

Anyway.

He can't kiss worth a hill o'beans. GREAT hands. Really great hands, and I really like his bite technique. My neck is almost invisibly bruised from that bite technique. No hickey, just... bruised. Right there, on that tendon/muscle arrangement. Yeah. There... Where my lanyard for work rests all day? Feel-good sore, but still a smidge sore.
Nicely sized, and you know what? He has a pretty dick. It's just cute. It curves up really nicely, and it's kinda thin, longer than he said it was, and it's really well shaped, except for one unfortunate part: The doctor or nurse or whoever circumcised him should be shot. His frenulum is scarred, to the point of affecting sensation, so although he can pretty much go and go and go (can we say Battery Bunny?), part of the ability to do so lies with scar tissue and nerve damage. And that's sad, 'cause he's a hoot and I want him to feel really good.
He likes blow jobs and complimented my technique.
Sic-un? Honey? One of the reasons you get teeth when I go down on you is because of your width and I have a relatively small mouth.
This means J didn't get teeth and complimented me on my technique. I enjoyed that, very much. Gave me warm fuzzy glows to know I haven't lost it.. I've only honed my love of fellatio on narrow-dicked men.
He fucks well. Strong, good hips, and a very steady rhythm.
He does need to learn a couple things: He needs to learn how to kiss. Admittedly I'm now one of his "Can count the # of women I've had sex with on one hand!" women now, but he really needs to learn how to kiss. And he needs to learn to give up some control of rhythm if he ever says 'Ride 'em, cowgirl!' again. I wanna grind when I'm on top, and it's a little hard to grind with a very steady rhythm going from down below. The only other complaint I have is that it is now OFFICIALLY My!Experience! that once guys find out a) you are multi-orgasmic and b) it doesn't take much to make you cum if the hit JUST the right spot, they will treat you like a dog with a bone worrying over marrow. Which is to say I came and came and came and came and came and came again, not because I am or was particularly overwhelmingly crazed with sex, but because I think he made it his mission to find Darkneuro's magic buttons and then shamelessly exploited the knowledge.
Anyway. We are in accord: A ~~good~~ GREAT time was had. A fun time was had. And we are also in accord that 'time' will (most likely) be repeated.

And then I went to bed at 5:30am and had to get up at 8:30am. So now I'm tired.
Really tired.
And there's your story for the evening. Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite. They're nasty little things.

Playing with photoshop...

2010-07-17T15:07:00.003-04:00

....besides, I like my feet and legs in these jeans....

Gotta share!

2010-07-15T21:50:00.000-04:00

Infographic by Smarter.org

Madness!

2010-07-14T22:29:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I feel completely mad and it's driving me crazy. Not mad angry-mad, but 'mad' sounded quite nasally, with an affected accent, you know... Off the rocker but not completely batshit crazy? A bit of an-(that's the other fucking thing! When I write, it sounds like I'm reading it in a british accent all the time. I'M NOT BRITISH--although I do one hell of an accent, but that's besides the point... W.T.F?!?!?!) a bit of an odd duck, certainly someone who may benefit from counsel, but is not herself dangerous....You know? The dotty aunt that wore turbans; the gent who becomes obsessive-compulsive about his lawn in his retirement years... that sort, not the apeshit hearing voices in the walls crazy, no not that far... I mean the madness.
I do feel this way sometimes and it really frustrates me. I start having conversations with myself that will never ever happen in real life, imagining the 'other' answer, hearing it in my head exactly as it would be in that situation from that person. And it's always with people that I can readily identify. I know these people, so it's not like I'm talking to Jim Morrison or Shakespeare or anything, and I certainly understand the Elvis look-alike is ... a look-alike. I'm not stupid about this. And no, that hesitation was not questioning that particular belief. I was going to say pretty fucking hilarious. But I'm not stupid about it. I know it's in my head.
I just... I understand I'm not crazy (batshit). I understand what I am hearing in my head is not real. I understand that the conversations taking place will never take place because it just won't come up, either the subject or the subject with that person-- I mean, why would I be having a pretty damn lively conversation about what tequila was the best for amaretto 'ritas with X person I know because they come up and talk to me at work?

Oh. Sorry. Did that last sound a bit...peevish? I'll explain:
There are several people at work within my 'realm of understanding' with whom I have conversations with, who would consider me to be their friend, who see no problem in coming up and hugging me or touching my hair or playing with my ear that I really do have conversations with... I only talk to them because they talk to me. I don't... I don't care, really. I don't work in the same campaign as they do, I may have said something when asked for a response at one time, but I really don't remember--I mean something as simple as 'What time is it?' or 'Can I borrow a light?'--They seem to think I'm one of their closest friends because I happened to be kind to them at one time. I will NEVER have this strange little conversation with this person type conversations are going on in my head and it's driving me crazy!

I don't want that to sound mean. I'm not, generally speaking, a mean person. People get tedious, though, especially if I don't consider them to be a friend, if not a friend-friend (J, Mako, J(2), Squishy, L&D). I mean that I don't care, particularly, that that one girl? In that campaign? What'sherface? (shows how well I know her!) Yeah... She's getting married. Not only that, but I can tell you the name of her fiance and all the BS she's put herself through to get married. My opinion says most of it is due to her own assumptions and ignorance, but (insert shrug here)... She comes up, I'm nice, she talks to me. Not with me... Mako? We talk. This girl? Who really wanted me to go to her family&close family friends invited-only wedding? She talks to me.

I suppose it's part and parcel of being such an introvert for so very long. I'm afraid, somehow, of alternately saying the wrong thing or saying something so unbearably witty I'll have to make a repeat appearance or something. I usually feel very gauche, but cover it well, I guess. The voices in my head are there though. And I do make up characters in my head.... They come in sometimes. That's fun. And they all have malleable histories...

Hm. That's a thought.

I will let the idea percolate for a bit...perhaps a smidge. Maybe I'll take some of those characters and some of those conversations and write out the various movies in my head... What do I see, what do I hear, that sort.... Maybe get a readable story or two. Hm.

tales from the fourth....

2010-07-09T23:27:00.000-04:00

Hi! How are all of you?
I'm good, for the most part. An eventful 4th weekend, then I spent Tuesday locked into migraine hellishness while at work (but I stuck it through!), got home to where I could take care of the 1/2 of my head that was not well and thought all was well...
Until Thursday.
Ever feel your head explode? I had been 1/2 expecting a return of the migraine, just because Tuesday, although long and drawn-out and annoying as fuck, really hadn't been a bad migraine. Thursday was bad. I was showering. SHOWERING... And then my head exploded. Sparkles, halos, sound...I almost threw up, was able to get to the water to turn it to ice fast enough so I didn't.... Not good.
Then this morning my digestion decided to attack.
Again...not good.
So now I'm back on write-ups at work upon my return on Monday, but I seem to have survived. Still a little wonky on the stomach, and I'm really happy we have some phenergan in the house.
So that was this past week... On to the 4th weekend, shall we?
***
Sos-u had been here since... Wednesday? Yeah, Wednesday. Cool 'nuff. He mowed the lawn, did dishes (he did dishes!!!!) and was actually really genial. I enjoyed having him around to blather to (I always have a tendency to talk to myself...another person there means I have someone to talk with instead of in my own head). Dos-u, charming girl, quite a knockout, smart, etc etc etc (hey, they're both GORGEOUS kids... Sic-un's genes passed on well!) decided she wanted a tattoo. I had kinda planned on doing that on the 4th, and then having her and Sos-u for dinner (turkey in flat bread on the grill) and invited up J for some barbecue/social-life, but due to protestations on his part, didn't really expect him.
Dos-u happened Saturday, turned out well, purely in my opinion, of course. Of course, I am still freaking out about it a bit...I tattooed my painted-man's daughter!!!!, but it's all well and good and I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I would be. It's been awhile since I've picked up a machine.
It's also been awhile since I had my skin completely and utterly sensitized by someone. That happened Friday? No... Saturday night. And well into Sunday morning. The whole sharing me about thing has Sic-un quite randy and performing WELL ABOVE any expectations I ever had of him sexually.
What does this sensitizing mean, you may be wondering...
...
It means that every inch of my skin was so sensitive to touch that I was having small orgasms on an almost continual basis for about 24 hours or so. While my brain is still laughing with absolute glee, my abdominal muscles hated me for quite some time.
What did this mean for the 4th? Please note: everything that happened to me was with my full consent and my full acknowledgment. I was quite aware of what was going on, and enjoyed it quite a bit.
It means that Sic-un and Sos-u saw fit to torment me at every opportunity all day Sunday. Yes, Sos-u. Still underage, but will be absolutely no contest when I see fit to take him to bed. I am firm in that belief. So there I was getting dinner together, happily cumming at every turn...
J showed up.
Oh boy.
I'm the walking orgasmatron and you're gonna dangle that in front o'me? Oh! My! Stars!
One thing and another, some great food, great company, J was let in on the 'Oh, gee, look what Darkneuro does when you touch her!' and took great advantage.
He was petting my hair (well, finger-combing it while I leaned up against him) and basically told me that yes, indeed, I am once again right... His morals won't really let him fall into bed with me without some intoxication taking place.
Specifically, "I know you're open territory, but you're claimed territory. But I can be talked into you very easily, I just have to release some inhibitions, you know?"
Not hard to intoxicate the poor boy (he's 27). Really, it's not.
The question becomes "Do I want to go to that length to get a bit of strange?"
Another potential...
Not a road-block, but something to take into consideration:

Sos-u is well aware that his birthday is to be a rather monumentous occasion, seeing as how he will then be 18. He knows I want his pretty little ass in bed, he knows I have his father's full support. He's in full agreement with the whole scheme and is rather looking forward to it, right? That was made abundantly clear.
He got kinda tight-lipped when I concentrated on J Sunday. And I noticed it also when I concentrated on Sic-un, at least to a small degree. I don't think he's aware that he's doing it, he is kinda obtuse (part of my warping plan is to turn the kid into a free-thinker), and he's ... I don't think he's as self-aware as I was at that age, if that makes any sense. Just like I don't think he was aware he was checking out Mako when she met him (it was cute! He would look at the tv, look at Mako. Tv, tv, tv, Mako, Tv, tv, tv, Mako, Mako, Tv), completely unaware of what he's doing when he's doing it.
Sic-un and I discussed this...Mako and I discussed this as well (as well as giving me some INCREDIBLE advice...it really does help to get another input into my Machiavellian schemes), and basically with the whole 'teach him to be a free-thinker' I'm planning on, he's going to see that I am not some kind of bone to be fought over, I am my own person.

I am not 'Sic-un's'. I am 'Darkneuro's', and I allow myself to enjoy and to be enjoyed by other people, especially Sic-un. If I allow myself J, then I will do so, just as I have decided to allow myself Sos-u in January...If all parties are in agreement, then there is no question. I don't 'belong' to anyone except myself. This has been a hard-won battle. I don't want him to be jealous. I want him to enjoy the feast, does that make sense? Of course, it goes without saying that those who read or have read Heinlein will know exactly what I'm talking about. That sort of Utopia, you know?

It was also very very cute when Sos-u mentioned he had been a pudgy baby and Sic-un leapt from the couch to grab his photo album while saying "Oh yes he was!" in the gooiest, juiciest "Wook at de widdle bayyybeeeee!" voice you could ever imagine. I laughed... here's this 6' tall heavily tattooed, shaved headed, bearded classic 'biker' leaping over the back of the couch to get a photo album to show off pictures of his 'widdle bayyybeee!' who's actually 6'2" and quite athletic... I had to laugh, you see...It was so incongruous, so unexpected, just that tone of voice and the energy to show off baby pictures...

A good time was had by all, and I don't want to be that sensitive for quite some time (January, say? Yes, insert an evil grin right here, lads and ladies), but I gotta decide if I want to get J in bed bad enough to work for it (and it would be work, to a certain degree. Scheduling issues), and I have to decide how exactly to approach the great Warping of Sos-u. He's 17. He has... He's smart, but the friends he has surrounded himself with don't appear to be, so he gets lost in the faddishness of being 17. And stuck in the boondocks... That's a bit of a problem, as is his.... reticence? yeah, his reticence to read is a factor too... It will be hard work.
Still...I'm up to the challenge.
How was your 4th?

Bad form!

2010-06-29T02:12:00.002-04:00

Remember, kids: If you're going to go on a 'booty call', call first.

Sic-un's Ex#2 showed up tonight.
Oh yeah.
Showed up. Pulled up to the front of the house at 11:30 at night and officiously waved Sic-un over to her truck.
He asked if he could take her to the spare room.
Whatever. Whatever. Sic-un and I have talked about this. We wouldn't do this to each other, invite a fuck over for fucking while the other is there without a discussion or agreement first. We've talked this out.
Unfortunately, neither one of us even thought about the fuck taking it upon themselves to be so ill-mannered as to come over to the house in the middle of the night to say "OOoh, I'm horny!"
I said whatever.
Once, I'll say "Whatever."
But after this once?
If she shows up again without calling first, without arranging it first, she's getting a golf club up the side of her head if she steps one foot into this house that I pay money for each month.
Sic-un and I, we're OK. We are. I'm not angry he... I'm not angry another woman had him in bed. I'm not. I can't be. I CAN NOT BE PISSED ABOUT HIM GOING TO BED WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
A little strange never hurt anyone. Ever. I'm OK with him going to bed with someone else.

This is what pisses me off about this...
I have never NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER gone out to get laid from a fuck buddy without calling first.
And if some fuck had waved me over to their vehicle to tell me they're horny? Oh, honey... You treat me like a whore you're gonna get treated like a john. And it's cash up front, thanks much.
She comes off... Her family has been in the area forever. Old area name. As in "They have street names named after her family". There's a certain cachet that comes with being an old name in the area around here. And the old saw about "Southern manners" is true, really. People say please and thank you and hold open doors for you and all that bit...
Apparently, nobody has ever said "CALL FIRST".
Which leads to this stalkerish behavior. Yes, I said stalkerish. I asked Sic-un (after I had gone to the store to get out of this house while they did whatever...if I had seen her, I would have punched her, just for the bad manners-anyway, she left apparently in tears) what would have happened if we didn't just happen to be outside when she drove by... He said she probably would have parked and waited until he came outside to smoke.
Stalkerish.
She has his number. Both of them (house phone and cell). She has his email. SHE KNOWS I HAVE GIVEN MY OK TO THEM FUCKING EACH OTHER.
No reason to not call. No reason to not email.
None.
Stalkerish.
And bad manners!

I've had bed buddies. I've had fuck buddies. I've had meet-ups just for sex. YOU CALL FIRST.

I don't mind him going to bed with someone else. I did manage to point out that J is rather good-looking, and the other is really pretty too, and ...well, Ex-wife#2 isn't. That made it just funny. If he had a good-looking chick, I may have asked to join in. But that? Ew. Eww. Bleh.

And the manners. Just...

Now I have the image of Hoffman dressed as Captain Hook saying "Bad form! Bad form!" in my head. Truly bad manners to not call first.

Full Moon...

2010-06-25T02:26:00.004-04:00

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Soapboxin'

2010-06-20T14:29:00.003-04:00

There's an essay in today's Wall Street Journal that really tries to encourage having children. Funny thing is that it's almost apologetic about it. It pretty much says "Yes, this study shows that you're not as happy with children as you are without, but the number is really really small!" and then it tries to explain why everyone out there should have children.

This sort of thing really pisses me off. Look, if YOU have children, YOU have fun with that. Go right ahead. I know you do. I know you adore your children and there's the old saw that the world's best child does exist...every mother has it (insert rimshot here) and all that, but really? You know, some people out there (me) have decided to NOT have kids (me!) for whatever reasons, but it's their (mine!) choice. And no amount of argument from someone in love with the idea or reality of having kids can change my mind. And quite frankly, if the best you can come up with is "Well, you'll be only slightly less happy with kids than without!"....Ain't no argument, sorry.

Everyone always brings up population sustainability, that it takes (supposedly) 2.1 kids to replace each of us. Um, no. Your math is wrong. REPLACEMENT=1:1. Not 1:2.1. And aren't we overpopulated? Haven't they pretty much determined that with our current levels of usage, we're in severe danger of eating ourselves out of house and home? We're using our spaceship most strenuously and you want me to have children? You espouse children as some kind of miracle of happiness even when they actually did a study that proved you're happier without kids?

Someone isn't thinking clearly. Of course, I do take the stance that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, this isn't just 'This is my opinion." This is genuine encouragement to have kids. WHY? We're shitting in our own backyards, people! We're running out of food in that distribution resources are so disparate there is no guarantee you'll have food. How many 'people starving in [insert country here]' articles, pictures and exhortations do we need to see that we are killing our own kind? But this isn't a bullet in the head, people. This is the slow death. Millennia, even.

I don't have children. I don't want children. Even as a child, when all little girls are planning their weddings and what castle they're going to live in and 'this is my baby' doll play... All my dolls? They were dolls. Intellectually and emotionally, they were dolls. Just dolls. I knew I didn't want children. Not for not liking other kids. Hell, I was one! But I never had the emotional connection to being 'a child'. As a result, I tend to treat children as if they were older than they are.

So I talk to kids as if they were intelligent, short adults. Strike one. Strike two becomes "I am afraid of the medical legacy I would leave my children." Genetic misfires here, people. Circulatory, cancer histories...hell, The women in my family have severe problems with their thyroids. Pretty much all of them. I'm not healthy stock. And circulatory is everything from the hypertension on my mom's side to the heart disease on dad's. I'm waiting for my own ticking time-bombs to go off and this writer for the WSJ wants me to pass them on to other people? What did these hypothetical future-people ever do to me???

I have a couple of balls and a strike left, to continue the baseball metaphor. Ball One is "I'm incredibly selfish." I don't want to spend what little money I have on a kid, pure and simple. I don't want to say "Um, no, can't do anything today/tonight, I have a child." Kids cost money, I have limited money, and although my whole attitude has been "More would be nice, but I have enough. I have enough for a bus ticket anywhere," kids would throw a wrench into my whole carefully constructed free lifestyle. Yes, free. I can pick up at any time and go anywhere, within the limitations I have in place (work, money). Do I have enough to take care of ME? And the answer is 'Yes'.

Ball Two: Silly as it sounds, I have a weak stomach. Little Sis left the ConMan with me as an infant. He was in need of a diaper change. I puked 6 times in the 30 minutes it took me to change his dirty diaper. Spit up? Oh no, ain' gonna go there. Don't wanna see. Move along. And really: I know what morning sickness feels like. I've had it. Previous experience. Nono... When you get pregnant, you gain weight, right? I gained 30 pounds the first month I was on the pill. Here's the irony: I actually lost 13 pounds the first month I was pregnant, then another 18 the 2nd month. I didn't eat. I couldn't. I could eat crackers and sip ice cold water. That's it. Death by starvation is not my favorite imagined way to die (fucked to death! That's the way to go! Gently, slowly fucked to death at the age of 100!). So I'd risk death having a kid*. Um, no. Can't make me.

Strike Three: The one that loses this oh-so-handy baseball metaphor is, of course, my greatest fear with children of any stripe... "I'm afraid I would kill them somehow." I say somehow because there's an awful lot of accidental killings. The person that forgets the baby carrier on the top of the car and drives off? Yeah. I can see myself doing that. But I can also see myself getting angry enough at a child to hurt it, physically. And nobody ever deserves that, so.

No kids for me, thanks much. But thanks for sharing. Thanks for espousing straining our already taxed resources to their breaking point to 'replicate'... I still say Population Decline isn't such a bad thing. We've got computer models... What's the point of no return? Estimates of the bottleneck due to the Toba Event were down around 10-15,000. Our current? The World Bank thinks in 2008 it was 6,697,254,041. And we're growing. Although some areas have approached negative growth, others have not. And the Gasoline Age has changed some of the ones from negative to positive.

Now... I'm selfish, I have a really bad tendency to talk to children like they're adults, I'll pass on a whole host of medical issues to said child (or children...twins run in my family), and it is possible, even probable to some extent that I will seriously damage that child.
Yeah. I want a dozen. You wanna pay for them?

(putting away soapbox)

*I came back from college, fell in bed with someone, the condom had a pinhole in it. I knew I was pregnant that night (no, really!) but ended up denying it to myself until I was 9 weeks pregnant for the first doctor visit and then thanks to Reaganomics, I couldn't get an abortion through Dad's insurance, which threw me dangerously close to the 2nd trimester "we'll have to involve hospital and you'll have to pay for it all" stage.
I couldn't be pregnant. I was the golden child. It just wasn't happening. My period would show up. I went through 30 pregnancy tests.
I was ill. Physically ill, from the moment I woke up until I went to sleep (thank you, brandy. couldn't have slept without you!). I hurt constantly, every inch of my body. My hair hurt. I would accidentally touch one part of my body with something and it would hurt. I had to move and function and appear as if everything were fine and it wasn't. I was in constant pain, constant nausea. I couldn't eat ANYTHING. Milk would be the worst thing. Crackers and ice water (like, 2-3 crackers a day and ice water sipped). I was in severe denial, and ended up counting days maniacally. End of the 8th week, when my period was supposed to have been and gone... I tell my parents, I'm in no shape financially, emotionally or physically to have this child. An appointment was made.
Five years later, my boyfriend at the time decided to take dis-advantage when I was out of my head. My motto had been 'No glove, no love', and it chafed him. TaDAAAA. Really bad to wake up from a pass-out kick ass trip to go 'Oh fuck. I've felt that before. OH.FUCK' and just know with every fiber of your being sperm met egg. I went to the doctor after 2 weeks of feeling like utter shit (hair hurting? Check. Hurts to cut your fingernails....Yep. You're PREGNANT!!!!).

One last post-script... This is rather apropos coming out today. My period was late. I'm on day 45 out of an 21 day cycle. I've taken 2 pregnancy tests, knowing full and completely well that they were negative. I don't mind wasting the $6.99... For the first pregnancy? The 30 test? Yeah. 17.99 per test. You do the math. That's how far skinflint/cheapskate me was in denial. So I was being proactive. We (Sic-un and I) aren't... We don't use anything, but the only time he comes in me is within the first week after my period stops, assuming it goes 4-6 days. Otherwise, it's Splattertown, and I'm good with that. I don't feel in any danger from the supposed hit or miss of the 'rhythm' method. I feel myself ovulate, I know when that happens (and I'm never wrong. I've also ovulated and not had periods, which is what kind of happened this last time). This last time? May (checking calendar) 22? Spotted, for maybe an hour. I don't count that, not really, but it was on time and I had ovulated. This time? Last Monday was ovulation. Caused a low-level migraine but I'm not missing work for it. Today? TaDAAAAAA! Not pregnant. You can figure it out. I've already spent way too much time being Ms. TMI.
And then this article.
Really? You want me to have kids? Sure now?

i found a picture of you....

2010-06-11T01:34:00.001-04:00

It's always a bit disquieting to me to go through old pictures. People I will never see again, places I can never go again, it's all really quite maudlin. Or at least it always seems that way to me, going through my own pictures. Now, other people's pictures, that's another story. I love going to antique stores and flipping through the pictures. Someone else's life. You can make up stories to go along with the pictures. "This is the summer they finally made it to the beach without Aunt Margaret complaining all the time. Of course, her and Uncle Harry were in Boca that year..."
I ended up last night showing Mako some of the people I've known in the past. I wanted her to see part of what I was, part of who went into me, part of that which is me. There was George, that bad picture of TD, IdiotBoy (of course!)...I didn't show her PB, nor did I show her mine own Archangel (and you won't see him either. Scout's honor.). They were in the other box.

They were in the other box.... So let's go through, shall we? Both boxes, this time?

George(1)... I hesitate to say his last name, to out him in so public a forum, frankly. Reduce my liability and all that. I will say I was taking some good pictures back then. Walked around with my dad's old Yashica around my neck snapping whatever pictures struck my fancy. I could handle that SLR like nobody's business. Met him at Rocky, he was wearing leather armor (YUM!) and we basically fell into bed for a couple of weeks. Through him I met Dwayne (no pictures of him, sorry) and ended up with Dwayne for about 8 months or so.
TD(3)... One of the very few pictures of him I have. There's another one, you can at least see some of his face, kinda... oooh boy. He was... I won't say he was a mistake, but I should have run far and fast. This was at Donna's in Albuquerque. It's all well and good to say I should have run, but I didn't. I ended up wasting a lot of my time with him, learned how to NOT treat people, got some incredible orgasms and learned very hard and very fast that I couldn't count on anyone, really, beyond myself, at least at that time. And when it comes down to it now, I can count on the fingers of one hand now who I can guarantee would be there if I made it absolutely clear I need you. I live with one, Mako is another. TD was very definitely NOT one I could count on. It goes without saying I turned him over to the universe to take care of. He wasn't worth the karmic debt.
Ah, Peter (2). One of my gays. Great kisser. Yes, I said he was gay and yes, I said he was a great kisser. We ended up on his couch one night after bar. It started in the bar, to be sure, and wasn't really the alcohol, although that lubed things, so to speak. It was the music and the mood of the night and the whole "What the fuck!" about just everything... I was 'on', he was, too. Great kisser. Last I heard from him, he was in Albq, living with someone (yay!), T-cells still at good levels. I fear he is dead now and I miss him very much.
Graduation!(4) Mine, that is, as if you couldn't tell. He is my best friend of the time, Jasen. He, I fear, is caught balls deep in a bad relationship. I reached out and was rebuffed twice, which stung very badly. I say bad relationship, but I really mean cruel, abusive, obsessive and toxic. Still. Twice, and then rebuffed, and no way to get ahold of him. Sad sort of write off, and the type I hate the most. My nurturing instincts cringe. Still, it was a happy day. And I looked good. My hair behaved!
Ah...The artist (5). I won't say his name, mainly because he is the ONLY guy I have EVER met who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone and you can't ever get away from knowing someone who knows him or knows of him. I was here for Sis' wedding and met someone at the wedding who knew him. I was in fucking JAPAN and met someone who knew him (at the food court area, Atsugi, during one of my many walks)... Forget Kevin Bacon, it really should be 6 degrees from this guy. So. That's that guy. He kinda pissed me off. Has a real desire to be really passionate about everything, but ends up not having a passion about anything because he is so very jaded at such a young age. Oh, but THAT'S another thing!! Fucker showed me a very very good fake id. HE WAS A MINOR! I could have gone to jail! Fucker!
PB. (6) Only 2 pictures I have of him. I worry about him, I hope he is ok. He is a very shining soul. He basically disappeared. I'm letting him stay disappeared, but I know where he's at. He's held a place since I was 12. Will always, but.
But.
One of the games I play with myself is 'What would I do if X walked through the door?' With PB the answer is I don't really know. I'd like to trip him again and beat him to the floor. Just thinkin' about him turns me on. I wouldn't leave Sic-un for him, I know that. Sic-un is stalwart, steadfast,stickier than static cling, thank the god/dess. I can trust Sic-un, easy. He's mine. PB? Um. Hm. Depends. Is he gonna stick around again or is he gonna disappear again?
Craig. (7)Beautiful Craig. He liked to tease, but had no libido for women. Gorgeous, though. Smart, fun, witty. That was out at the cruise area in 1990. We went to go laugh at the lizards picking up young, gorgeous trannies. Fun times...
Jeff. (8)Oh, and Ed's in the picture too. Jeff. He was hung like a horse and didn't know thing one about using it. I still managed to get off, but it was a hit-or-miss proposition. Great guy, though. Marriage material, definitely. He'd be a great father, too. Laid back, one hell of a kisser. Gave me my worst hickey ever. I looked like I had been punched. My upper lip was solid black on the left side and the bruise from the hickey went up to just below my EYE. Beer drinker. Tip for beer drinkers: Eat cucumbers and pineapple and drink apple juice to kill the taste of beer in your cum. Please.
Another of the Artist...(9)
High school grad pic.(10) yours truly. Mako said she'd do me at 18. Hell, I'd do me at 18! I was cute! Hate the hair, though. Don't remember it being that... fluffy.
Dave... (11)Hot kisser. Clingy girlfriend, hot kisser. Figures, doesn't it?
The Last (12). Won't waste more time on him. He had 10 years of me. That's enough.

And oh, look... There's Con-man mowing the snow that one winter. And my Bear-baby, beautiful lady. Miss your softness, Suzbear, need your chin-nip.

See? Maudlin.

Things skittering...

2010-06-03T00:12:00.001-04:00

...across my consciousness... These are images my camera has recently taken.

Let's start with the obvious., shall we?

I love the man attached to the ass, and I love this ass (especially in 501's)

Let's not mention the chaps framing that loverly ass

Next up are 2 images that just flabbergasted me in May. The first is from Discovery....

(ahem) If they're pursuing, wouldn't that mean they were running? If they're running, how can they be viscous?

And the next is from one of the public broadcasting affiliates in the area. I suppose I should feel lucky...we not only get the PBS from Knoxville, but we get a channel called create! that's run by one of the public tv conglomerates and our friends at WGBH (c'mon...I watched ZOOM!) and then there's another PBS we get (it's 202, 203 and 204 on our Cablemonster)...This is from create!

It irks me. I grew up on PBS. This is just a very icky bit of text, isn't it?

And finally, my favorite out of the bunch...

We've had fog. And now?

Promised....

2010-05-27T21:58:00.000-04:00

2010-05-26T22:30:00.002-04:00

Here comes the woman with the look in her eye
Raised on leather with flesh on my mind
Words as weapons, sharper than knives
Makes you wonder how the other half die
Other half die, makes you wonder

But here comes the man with the look in his eye
Fed on nothing but full of pride
Look at them go, look at them kick
Makes you wonder how the other half live

The devil inside, the devil inside
Every single one of us, the devil inside
The devil inside, the devil inside
Every single one of us, the devil inside

Here comes the world with the look in its eye
Future uncertain, but certainly slight
Look at the faces, listen to the bells
It's hard to believe we need a place called hell
A place called hell

Here comes the woman with the look in her eye
She's raised on leather with flesh on her mind
Words as weapons, sharper than knives
Makes you wonder how the other half die

I'm really lucky. I have a man who loves me to distraction, a job where I'm actually sweating 3 hours out of 8 (REALLY! It's GREAT! I've dropped a size already!), I have a roof over my head, drink in hand, tunes on the headphones (really really loud!), food in the fridge and a little (not much, but enough so I won't starve and can afford a bus ticket anywhere) money in the bank.
I still want.

I WANT.

The joy of my wanting is that I know I will (eventually) get what I want, even if I have to break a sweat to do it.
I spoke previous post about the 4 of 6 potential fucks.

M is fully aware of our (Sic-un&I) ideas, thoughts and potential intentions. He was here. His problem (and it is surmountable, according to him) is purely moral and has to do with "That's my friend's girl!", but seeing Sic-un OK with the whole thing, (encouraging, really) will come around. Eventually. To wit: "If the kid wasn't here, yeah. I'd be all over it." We've all been friends an awful long time, Sic-un more so than me.
He is, however, the one I can see most being disappointed with, if that makes sense. He is, by his own admission, rather...lacking? in the equipment area. I say small men try harder as a general rule of thumb, but I *have* been disappointed in the past. Yet still I remain optimistic. The glass is half empty, but...Perhaps there is more?

J, the 'baby-waiter', is somewhat cognizant of our relationship rulings (to be specific [ahem]: "I'm very very lucky. He is of a like mind. We both understand a little 'strange' never hurt anybody."). Now, I should add. All thanks to a rather illuminating conversation earlier today with him.
We've been 'hitting on' each other. You tap them with your clenched fist. Note: I said "tap" not "pummel". One of those 'How ya doin', buddy?' taps, you know? I kept tapping him, he kept tapping me. Hitting on each other, you know? So then he starts pounding my back. I warned him he was in danger of being propositioned. Then he scratched my back, lightly, and right above my bra strap. I said "Ok. Now you're in serious danger of being propositioned." He laughed, kept scratching, made mention of being infamous for his backrubs, and looked about. Break was over, I was on my way in, he was on his way in, we went in, he mentioned Sic-un, I said something along the lines of "...the joys of an 'open' relationship. Do what you like, don't let them follow you home" or something like, he said something very akin to 'Really? How very cool.' and then I said the bit of the strange. SO. He's aware, somewhat, of where me & Sic-un are with things. And not adverse, if I'm reading the signs in hte correct manner.

The minor, because he is: NOT UNTIL HE IS 18. I have made that decision. He finds out the next time he's over. Which gives him until January before I turn it on full guns and he gets bowled over. Or not, there is free will, after all.
(Who chained up Will? Dunno. Free him.) Sorry. I'm drinking. I'm tipsy. I like vodka and cherry limeade.
Ahem. before the tangent....
He has full right to refuse what I will knowingly offer him. I *WILL* accept "Um, no." as an answer. Everyone has that right. And the reason he feels kinda oogish about it is due to where I am in his world. But upon 18, he's target.

The other is (to the best of my knowledge) completely unaware of potentiality, methinks. He is attached to someone, afterall. So I hold little... Not regard, not hope...I hold little anticipation of anything happening with him.

Ooooh.....themesong....

So that's where things stand.

We (Sic-un and I) know we're together. Don't leave me for them, please. And we're up front about it, and we'll be up front about it with whomever enters the picture as a fuck-buddy.

A little strange never hurt anyone, as long as both partners are fully aware of what's going on.

In other news, I did a home hack-job on the hair. I have received nothing but compliments. I'll take a picture when I'm sober and freshly showered. Read that as tomorrow morning, with a post tomorrow night.
Now.
It's time for pop rocks.

Hrm.

2010-05-23T19:42:00.002-04:00

Got schnockered last night. M came up, haven't seen him in a bit. And S.o.s-u was here. Interesting times. M brought scoobies (rum&coke) and Bushmill's. We ordered pizza and just sat getting drunk and horny. After M left, Sic-un and I took full advantage of the cleaned-out closet and the swing-set.
If S.o.s-u hadn't been here, M would have tricked me out on the swing-set. He as much admitted being ready to overthrow any moralistic objections there would be on his part, but for the presence of S.o.s-u.

Next Sunday may be 'Let's go to the drive-in' with M and perhaps getting tricked out on the swing-set.
Sic-un wants to have sloppy seconds and I'm game too. I have no moralistic objections to M.
This is important.
I have 5 people right off hand other than M that I could probably get into bed very, very easy.
One has a girlfriend, one is waiting to see if his ex-wife is soon to be baby-momma, one is under-age and the other 2... Um. I personally would rather not, but probably could, for what that's worth.
A little strange never hurt anybody, as long as all parties are fully cognizant of what's going on, and I'm not talking about putting on the rubber gloves, although that may not hurt for at least a few fantasies.
So what's to stop it? It, of course, being my part in all this, with all things taken into consideration.

Ick factor for the under-age... On his part. And nothing too strenuous, just the whole idea of me being who I am and my position in his world. Me? Um. Hm. He's real pretty to look at, lemme put it that way. I still envision him telling 'an adult' that something went on, though. Perhaps as a birthday present? For him?

The one with a girlfriend...She's more serious about it than he is. They're living together but only because the girlfriend lost her job and has a kid from a previous relationship and had nowhere else to go (according to the potential target). To him, as soon as she's got a job and is on her feet, away she goes. I don't think she sees it that way, though, and appears to be in no hurry to find said job.
Baby-daddies can be hard to find here in the buckle of the Bible Belt, and she comes pre-loaded with kid feature. He doesn't particularly want to be baby-daddy, according to him. But it does make for a bit of a sticky wicket. Although he is tall (very tall) and whip-thin but very, very muscular at the same time. Hairy back, though. I'm hesitant due to the girlfriend. I don't want to get in the middle of that.

As for the one waiting to see if he will be baby-daddy... He's cute. He's over-age. He's lost what bit of pudge he had due to ex-wife. He's...interested, if I can read the vibe right. I think there may be a bit of the moralistic thing going on with him. I, after all, somehow belong to Sic-un. Perhaps...hm.
My Japanese shark knows him. Shall I ping her for a 'Whaddya think?'

What do you think, oh Great Blogosphere? For what it's worth, I mean. Keep in mind nobody above mentioned should be very hard to get into bed at all. And it wouldn't be a case of Sic-un watching...he's already made mention of the fact that he wouldn't participate in the outside activities, he would just... well... He would just clean up after the fact, so to speak.
Heh. I'd post pictures of them, but that would be tacky to the extreme, methinks.
So. Out of 6, interested in 4 of them.
M would be easy.
The under-age a little more work and there's still the '6 months until he's no longer under-age'.
Girlfriend for the taller of them.
One is waiting for baby judgment.
Looks-wise, the under-ager is the prettiest. Then kindof a tie for the tallest and the waiting for baby one. They both have their really good points, but they both have bad points (tallest=hairy back, baby-daddy=kinda wishy-washy). Then M, but to be fair, M is the oldest of the 4, he is losing his hair (premature male pattern baldness is NOT a nice thing to pass on to your children), and he has a tech support job (therefore the spare tech-tire).
To rate for ease of predation (for lack of a better term), from easiest to hardest, I'm thinking M, baby-waiter, the under-age, then girlfriend-heavy.
Opinions gathered here. Gimme direction, people.
And order in with Superior, working on finishing the fan next weekend (Friday through Monday off work).

R.I.P.

2010-05-17T09:20:00.000-04:00

Ronnie James Dio

2010-05-08T17:10:00.000-04:00

Today has been a good day.
It was Jellybean's first birthday, and our friends from work invited us to the party.
It always surprises me to find out people I work with actually like me and actually want to socialize with us. We were invited...well, commanded (every new mother's prerogative) to view-coo at the hospital. He was a Jellybean then, and he's one now, both in age and Jellybean status.
So the party was at the local park, and Sic-un was feeling good enough to go... We took the bike to the park.
***
Wife#2 is at the park.
!?!
I'm cute, she looks tired. Her butt is kinda lumpy? Mine has a better shape. Legs...Mine are better. Hips, same-meaning better. Posture? Oh, baby, let me tell you... I won't go into size, there really is no way to 'compare' size because I'm 5'4 or thereabouts and she's something like 5'8 or 9. But I hold myself better. I have no sympathy. Sic-un says she's had it hard since they split.
It's been awhile. Shouldn't she be kinda over it since she initiated things? No sympathy, see? Get OVER it, you know? Quit using it as an excuse. Excuses bore me. Take enjoyment with what you have now, 'cause it may be gone tomorrow. If there was a fire, what would you grab?
My wallet, phone and some clothes.
Really. Purse and clothes.
We're very careful of fire.
Tangent, sorry.
Anyway, she was at the park for a small girl's birthday. Go 'way, so she did.
Jellybean was cute, his parents are sweet. It was a little awkward. We're 'friends from work' and it's really an occasion for family and really close friends, but we were invited. !?!
Again, it always surprises me when people I work with want to socialize with me.
I don't consider myself to be a very interesting person, never have thought that way. It's only been recently that I've started engaging in some conversations, really, and even then, the best way to get along with other people is let them talk about themselves and their children and their lives...
Now we're home and Sic-un is napping because he HAS been sick, really sick, for 3 weeks and now he's feeling a bit better (dr put him on avelox. They use that for anthrax, f'rchris'sake!). But he's tired, hasn't been sleeping well.
There is a bit of pork loin in the slow cooker (brined it overnight, popped it in with onion and water and some spices, it's been going about 6 hours) and we're gonna have pulled pork bbq later.
Nap sounds like a really good idea. Yeah...naptime.

...I have been SOOOO busy....

2010-04-23T01:18:00.000-04:00

Really.
I took my state licensing exam, training then for the new campaign, since then work-work-work, and throw in a weekend or 2 or 3 filled with cleaning and laundry and general laziness, what-not and
TaDAAAAH!
You missed me, admit it, all...3? of you? Maybe? still reading.
I dunno...I haven't felt the urge to write recently, which kinda pisses me off. Honestly, I haven't much felt like doing anything lately, pretty much due to work and cleaning and laziness. Go figure.
I cleaned the kitchen, but I started it because ants had invaded. That means "clean 'cause you're missing something, then spray, then keep clean until apathy sets in again".
It's been a week, and apathy hasn't set in. It looks bigger. I like it. I'm contemplating washing the windows, even.
I will attempt to tackle the living room next. Hell, there's still boxes from Xmas under the table. They're empty, they're relatively stacked, but there they sit. I am talking about my fabulous circa-1954 formica with aluminum frame dining table set. Strangely enough, the 'set' came with 3 center leaves (4ft x 3ft w/o, each leaf is 1ft) and only 4 chairs. But still, it's enough for us.
We filled out our census. Strangely enough, we never received the form in the mail. We got the nag postcard that says there is still time left, but we didn't get the actual census. So we called. Or rather, Sic-un called. If you haven't received your form, go to census.gov and click on FAQs at the top. Big pink box at the top. Yeah. You can call it in, so he did. Made the census taker giggle. I love that man.
Speaking of....
Poor man has been physically sick since the beginning of the week. Dr said stomach virus, then gave him a prescription for antibiotics and phenergren. He's back to work tomorrow, feels mostly better, still a little nausea.
I'm fit as a fiddle. A bit of a headache tonight, but other than, no worries.
I'm actually anxiously begging the rain gods to take it easy on Saturday. I'm planning on a bit of punishment for S.o.s-u... Idiot child decided to tell his mother he was staying here for the weekend plus (through Tuesday) last visitation, but actually only stayed through Sunday early-afternoon before driving off. Guess who called up looking for him later that night? Yeah, mama.
The moral of this story is "You don't throw your father under the bus."
That's simple, right? So this weekend, if the child is here, and if the rain gods are appeased by my promises of thirsty plants and seeds, I'm gonna get flowerbeds cleaned out and planted. Picture a happy dance here.
Sic-un says it's not punishment, he's going to make it so it's now normal for yard-work because it is late spring. No more vid games and random teevee throughout the 1 1/2 to 2 days he's typically here. He will sit and do nothing but exercise his texting muscles if you let him, so...
I don't think he's going to be very happy.
And if it's raining.... well, SoSu is going to be helping me with the housework. He can sort stuff that's stacked on the tables. He can run the vacuum (although I dig that vacuum still and kinda enjoy using it). Hell, I'll drag him to the store with me and make him fetch/carry. reminder: yogurt. you want yogurt. put it on the list.

Work. Ahem. I am actually enjoying my job for the first time in years. I haven't been called a cunt, bitch, whore, fucker, asshole, bitch, or cocksucker in weeks. I mean, of course, by the anonymous caller on the end of the telephone line.
Call me crazy, but I have never called up a business with an issue or a comment or a service that needed to be done and cussed out the person on the other end of the line. Ever. EVER. I've made comments after I've ended the call if they seemed especially incompetent, sure, but I have NEVER called an anonymous service worker names because I didn't get my way. EVER.
And now? Now... Now it's sunny and 72 in the Temple (christened so by some of my coworkers. I shall use it shamelessly). I'm interested, I'm learning, I'm enjoying it. No cussing.
It's completely alien to me. And this is after...20 years experience with telephone customer service positions. I finally get to a campaign where the customer doesn't treat me like dirt. I'm thrilled, frankly, and getting a little weirded out by my gushing.

OH!
An old friend dug this out...
Mid school (ahem). Scanned from the yearbook. This would have been... 6th grade? Yeah, 6th. Gotta love the humongous and heavy glass-glasses. Yes. I was blind as a bat.

I've got to get my real house in order so I can get my House in order. While I'm getting the House in order, I'm going to be working on Studio. I've asked for some days off in May, so I will have some freetime. I won't say what I'll be doing, but it will be either house, House or Studio. And making $40 more a week due to the new raise is nice. Doesn't appear to have kicked me to the next tax bracket, but time will tell. This weekend is a free paycheck.
Look.
Aren't
They
Exquisite?

And it is a bit of that so I leave you to go to bed (aw, c'mon. You see it, you know you do.)

What have YOU been up to?

turning on the lights

2010-03-20T13:58:00.003-04:00

Hello?
Anyone here?
Oh. Hi.
It's been forever, I know, but I've been incredibly busy.

This past week? Training. 11-8, Saturday and Sunday off. Same thing for 2 more weeks.
One week ago today? I had finished a cram class for my Property and Casualty Insurance Examination.
Yeah, cram class.
One week, 40 hours, taught to the exam.
Had to, for the job. If I tell you anything more on that, I'll have to turn in my badge.

This morning, I got up at 6:45, for no good reason. Noon saw me in my car getting my happy butt down to Farragut for fingerprinting.
State rules require the TN Bureau of Investigation have my prints on file for my state license for the aforementioned P/CIE. There go my dreams of pulling off the heist of the century. Sigh. They'll know who I am now.

I passed the state test(s) [one property, one casualty] (obviously). They allow 3 hours, I took it in 1 hour, 20 minutes, and that included going back through the entire test(s) to check my answers. I can't tell you what my score was, I don't know. But I received a very official looking form that says I passed. Some didn't.
My goal? Get out of the campaign I was in.
I have. This is a good thing.
Just got home.
Sic-un is out on a ride. It's the first really pretty pretty day off we've had in awhile. I had to do fingerprints, he has to ride.
I'd be out there with him, if I could. I kept passing motorcyclists on the way there and back and was very envious.
But one thing and another has happened and my savings are back down to nil and kaput, so a bike is out for another year. The new campaign comes with a pay raise, so if I keep on the same path I am (saving what I can, being a cheapskate), I may have a bike in a couple years.
My valve cover gasket on my car blew. Thank the stars it was *just* the valve cover gasket. Thank stars too for the GBN. That's Goodol'BoyNetwork for those who may not have guessed. $80 and a day, it's done.
Just in time to run into someone at the grocery store who I really didn't want to run into.
"Is THAT THING still on the road???" Don't insult the Blue. Mine still runs and has cost me, beyond basic maintenance/tires and gas, a whopping $380 in parts and labor. And it STILL gets 40 mpg. Fuck you and your brand new Impala.
Sic-un has a head cold. I'm fighting it tooth and nail and hopefully it's not going to be too bad. I'm still hoping it's allergies, but who knows anymore. The pollen is thick on the window and I can still (somewhat) breathe and see...No itchy eyes, no hives. Now, 'round about this time in Albuquerque and I'd be reaching for the meds.

What else...what else....oooh. S.o.S-u is in heaps of trouble. Started again on the 'I wanna live with Dad'. Fine by us, but it's not going to be roses and champagne if he does move in. Chores. OOOOHhhh, the garden would look pretty! Dishes would be done! By someone else!

Speaking of which, I should wash them. Love you all!

GRRR

2010-03-06T00:37:00.003-05:00

To the fucking commercial on the fucking TV because this is the 4th time I've seen it so far today: The headboard/footboard/dresser/nightstand combo you currently have on sale is NOT a 'Bedroom Suit'. It's a BEDROOM SUITE, pronounced SWEET, you fucking fucktard!
A 'bedroom suit' is something you'd see Hef wear. PJs and a smoking jacket. Bedroom Suit. However, a 'bedroom suite' is the lot of furniture you're attempting to get people to buy.
Suite=number of things forming a series or a set
Suit=a set of clothing, armor, or the like, intended for wear together.
So yes... The 3 piece lingerie set? It's a suit. The 3 piece living room combo? It's a SUITE.
Fucktards.

Lordy, lordy, look who's...

2010-02-23T19:32:00.000-05:00

...(all together now!) forty!
Ahem.
Or soon to be. Tomorrow, in fact. I won't jump the gun or anything, but I'm almost positive I won't feel any older tomorrow than I did this morning. Which leads me in a roundabout way to when I first had that thought, 1978, my first tentative steps into the idea that time just might be fluid. I didn't feel any older on that chilly morning than I did before going to bed, indeed going back even further, I couldn't remember ever feeling different on my birthday. So I settled.

I'm eight. But time, although fluid, generally flows in one direction and the ravages aren't so easy to get rid of.

I share my birthday, or shared, with my great-grandmother. She would be 110 tomorrow. She was 65 when I was born. Her name was Helen. I almost share my birthday with one of my cousins. One of my kissing cousins, in fact, not that I've ever kissed her. It simply means her mom is my mom's sister and her dad was my dad's brother. We share enough of the same genes that a DNA sample would say we're sisters. She is 2 years older, and could be called Myrtle-the-Fertile-Turtle, but that may be cruel. She has...4? 5? Something like that. Enough for both of us, is what I say.

I've settled in my skin.

Someone asked me the other week why I didn't have children because they were such a joy. I told her she just got done telling me they decided to rip apart all the drawers in the house and she was waiting to mete out punishment. Why would I bother? Let them be your joy, I'm happy with none.
And I am. I'm being selfish, yes, and a drain on the resources of this country, not even daring to replicate myself to take my place in society when I retire or die, whichever comes first. The world is bearing me now. What happens when I die is whatever happens. I won't care. I'll be dead. And no use wanting me to feel guilt or shame or fear at the imminent demise of Yours Truly. Can't do it. Life is fatal. Everyone dies. Besides. Look at China. See what's happening there? They were so intent on 'A boy to carry on the family honor' or name or some such nonsense and killed quite a few of their girls.....There aren't enough women now. So much for replicating themselves. I kind of welcome it. I look at my car and my clothes and my house and I get food at the grocery store and-and-and... It is a strange kind of guilt for the rock we happen to be hurtling through space on. The bees are dying. Did nobody think to ask if they liked the flavor of the genetically modified produce? Bats are now getting white-nose, a fungus that wakes them from their hibernation to starve because it is still winter. I'm sure something humans have done is causing this. Perhaps the proliferation of molds and super-molds that we are unleashing upon the world. Don't tell me about 'carrying on the genes'. Don't buy it. Don't drink that particular koolaid, OK?

I have settled into being human.

We're having steak for dinner, with mashed potatoes and green salad. Tomorrow's dinner is up in the air. I have no idea if I want to cook or eat out or just get burgers or take out and just eat here or what. The birthday cake is not, it's actually going to be a batch of Lemon Bars (it's a box. I'm making a box mix of Lemon Bars because I'm being lazy on my birthday. I can highly recommend the Krusteaz mixes.). No candles. Meh. I'll light some incense.

I have settled into being selfish enough to be lazy on my birthday.

I washed dishes last night, I'll do them again before cooking dinner. It tends to keep them down to a manageable level. I don't like standing for hours at the sink. Steaks in the Lodge (TM) grill pan, potatoes from a box (hey, I watched how they're made on How It's Made, they're safe), salad to cut/tear into bowls. Laundry is in, whites still left to do and Sic-un just got home from work.

I'm 40. My hair is greying, I'm starting to ache in the cold. I don't particularly like what I do for a living and would really like to win the lottery. I have a man who loves me and I'm doing OK. This is pretty OK.

I was right!

2010-02-04T01:56:00.007-05:00

We had snow. SNOW....Of course, so did Mom in Abq. I leave town and it snows a bunch. I live there 20 years and not too much. Figures.

This first is at 3:03PM, on Friday. Just a light dusting...I keep waiting for the deluge because flakes started coming down like, 3 hours ago...

Here's just 40 some-odd minutes later... The curvy line on my rear fender is from the wind and how the snow stuck to the filth on my little blue, NOT how the fender actually looks.
Scary thought: The grass is still green underneath for the most part. I blame the weather. We haven't really had 'hard' freezes to brown it up without a warming period in-between filled with rain. Tends to keep it *sigh* green. And for JANUARY? With snow on the ground? That's just... strange.

1:16AM (yes, I grabbed the camera. It's handy. I'm always snapping.) It's still snowing, and it's pushing some sleet as well, so that's a lovely layer of ice over everything, too. Tried to capture the snowflakes, couldn't.

6-ish PM on Saturday and a slightly different view of the neighborhood. This is off the front porch, turned to the right. And that's the car S.o.S-u used to drive up. It has stopped snowing, after starting noonish on Friday, at about 4PM Saturday. That's the longest I've seen it snow in years.

8:08AM
by Darkneuro 1/31/2009

This beauty I included because it's natural light, Sunday morning. I love these colors. Mom Nature has a great eye, doesn't she?

In other news... we're going to the circus. Next month. Ringling Bros. Great tickets. Sic-un has never been. I haven't been since I was 8.

8:08AM by Darkneuro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

It's a little after midnight...

2010-01-28T00:34:00.003-05:00

...Today is my 'Friday', so to speak. After 7:45 PM EST, I get 4 days off. I may actually finish my fan. S.o.S-u. should be coming up this weekend and hey! He's a Birthday Boy somewhere in the vicinity, so a choco cake (alas! a mix! But messed with. cannot be that lazy. ) is forthcoming. Not worried about laundry, I'll live in my sweats and a negligible pair of jeans if I must go out this weekend. There's food in the freezer, there is toilet paper, we have liquids, solids, soap, shampoo.... We'll be fed and squeaky clean. There is supposed to be another storm coming through, so the stores will see a rush of people purchasing dairy and bread. I get paid sometime Thursday night/Friday morning, and my taxes are done and should hit tomorrow or Friday.

I say the storm should be coming through because Weather is hedging its bet and saying "Hey, we don't know what that low pressure system will develop into, but we're saying prepare for the worst!". Sic-un puts his bike in the shop Friday (collateral damage from the last little pissing contest Mom Nature had), as well as tire and rebuild on the forks. So he'll be out his bike, but he can use my car, and it's really only for a couple days. Then I'll get up and shower early-but not necessarily get dressed to go early- take him in, go back to the house, get dressed, go in myself. For probably a week. That's the shop's usual turnaround time, really. If they're on the ball, it could only be a couple days.

I may still get that breadmaker, but I'm most certainly buying those sheets. I will tell you they are warm. Not electric, no... I don't trust the wiring in this house enough to use an electric blanket, so the bed is cold when I do make it in there. Insomnia is not a friend. I hesitate to take a pill for it because it may make me groggy, but I may take one tonight. I want to get through tomorrow and not freak out. The stress...it burns. Where was I? Oh. The sheets. Apparently they're only in the bed size in something called Denim, which they don't show a picture of, but they're fleece sheets, like the fuzzy blankets I got at the sprawlmart ...After Halloween 2007. Fleece. Warm, soft, fleece. If they pill up, I don't care. That's why you wash on cold, gentle cycle and dry on low. Oh, for a warm bed. I first thought flannel, but then thought "Well, no, the flannel you've felt and seen lately has been shit, and you really don't want to pay that much for a set that will last as long as those ones you picked up on special. They lasted what? 10 years? Something like? And to get that NOW with flannel, you gotta move up to the $75+ price points...nah. These are clearance, these should do nicely." It will Spring soon.

So I'll spend the money, but it's for useful things, although they are not by any means necessary... Well, the breadmaker may be. I can't bake bread to save my life. I don't know if I overknead or what, but my bread skills are sadly lacking. I can (as proven at my mother's house for several years) follow breadmaker recipes and load them in. I CAN MEASURE AND DUMP, which is basically what it needs. And it does it rectangular loaves, not the round ones Mom's does.

Taking 1/2 a pill. OTC sleep med. Non-habit forming. I have to get sleep if I'm to deal with-
Further deponent sayeth not.
This made me laugh today. I hope it does the same for you.

From here.
Peace.

Early this year...

2010-01-21T02:15:00.002-05:00

I've filed my taxes for this year. I love being single income, no kids*, standard deduction, no interest income. EZ is suh-weet.
I may change my deductions and not get back as much next year. I dunno. I know it's a free loan to the government and that kind of pisses me off, but it is a kind of nice thing to have a forced savings like this.
Of course, 1/2 goes to each account I have.
Is it wrong I want to buy....things? with my refund, at least in part?
Of course, I've also been eyeballing a bread maker over at Amazon.
***
I had to dispense Law to the 16-almost-17 year old Son of Sic-un Saturday (sibilance....sibilance...). Boy got into my vodka, dammit! I am grateful he didn't water it down. I'm not grateful he drank 1/2 a bottle. Of Ciroc. $40 a pop and he sucks it down. Over 2 weekends, to be sure, but still... I thought I had given the poor thing food poisoning, instead we might have had to explain alcohol poisoning to his mom.
Egads. Not that. Which was pointed out. Anyhoo, I had to lecture, which made me a bit uncomfortable, but him more so. I laid it on pretty thick, the gist being "Ask and you just might receive, sneak and you're banned. Do it again and you're reduced to only coming up when you can be fully supervised." He didn't like that, spent the rest of his weekend... Well, for lack of a better phraseology, he engaged me in conversation on an almost constant basis. I can't decide if it's nerves, ingratiating (and he's not the type for that) or just boredom.
I've had to look my approaching childlessness-FOREVER (menopause) pretty square in the eye lately, and I have to say I'm not disappointed in the fact I haven't had kids. I think I'd make a shitty mom, at least while their infants. And I do have to say I'm just a bit too permissive (although that's based mostly on mom raising me... I can do it as long as I can do it in front of her. OK. Drinking, good. Smoking, good. Anything else? Not on your life.). S.o.S-u has no inhibitions... It's kind of funny, actually. We tease him mercilessly. Well, hell, he's 16-almost-17 and he's tall and good looking. He's a non-painted, hairless young Sic-un without the chin-divot. Really. So he has to beat the girls off with a stick. We tease him. He blushes, but there's no 'Hey, no fair' or "That's off limits", which I would fully expect him to do. He's quite self-possessed. He is also kindof spoiled, to be sure, but that's understandable, he's the baby. of that particular grouping.
***
Ah well.
Another day, another bit of scratch to make it through another day.

*SINK: Single Income, No Kids.
Dink=Double income, no kids.
Sik and Dik....Single and Double Incomes, Kids.
Lump=Living with Unmarried Partner
I love acronyms sometimes.

2010-01-08T01:09:00.004-05:00

Slip sliding away, slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip sliding away

1/8/2010

I would like to point out that in the above picture, there is indeed snow. There is also, sadly, an absence of either Sic-un's bike or my car.
This is due to the fact that there is indeed snow that does appear to be sticking about a bit more than it usually does. It is also due to the fact that there is about 1 inch of solid ice under what little snow there is....on the road.

Let me explain: It started snowing while we were both at work. It wasn't so bad when Sic-un left work at his lunch to go pay our rent. It got somewhat bad while he was out (he dropped the bike. Minor injuries: One mirror is broken and his back is potentially pulled again), but he made it back to work to finish out his shift ok. Me? I don't leave at lunch. I have 1/2 an hour. He has a full hour. It makes a difference when you have to drive 10 minutes (traffic) to get a burger, you know?

I followed him from work at a very slow rate of speed, he on the bike, me in my car. Roadway through office park to major street? Snowpacked and icy. We're lucky we don't have to go the other way out of the office park: There were reportedly between 5 and 10 accidents the other way out of the office park. There were no accidents, nobody stranded, no issues when you left our way. So we were lucky there.
We got to the main road. The majority was just wet, with a strange... well, I like to think of it as 'ice potential', where the water doesn't move the way it should because it is so cold, and it's thick and sluggish and will cause you to slip and slide if you're not careful. We managed to do about 30 all the way down the main road. Then we get to West Outer. It's slushy on the off-sides of the curves, and there's again the potential for ice that makes me damn glad I'm getting home now instead of later, but for the most part it's just wet.
Then we get to the side road that leads to our street.
It's up a short hill, then down a long hill, and when you're about 1/2 way down the hill (before it continues its hillness around the curve), you need to turn onto our street.
Inch thick ice up the hill and down, starting about 2 feet after you leave WestOuter.
Silly me took the light dusting of blown snow to be actual un-driven snow on the ice instead of just ice. Then I noticed that Sic-un had his feet down, his front wheel was pointed towards the left and he was going to the right. He pulled towards the right. I tried to avoid him and then the Good Samaritans who were waving their hands madly to tell us "Don't come this way"....
Thanks for the warning when I'm now started down the hill, guys....
I was in 2nd gear, not first.
I tapped my brakes (yes, I'm a dumb cunt).
I slid. Of course I slid. I know better, but I slid anyway. I proceeded to PUMP my brakes, turn into the skid, drop to first, regained very slight control and came to a stop in the middle of the roadway, at an angle, right in front of the guys waving madly at me. They were stuck, in a truck-type vehicle, parked and with flashers in the gutter area, about 7 feet in front of my front bumper, right in the curve that would have allowed me to slip down to the other side and find purchase.

So. Sic-un, getting assistance from the Good Samaritans in stopping his skid, getting to the side of the roadway and getting parked, was safe.
I was safe.
My car? Not Safe. Seriously NOT SAFE.
Middle of the roadway, 2 way (usually) busy-ish road, at an angle, lights on, flashers on, RUNNING, PARKED in the middle of the road.
How many fucknuts do you think live on/near this road?
I talked to at least 5.
That's the total of cars we turned/waved away while the other 2 guys (from the truck in the gutter) waved people down the other way. We managed to run up to them (for the most part) before they crested the hill. 2 made it past the crest and immediately started their skid patterns. Their saving graces? 4 wheel drive and weight. One was a big truck (bronco? blazer? Not sure) and one was a Jeep. They both managed to make it into the museum backyard (not parking lot, mostly dirt and 'projects' like the gravel stacks). The truck blazed its way through the museum backyard to the museum parking lot, then over the curb and out. The Jeep maneuvered around the parking lot then went around the block until it could chain up the 2 guys in the truck and get them turned around and moving so they could park in a (better) (safer) (quasi-legal) area...around the bend down the hill.
Which left my car.

After Sic-un had parked the bike, assessed the situation, he walked to the house and called the cops. That was his errand. Nobody had the fricken non-emergency # (nobody hurt, nobody bleeding, but the potential is there). We needed the road blocked off or an ice truck or something. No accident, no issue, want a wrecker?
Um. Yeah. A wrecker would have been able to pop my car back 5 feet and over about 30 feet into the museum backyard. SAFE in the museum backyard.

So we ordered a wrecker from the cops, Sic-un came back out and gave me his hat (awwwwww... No, really, it's a cute hat-one of his xmas gifts-and it matches the bike colors and it's warm because it fits so well) and we debated and hrrmed and harrumphed and commented about the sad state of the neighborhood that nobody happened to have a ginormous bag of either kitty litter or rock salt lying around and we waited for the wrecker and we chased away stupid people that were more than willing to prove how big their balls were and how a little thing like a bit of ice on a hill wasn't going to stop them... ("No. Seriously. Look- [slip,slip,slideslide]- This is really slick even here and just over that hill crest? Yeah, there's a car in the middle of the roadway, stuck, and another just to the left of that. We've called for a wrecker already. 4 wheel drive slips and slides like mad. You're in a... Oh. A Fiero. Um. Yeah. You may want to seriously turn around.") It didn't scare them and they could drive through it with NOOOO problem... Until we told them there was a wrecker on its way already. Then they backed up and moved off down the just-wet roadway.
Figure about an hour or so? Yeah, I'd say an hour or so. Maybe as short as 45 minutes, but longer than a 1/2 hour of standing around waving off people because I didn't want my car wrecked... One of the Good Samaritans (gotta love the good ol' boy network around here sometimes) offered to move it right down. Stick? Yeah. Cool. Just drop it all the way low, no brakes, no gas, let the car do itself and nudge it down over there to the legal parking space on the not-so-likely-to-collect-victims side of the curve.

Sic-un and I walked the 100 feet or so to our front yard where we called the cops and cancelled the wrecker and mostly immediately poured good shots of vodka.

Skål!

Reverse...

2010-01-04T08:38:00.007-05:00

....insomnia.
I went to bed last night about 1 or so, could have been as late at 1:30, but I was up bright and early at 8. Don't have to be up, even now, until 8:45, but I was up at 8 and could not remain asleep. 12 hours from now, I should be coming home from the alternate dimension, or will already be home. Time moves quickly when I'm going to the other dimension, until I'm sitting in the seat with people screaming invectives at me, then it will slow to an absolute crawl.
***
We had house guests this weekend. Sic-un's son and G&D's dog. Really great weekend, except now I need to wash the couch dressings (pillowcases, cover). Max, that is the dog's name, slept on the couch, nervous and missing his owners, and him with his skin condition. Min-pin and part chihuahua. And then over 1/2 my bottle of Ciroc is missing, so now I'm marking the bottle. We'll see if the boy notices. Small, nervous dogs distress me to a certain degree. I'm afraid of hurting them (because they're dogs, but they're...tiny. And nervous. Shivery little things) or expecting too much of them. Still, it was nice to have an animal in the house.
***
Christmas was good, although it came with its own guilt. Sic-un's mom emailed him, apparently, seeking to see if I hated my gift or liked it or what.
Hated?
HATED?
It made me cry. This beautiful woman got me a silver necklace. I've met her once. And I didn't send a thank you email because I want to go to the store and get her a card but I keep getting sidetracked, or I forget and then don't go back, or else I have so much else to do on my (separate) days off, that nothing ever gets done. So I haven't sent a thank you and I feel guilty. I'll stop at the store on my way home today and rectify that. Get rid of that particular guilt. Although Sic-un did say he emailed her back. That should hold for another day or 2.
***
I'm starting the New Year off feeling guilty.
Not only about the necklace and not yet sending a Thank You, but also about Sic-un, surprisingly enough. I feel like a bad girlfriend. His back has been jacked up all this past week. He tripped over something at work and got on meds from the dr, and IS feeling better (at least he says he is) and I've been hollering at him if he bends and I get him the things he needs... but I still feel like a bad girlfriend. I no longer come in and rip his clothes off, we spend a lot of time just 'hanging out' either watching the idiot box, playing games or reading, and the whole feeling is 'Sex tomorrow or sex yesterday, but never today' in a Carroll-ian turn of events. SO I'm not throwing myself at Sic-un any more and I don't know why. He still makes me giggle like a schoolgirl, he turns me on like nobody's business, but either I'm too tired and stressed from work and things around here or he's tired and stressed, or I don't feel good or he doesn't feel good....
I'm afraid I'm going to lose this beautiful, smart, funny, witty, kind, sweet man, and it will be for something seriously stupid.
NO, we're not fighting. We don't fight. We don't argue. We actually discuss things and find resolutions if they can be found for whatever is going on. So it's not a fight or argument or antagonistic feelings or anything.
It's apathy.
Part of my anxiety about Sic-un can be traced to wife#2. I know that. I'm afraid I'm going to walk in one day early from work or something and they'll be in bed together. It's what initially woke me up this morning. I had a nightmare. I walk in the house, early out from work, and there is a strange car in front and they are in the bedroom. I leave him a note on his computer that I hope he would have the decency to wash the sheets and drive off. Not a 'bad' dream, not fear inducing or heart pounding palpitations or anything, just walk in, hear the noises, crack the door, write the note, drive off.
Except in driving off, I became so upset I started crying and woke up crying. Over a dream.
Why the anxiety? Because for the past 3 years, every winter, starting in October/November, sometimes stopping immediately, sometimes lasting awhile, this woman emails Sic-un about how lonely she is and how she must be such a bad person and why didn't it work out and what happened to them... He had his email open last night, her name was #1 on the list of inbox. What? I have eyes, I see.
(ahem)
Honey. I know you got another email from her, I saw it on your computer last night before you clicked over to temperature (it was 16 degrees, I think).
(ahem)
Keep in mind they've been divorced for what? 5, 6, 7 years? Something like that. Our agreement, from when we first started dating, is that he can go to bed with whomever he wants, as long as it's not forever. Don't leave ME for THEM. And vice versa. He wants to boff some chippy in a bar somewhere? Fine. I have the same privilege to go to bed with whomever I want, as long as the other knows about it (no secrets!) and we don't leave them for the other. No biggie, except Sic-un has a huge amount of guilt over this woman. He's firmly convinced he bent her mind and seriously injured her psyche. So what makes it different this year? I'm afraid of his own guilt towards her and that it will push him towards her and then wrap in the apathy we currently have going on and...
I think also she potentially has Seasonal Affective Disorder, since it's been happening now for 3 years. Part of me wants to knock on her door and tell her "Look, YOU divorced HIM. Let him have his life. You cannot eat your cake and then have it too." And then part of me wants to scream and rail at Sic-un and ask him how he can do this, doesn't he see the manipulation of the whine every year? Seriously? Then add in the "I'll show you" part that makes me want to run out and hop in bed with the first good looking guy I see. Which brings up the way I look now and the fact that I consider myself to be a great cow, so it would never happen, but then add in that agreement... Sic-un would say "Ok, are you leaving me for him?" And move on to the next subject if the answer was no. If the answer was yes, I get the feeling he'd offer to help me pack just so he could be a good sort about it.
***
I need to stop this. I need to stop it before I talk myself into another years-long lasting depression. I certainly don't need to be hashing this out right before I jump in the shower for work.
***
Breathe deep, think positive. I am my own worst enemy. I love my painted man, I am employed gainfully, I have money in the bank, my car is still running, I have a roof over my head and clothes on my body. I am smart and talented.
***
Breathe deep.

The fat man squawked...

2009-12-26T00:37:00.003-05:00

...or squealed. Hey, I'm in TN. I can make Deliverance references if I want. Uneventful day. Dinner was pork tenderloin, baked sweet potatoes, green beans and a fruit compote thing I whipped up. And sourdough bread (was a gift).
I am wrong to call it uneventful. Sic-un and I got hot and sweaty. It's actually a bit painful to sit. Feels wonderful, though. I find myself beginning to make plans for next holiday season, but none will come to fruition. I'll sit on my duff like I have a bad tendency to and will do what I did this year... plan badly.
Everyone got devil duckies. Including myself. A devil duckie should be in every person's bath.
And now I'm going to bed because I'm actually tired and may not be gripped by insomnia's hot breath.
Good night.

Winter in the Ridge

2009-12-24T01:03:00.003-05:00

The grey skies are getting to me. Really getting to me. There is no sun, this is the thought going through my brain. When it does make an appearance, it hardly leaves a shadow. It is too weak, this insipid, grey psuedo-sun. It does not warm.
I received my care package from my mom... it made me teary-eyed. I think I'm too sentimental, but I'm afraid everyone else just views me as whiny.
I have managed to avoid the stores this holiday season. I have ordered, instead, from Amazon, ThinkGeek, AbeBooks... I take that back. I made one mad dash into Kmart...
Am I the only one who continuously reads their current advert campaign as 'We're S-mart'?

Tonight, whilst I was out smoking on the porch, a strange car I haven't seen before drove up and parked in front of our house. It didn't sound too healthy, but nobody got out of it. I backed my way into the corner of the porch, keeping the car in view. It had the front end of a Caprice, it was light colored (can't say what shade of pale it was..our vapor lights glow a bilious yellow), and there was a pitiful little scoop thingy on the back.
They only parked for about 45 seconds to a minute. Then they started the vehicle and pulled away.
I think I've heard the car drive by since then, and I wonder why someone would be driving down the street, furthermore, why did that someone stop in front of our house?
G'wan... Call me suspicious...

I feel...

2009-12-16T01:06:00.002-05:00

...vindicated.
Very, very vindicated. I just read THIS ARTICLE. Which goes back to comments I've made in the past towards HFCS: It is bad, it is very bad. I have sought out soda that is more expensive than 'regular' colas (and don't tell me diet, aspartame gives me headaches, bad ones) just because it has real sugar in it (jonessodacola). I don't buy juices that have that crap in it. I won't buy bread that doesn't use real sugar.
Why not? It's all the same, right? The Corn Refiners Association would like you to think so. Up until now, everyone was quick to point out (scientists, media/ad campaigns, the FDA) that the percentages of glucose to fructose were roughly the same in both HFCS and sucrose (that's regular ol' sugar, folks!). I have pointed out in my past incarnation that the chemical bond is missing from HFCS. Your body goes to that extra little step of breaking the chem bond between fructose and glucose in sucrose. Fructose just goes straight to your liver.
I feel vindicated, dammit!

I quit!...well..want to.

2009-11-27T22:41:00.003-05:00

...I wanna quit calling myself Homo sapiens sapiens, but only because I really have very little in common with the rest of our species.
I just don't get 'us' - humans, people. I really don't.
The latest travesty of intelligence is that poor deluded woman in MA who is seeing Jeebus in the scorchy crud burnt onto the bottom of her iron. They have stuff that takes that off, you know. Instead, she'll be taking a perfectly good iron and never using it again because she sees someone who may or may not have lived c. 2000 years ago. I think this is consumerism at its worst. I say it's a travesty of intelligence because she really, really believes this is her 'special blessing', but it's really just crap on the sole.*

It's pathetic! It's like the whole 'Black Friday' thing... Are we that desperately needy, as a societal whole, to purchase more crap that just ends up in landfills? If we bother to throw any of it away at all, that is. The proliferation of shows like 'Hoarders' and 'Clean House' and ...that Brit show... Oh yes. How Clean Is Your House? These people have THOUSANDS of pieces of...crap. And they don't do anything with it, in fact have become obsessive about it to the point...
Well, let's just say there's too many stories about people buying crap followed by stories of bodies found rotting inside houses filled with crap for there to not be a connection there, at least somewhere. Animals, too, become the unwitting victims of hoarding behavior. They just rescued 80+ horses and mules from a farm here in TN. The animals were all starving to death, infected with who-knows-what...
The hubris astounds me.

I. Am. Sick. Of. It.
I wanna quit being a human, H. sapiens sapiens, person, whatever. I wanna quit. I don't wanna do it any more. We're fucking ourselves with stupidity and we're not even getting a good orgasm out of it, you know?

Do you know what they're teaching kids about the Plymouth pilgrims still? (They, of course, means corporate America and all their purveyors of American History.) Sic-un was kindof amazed, let's see if you are, too!
*ahem*
"The Pilgrims emigrated to America in search of religious freedom."
Let's digest that a mo', shall we? OK? Absorbed? OK. Here we go:
In actuality, they left where they were because they couldn't stomach the other religions around them. They were separatists within their own (Protestant, Calvinist) religion, which doesn't so much mean that others couldn't get along with them, it really is that they didn't want to get along with other people. Does anyone honestly believe you could be any other religion in that community and get away with it? Heh. The stupid thing is that they proved their own insular ideology not 70 years after landing with the whole Salem Witch thing. Those were pilgrims a couple generations down the road. The only 'religious freedom' any of the settlers as a society brought with them was the freedom of religion as seen by the Quakers. They didn't care what you were, as long as you left them alone. I can get behind that. But the pilgrims? Religious freedom?
It is a laugh.

How many tortillas and moldy sandwiches and cruddy irons will it take before we, as a societal whole, give up on the whole 'special blessing' thing? Does it really provide that much of a panacea to say you see the Virgin Mary in a piece of burnt toast? What has gone so wrong for you that you require acknowledgment that you .... what? "This is Elvis in the mold on the side of my refrigerator!" Really? I see mold. I see an iron that needs to be cleaned. I see a 1/2 eaten sandwich. I see a tortilla. I see water spots.

It's not that I don't believe they really see that. I know they do (and actually, Jesus-on-the-iron? I see the outline of Botticelli's Venus, at least from the shoulders up. Has that same sort of slope to it). I just don't see the need to spread word around. Are they that needy? Do they need the granfalloon?

What are they searching for so desperately and why must it be 'news'? The same thing goes for the mad shoppers today. Why are you so desperate to get 20% off X item that you know they won't have anyway because of the hoards of other shoppers out there? Do you need it, or do you just think it will... what? Make you the Prince among Princes? Reinforce your Daddy issues? Somehow make you the Best Parent Ever! winner? Or will it put you into more debt than you already have? Add to growing piles of garbage that you don't use anyway? Are you just trying to feed something in you, your kids, your parents, your friends, the Jones' you're trying so desperately hard to get up to the caliber of? Are you just collecting things, people, animals as some sort of proof of your humanity?

These kinds of things make me want to not be a part of the human race. I actually had someone tell me today they needed to get one of those stupid hamster things. As in "My child will die if I can't somehow transport this stupid toy under the tree". I asked it just that way to be sure, 'You mean to say that your child will die...'. They said "Yes." I turned away, smothered the laugh that threatened and said 'Good luck!' and I meant it. That scared me. I could actually envision this person dressed in a dowdy black dress (button at the collar! her good pearls!**), wailing and trying to throw herself in the grave because little Suzy didn't get the wunderkind rodent and expired as a direct result.

That started me on not really wanting to be associated with the general populace as a whole. I talk to them every single day (and by them, I mean general populace) and it's always the same thing, the same sad attempts at social engineering (which fail, unless I feel generous), the same sob stories, the same pissy attitudes. They're the ones going out shopping today. They're the ones seeing religious and entertainment icons in everyday objects. They're the ones who say religious freedom but really mean 'Do as I do'. Would they rub blue mud in their belly buttons? I think not.

Still, TANSTAAFL, and the only way to get out of this race is to evolve or die, neither of which is an option for me. So I grit my teeth and count to 10, 20 if it's sticky.

*The bottom plate of the iron is called the sole. Gotta give me points for attempting some sort of pun.
** Are there ever bad pearls?

In light of the fact that...

2009-11-26T14:11:00.002-05:00

...it is indeed Thanksgiving, I'd like to share this little number...

Happy turkey day, all!

It's all about the pie...

2009-11-22T10:33:00.003-05:00

Pumpkin pie, that is.
I took my jack o'lantern from All Hallow's and baked it off and froze it on the 1st. I made pie with it Friday.
You know how pumpkin pie is always kindof dense and cheesecake-y (for lack of better description)? Mine was fluffy, almost mousse-like.
And it actually should have been more dense. I used 3 cups of pumpkin puree instead of the Libby's Pumpkin Pie Recipe suggestion of 1 3/4 cups. Since I used more pumpkin, I upped the spice (and added 1/2 tsp allspice). That's it. Those are the only serious changes I made to the recipe. Oh, and I changed the order you put things in the bowl, and I'm almost positive that's the difference.
I started with the eggs. Separated, beat the whites just short of meringue, mixed in the yolks one at a time. It was a pale yellow foam. Then I added in the evaporated milk, which made it liquid foam, then the 3 cups of pumpkin, then the sugar and spice mixture (and always nice!) and poured it in the store-bought pie shell.
It's beautiful.

The Way I See It...

2009-11-13T15:13:00.004-05:00

I knew early on that I didn't see things the same way other people saw things. Things like color and form and the minute differences overall that makes each and every thing and each and every space around each and every thing that makes this world unique.
No matter how many universes, dimensions, continuums, this here-and-now is seen differently by... Everyone.
I don't know if it was the heat, the sun, the dozing day off this is rapidly becoming (but really shouldn't. I have to return library books and go shopping.), but I was looking at the side of the house and I saw

Opus. Or a study of Opus. You know, Opus. And yeah, I do see it still and will for awhile more. But most people would look and say "What? That smudge? What is that? What caused that? Ew!" and I just see a track left by some kind of plant or creature and I see Opus.
And it could be because I'm reading Sagan, thanks to Karl Elvis and the bargain bin at the local BAM.
But it does all come down to each individual.
I can see tones of the same colors that other people don't see. I hate matching paints up because something that other people can't see sends me into giggle fits ("That's the wrong navy. No, really, I'm telling you, it's much much lighter than that other navy. Yes, it's almost black, but it's the wrong navy.") or conniption fits, one or the other. At my mother's house, my bedroom was always pink. The color was Strawberry Shake, and they didn't mix it right at the paint store, so instead of the paler, it was brighter and it jarred the senses.
When I was 16, they allowed me to pick out my own wall paper and it was an ashy pink lily with a greyish jade leaf on a slightly creamy background with sponge stripes separating.
The walls became grey.
It was a calm room.
I weep easily at schmaltzy crap, and find it very hard to cry when I'm sad. I've cried more in anger than in sadness. I've hollered more in laughter than in anger. I groan over bad puns, and then make some of my own. Sic-un won the last pun-off. I pretty much taught myself to read and still marvel at the fact that something I've always pronounced in my head one way will sound different when it's pronounced properly... Sis caught me on 'epitome', which still looks like epi-tome. I caught myself out recently on Epiphone guitars. I've always thought 'epi-phone', but it struck me the other day "Dimwit! It's epiphany! GROAN"... Right? Like grey-gray. Both are acceptable, but gray is the more common, but it's really a different sort of word, gray is very hard and grey is very soft and that's how I see grey when I see grey.
At least, that's the way I see it.

Politically, I'm screwed. I don't believe in bread and circuses and I do believe teachers should be paid more and the people that are paid the most are paid too much for very little work. But I'm also against big corporations being given personhood status and mucking about with the food supply and the water supplies and hey... You know why the bees are disappearing? Has it ever occurred to ANYONE that it could be they just don't like the fucking flavor of genetic manipulation? I don't agree with the government bailing out the banks, I don't agree with the government bailing out housing, I don't agree with the cash-for-clunkers program (wherein the mostly traded vehicles were large, gas-guzzling trucks traded for more-but-newer large gas guzzling trucks). I think it's all bread and circuses. The last time this seriously happened, when banks fell and housing was bust and people were out of work in droves all over not just regionally or locally, we had the New Deal programs which have just become another cog in the government machine. Put your artists to work! Construction crews out of work? Why not put them to work for the government (hell, if we're paying them unemployment anyway, may as well get some work from them!) taking care of housing for the homeless and/or poverty stricken? How many blighted neighborhoods are financed by HUD and are falling apart? Put the unemployed back to work, dammit! Wait! They need places to live? How about you agree to something like the Habitat homes? Work for your mortgage! What are you working for anyway? Housing? Ok.
I'm not moderate, really, the problem is that I'm the only one who thinks the way I think.
At least, that's the way I see it.

Everyone wants me to be happy about having separated days off. I think it sucks, and each person who wants me to be reasonable and accepting of it has weekends off. Weekends, meaning 2 days off in a fucking row. I have to request time off to get it. It's not fair and I will continue to spout off on it occasionally. But it just means I don't have to work on the days they could actually use me the most because I'm taking time off. I can afford to work 35 hours a week. Really. It means things become a bit scrape-y, but I can. So I don't mind having to take the time off to have days off in a row.
And yeah, that's the way I see it.
Next time off is Sun-Tues. I'm gonna see about working more on my fan starting Saturday night. THIS Saturday night.

pizza

2009-11-11T23:26:00.003-05:00

I'm proud of this one.
It's my pizza sauce.
Yes, we make our own pizza. And I've been tackling my own sauce, lately.

5 small ripe tomatoes, peeled and squeezed firmly (easy way to remove the seeds, core and 70% of the juice)
1 oz sun dried tomatoes (dry pack), snipped small
1/4 c water
1/4 tsp Jane's Crazy Salt
1 tsp dried 'Italian Seasoning Blend' herb mix
1 Tbsp prepared pesto (I personally use jarred right now. My basil died)
1 Tbsp olive oil

Bring tomatoes and water to a boil, drop to low, cover and steep for 30 minutes. Stir in Janes and herbs. Blend mixture and remaining ingredients in blender or food processor until thoroughly mixed.

It smells how I imagine parts of the Med smell. The garlic in the pesto underlines everything. Yumyum!

Making christmas...making christmas...

2009-11-08T16:05:00.006-05:00

...falalalalaaaaah.....
Con-man wants a guitar. Actually, the way I say it is "Con-man wants a GEEtar". He's begged (me, at least) and apparently has been playing acoustic, but wants to switch to electric. I say...

The kid will get his guitar. Thank god for Musician's Friend. AFFORDABLE toys for not-so-grown-boys.
Archie McPhee will be getting some cash this year as well, again, yet, still....
The Boy (not Con-man, but the Boy, who is Sic-un's spinoff) will be getting Handerpants. Yes, Handerpants. Underpants for your hands. And I'm seriously looking at getting my mother Squirrel Underpants. Can't have them running around nekkid, now can we? Although I've always been attracted to the hopping lederhosen, as well...

That's The Boy to the left, there. He has no preferences, at least, none that he's willing to share. He's relatively quiet, he eats like a horse, and has been relatively calm. He was also raised by a prude, but is a self-proclaimed slut, having 2 or 3 girlfriends right now. I applaud that attitude. Means there is still some worth to him. I suppose I could also get him the Undercap by Archie McPhee.

Now for Sic-un for the holiday.... I'm debating getting him a new computer. New tower, that is. Someone at work said they got a website from school (Roane State) that had $125 towers. We'll see. If they're decent at that price, it's a possibility.

I hate having split days off. It Sucks Sewer Water.

Although there has been good news...

Mako is enceinte. I'm thrilled. She's high-risk, and the apparatus was disconnected years ago, but apparently the fix didn't take. They're both thrilled, it's a win all the way around, and I'm happy-dancin' for her. I'm also very worried about her, but that's my own thing. Still....

Mako, you rock!

So who's Mako? Nonyer. I adore her, and that's enough.

All Hallow's....

2009-10-31T23:15:00.001-04:00

Ahhh.... the smell of fal...
Well, out here, it's not so much fall as it is wet leaves. It is raining again, and the leaves (those that have fallen) are soaking already. Mmmm. Mold.
***
I ended up carving a lantern. I almost didn't, but then changed my mind last minute and managed to find a perfectly sized and shaped pumpkin, with only 1 small ground-side spot.
I decided to go the traditional route, and free-handed a face...

With Flash

Without Flash

It's a happy face, methinks, and I'm glad I ended up carving it.
***
We have had only 1 beggar of sweets. I'm not surprised, it is the buckle of the Bible-Belt after all, but the next kid that knocks on my door is getting a fistful of Hershey's, no questions asked. I don't care if that kid is 40.
Otherwise it'll just sit and sit and sit unless I do something with it. As an aside, I have found you can make a pretty damn good cup of hot choco by melting 5-9 of the mini bars o'chocolate goodness in a double boiler and mixing milk in very slowly, by small amounts.
*+*+*+
All of the churches that I drive by on the way to work have things like 'Join us for our Trunk or Treat!' instead of trick or treat. I have to admit I'm curious as to what 'trunking' is, but I'm still pissed they're usurping one of the longest-running widely celebrated holidays in the world. It's almost as bad as the church-sponsored haunted houses. Instead of ghouls and ghosts jumping out at you, they show you the (insert sarcasm, folks!) really scary things like the junkie in the corner and the hugely pregnant 10 year old getting a 3rd trimester abortion (last I checked, illegal in TN, except to save the life of the mom and even then that's a bit dicey to prove)... You know, the 'sin' stuff.
I say every community has unwanted pregnancies and junkies and they have all had them since time immemorial. You can't tell me Zog and Brod and Ralm sitting around the fire in the Lower Paleolithic didn't share ganja. You know they did... They depended on plants for their lives, they'd know the properties and drugs inherent in each one. I mean, c'mon... We have cannibinoid receptors in our fucking brains. You also can't tell me they didn't fuck like bunnies every chance they got. Sex is not new and this generation did not invent it, damnit! I'm also pretty sure Ms. Paleo didn't want to be pregnant all the time.
I just wish those who believe in their religions would practice tolerance of others and let us have our holidays, you know?
*+*+*+
I only know about the single costumed one because Sic-un told me. I was at work all evening. All evening? Hell, all day.
They have split up my days off. I now no longer get a 'weekend'. I don't, apparently, deserve a 'weekend'. But because I still get 2 days off a week (Friday and Sunday. How's that for a slap?), I really have no recourse.
Rumor says merit raises have also been suspended, indefinitely, due to the current economic crisis.
I have a shit schedule (hours are great, days off suck), and I have no hope of getting paid more as any kind of recompense. Why complain, you say. Why not do something about it, you say.
The answer is known, but I don't want to look for another job. I won't throw away 7 1/2 years with my employer just because I get a shit schedule. I've had worse. I remember 3 ten-hour days paired with 2 days of 5 hours each and separated days off. I just wish all that loyalty on my part was worth something on their part.
***
I still wanna win the lottery.

Merry Samhain, folks. I hope yours is happy. Pumpkin gets blown out and brought inside (if it is indeed still lit....yeah, it is) at midnight.

I feel stupid...

2009-10-25T19:44:00.003-04:00

....oh so stupid!

Apparently, when you replace the battery in my car, you're supposed to reprogram your remotes immediately. Of course, the batteries have been dead on my remotes for over 2 years now. I just turned the alarm off with the last gasp of juice in the one remote, the other having died long before, and never got replacement batteries. Hell, the alarm didn't go off, did it? And I had reprogrammed it immediately after replacing my alternator when that needed done.
So what happens when you don't reprogram a remote to it right away?

You have to disable the engine killswitch before you can start your vehicle. EVERY time before you start your vehicle.

o_0

So it wasn't the starter (although that went for a very minor trip away from the car to test it at AutoZone). And the car had a vacation from the front of the house, although being stuck at work wasn't quite the vacation it had in mind, I don't think.
Even worse would be if I had paid a mechanic to take a look at it.
But I got a new battery (which it needed), and my little blue bomber from deep in the desert is back in front and I have my transpo again. Tomorrow I'm going to get a set of jewelers' screw drivers to open the cases on my remotes and replace the batteries.
It has really sucked. I've missed (strangely enough) going to the grocery. I've missed being able to get up and go someplace even if I don't go anywhere.

Thank you Jesse and Sic-un! (even if all they did was point out my stupidity)

I've always depended on the kindess of strangers

2009-10-21T02:50:00.000-04:00

...Although I've never considered myself a Blanche Dubois type, although I detest asking for help (even though I may really need it), I actually begged a ride tonight from someone I know, at best, marginally. It made me feel... weird. And boyo, I thought my own car had shitty alignment. I've never been in a car that kinda goes thumpa-thumpa-thumpa from side to side (not up and down, and rather uniformly)...audibly. My car only does a little wiggle thing.
Or it would, if it were actually capable of going anywhere right now. Currently, it's about 5.1 miles away from the house, parked very safely in the farthest-from-the-door reaches of the parking lot that I am usually relegated to.
I, like a puling idiot unable to wipe my own nose much less be one to be trusted to operate a motor vehicle safely, left my lights on Thursday because it was drizzly and state law requires it (TN code 55-9-406). Of course, by the time I got to work, the drizzle had stopped, but no... I couldn't be bothered to remember to turn off my lights. Well, come out to the car 9.5 hours later and ta-fucking-da, the rear lights are faintly glowing, I curse like a drunken sailor out for a good time, and see if there's any way at all I can magically get an almost-but-not-quite-all-the-way-dead battery to somehow turn over the starter to get the alternator pumping juice back into the not-yet-quite-expired battery. Click-click-click. Fuck.
Get a jump from Junior and his 'jump point' featured car. Lights on the dash get brighter...oh wait. No click-click. O...kay. Means it hasn't say on a charge long enough. He has no problem talking inanely to a strange woman on her bestest behaviour to be a reasonably polite member of society. Let's wait, shall we?!?
I have problems talking inanely to, well, let's just use the word locals. I'm a morally reprehensible, socially bankrupt type of gal. Really. Ask anyone. I am, at the very least, a bit of a bawd. I find it hard, oh-so-very hard-hard-hard! to talk to rednecks whose only concern is that their basest needs be met in a manner they deem acceptable. These males are often referred to as 'Baby's Daddy' as opposed to 'My Husband'. Frequently 'engaged' and introduced as 'My fiance... you know, my baby's daddy?', they are usually good enough to fuck but damn are they as dumb as a box full of rocks! This one wasn't even pretty to look at.
But I was polite, asked about the baby asleep in the backseat, nodded, murmured politely, essentially waited (but not silently) for 1/2 an hour while my means of transport sat hooked up like an anemic to a transfusion kit.
I honestly don't think Junior could have shown me where the battery was actually located on his car. Knowing about some of these things, it was probably in the trunk. But I wasn't hooked up to a real battery. I was hooked up to the little bolt and fuse contraption that passes for a place to jump-start your car under the hood in a silly engine instead of with a genuine battery. Can't convince me it works to jump TO a dead car as opposed to getting a jump at it.
Half an hour, 30 minutes, and dammit, there's a fucking cold front pouring down on us from the great white north (take off, eh!) and I'm just getting over being sick for a fucking month and 1/2 and not feeling well and losing my voice twice and .....ARGH. Turn the key, no click-click-click, just that 'You've got all systems engaged and ready to go but it's stopped' almost muted tap. But the lights are brighter, the dash lights. I've started it with about the same amount of juice before (last time you left on the lights, dumbfuck!), but no dice. No turn over. Dead car.
That was Thursday.
Friday, I had off. Sic-un worked, I had it off.
Saturday, I had off. So did Sic-un.
Ever try to lug a car battery while riding pillion on a motorcycle? I have. Now, that is. It's not fun, requires a steady driver and the ability actually balance to a certain degree on your own. There was no room for it anywhere on the bike except my lap, and since you straddle the seat (mental picture: Guy in a tutu riding a Vespa with a lantern battery on his lap lighting up his wand and fairy crown), it's only balanced on 1 leg. Heh. Not fun. And had to lug it both ways, dammit! Took the dead one to the friendly AutoZ, tested it, watched the individual cell tests or circuit tests or whatever you want to call them, and it ranged from 2.4 to 12.1, none of which were what they were supposed to be. Verdict, knowing it's 5 years old and I've left some lights on 3 times previously (parking lights 2x, dome light 1x (door didn't shut properly)), but for much shorter duration, bad battery, replace. Get it back to the car. Burn with shame at having people look at me carrying a battery balanced on my fucking lap.
30 minutes and $85 after arriving at the car to begin with, new battery is installed.
The lights come on. Nobody's home. No click-click, not a turn over in sight. Not even a whine. Just that muffled tap when I engage the key all the way.
This was supposed to be the paycheck I blew on Xmas stuff so I could actually give what I wanted to give this year instead of what I have to settle for giving to the people I love because I make shit for wages. DAMMIT.
Can't. So sorry. Too bad, so sad, where's the waaaahmbulance? Now I get to hope, for a full fucking week, that it really is the starter, that my ignition isn't bum (and I really don't think it is) and that I'll be able to, with Sic-un shuttling me and/or his son back and forth to my car and the parts places around here looking for a starter (although the AutoZone website says they have it available in store! thank whatever deities you wish!) that it really is just the starter and not the ignition or some other main fuse bullshit or coils or some such.
I don't wanna afford a tow and a serious electrical repair on a 10 year old car.
I can't afford a new car. I can't afford the few used cars that I'd trust. Urk.
And put all this together with being sick since what? July?!?!? (various respiration things, due (at least in part!) to the humidity, the flu, and several colds from people that don't think they're contagious) and 3 months of sounding like Harvey Fierstein without the glorious accent while they're demanding at that...that place that I just keep talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and then missing a period
OOOOH. Yeah. That was fun. Furiously taking a piss on a stick of fibers designed to entrap hormones released when you're pregnant. Yeah. Fun. MMMhm. Love it. Love.It. I recommend EVERYONE do it at least once in a lifetime. I did 2... 5 days apart. During which I should have had a period. Nothing. And negative on both tests. But wait! The next time the cycle runs around, there it is! And oh boyo, let me tell you...

Mother Nature is a bitch. The month of October has been a truly horrific experience for me this year. The entire fucking month to date has been quite horrifying. But I'm not pregnant (visualization: Large, heavy, oak beam connecting to my fist). At least, taking a piss on the stick says I'm not. And regular biology says I'm not either. As does checking to see when I last had a penis in me.
So add to all that loverly stress and now I have car issues.
Who'd I piss off? Why all this, right now?
Causing me to not only beg a jump from someone, but also to beg a ride from a genial gentleman I work with so I don't have to ride (I really can't believe I'm saying this) the back of the bike when it's only 40 degrees outside, even though I'm riding it every morning when it's under 40 degrees, forget about wind chill... I feel like the biggest stupe on the face of the planet. And Sic-un... my good grandmother what a fucking peach.
Really! No complaints, no bitching, he's having to get up a full 2 1/2 hours early to shuttle me to work, he's having to run all the errands. Get this...
"Well, this is the free paycheck, so we can pool if we need to and get it taken care of. Ketchup sandwiches, no problem."
o_0
Last time a car I owned was broken and needed fixed, Idiotboy pretty much ordered me to borrow someone else's car to come see him so he wouldn't have to drive across the fuckin' bridge.
Without prompting, asking, anything...Sic-un just says 'We'll get it taken care of'.
Comparisons are odious, so state Cervantes, Christopher Marlowe and John Donne. I should quit letting his decidedly elegant and beautiful nature continually surprise me. I should be used to it by now. And some large small part of me hopes like nobody's business I won't ever get used to it.
Can I bask in this for awhile, karma? Can I just appreciate the hell out of the man I have? All this and if I wanna fuck someone for the thrill, I have permission? Really? ME? I can? And this wondrous man is mine???And he washes dishes and he'll scrub a tub and will run the vacuum and get dinner and keep me in my soda (even after I told him just the HFCS crap from the shit-n-git on the corner is fine, no, he goes to the big grocery store 4 miles away instead of the QuikEMart and picks up my cane-sugar-only beautimous Jones cola, lugging fuckin' 12 packs on the Grape Ape...) and he makes the bed and sets the alarm and makes me giggle and blush even after 3 1/2 years and still makes me stare with how beautimous he is... Can I just bask in him for a bit? Without so much stress crap?

I'm tired of being sick and tired and stressed over bullshit. I want my long weekend (I have off friday through monday, so does he) with no stress, but I may, and ONLY "may" get a chance to get 2 days (sun/mon) with little to no stress. "I'm very adaptable to circumstances." I am, too, although I'm still not a Blanche Dubois type. But I'm tired of being very adaptable. I want to wallow in hedonistic orgies of conspicuous consumption, and not necessarily in that order. All together now... money money money MONey

Spreadin' the word...

2009-10-14T01:41:00.001-04:00

Word...

Thanks, KE...smooches!

What I did this weekend...

2009-09-29T00:43:00.006-04:00

I keep saying I have a dozen ideas in my head. I'm not huge fan of traditional, but I do want to learn, so this is really my own teaching. I'm using the myriad issues of magazines I have floating around for ideas. And it's all freehand, which is something I haven't done in a bit.

The fat heart turned out the best as far as the hearts go. The heart itself, that is. I like the banner on the double hearts better.

The butterfly and the yellow flower are my interpretation of flash from c. 1920-c.1960.

Ahhhh.....The Weekend...

2009-09-27T21:34:00.004-04:00

...the 4 Day Weekend, that is.
Yes, the 4 day weekend is a marvelous invention known as "I take 2 days off, paid, and don't have to do anything".
This weekend, Sic-un's son came to visit. Good kid. Cute kid. Well-behaved. He made his bed! Eats like a horse, doesn't say much, blushes becomingly, but is a good sport.
Did I cook? No. Well, made breakfast, but that doesn't really count. Anyone can scramble eggs. We ended up getting Chinese Friday and eating at Hacienda Degollado last night.
Poor kid said when they go out for Mexican, he 'always gets just nachos'.... Last night he had the house special.
I'm grinning. I like it when people give new foods a try. He liked it. This pleases me.
Hell, even Sic-un tasted some of the General Tso's and some of my teriyaki chicken. That's an accomplishment. I'm refusing to ever hold my breath for him to ever EVER like mushrooms, but that's OK. I can live with that quite easily. Usually when I eat mushrooms, it's on pizza (do the 'personal' size and you never have to worry about somebody not liking your topping) or sauteed up with some onions for steak (and I can do that in a separate pan).
So it's leftover Burritos Tampicos for me. I have no idea what that really translates to. On the plate, it's a steak burrito with a real tomato-y red sauce, cilantro laced tomatoes and onions with the strips of steak. And of course, the loverly queso blanco I appreciate so much around here.
In NM, they use cheddar, which is oily on the plate. Here, queso blanco. Mild, creamy, sets off the chiles in a very good way.
I'm currently drawing. Essentially making some traditional style flash. First attempts and all that. I need more practice. Which is another reason for the weekend. No pressure, no tired-ness, no "I gotta get up at 9:30" just....
Pick up the pad and draw.
And while I draw (and finish off the Burritos Tampicos), I'm absorbing the beauty that is the National Parks.
Enjoy.

Too good to not share...

2009-09-12T02:29:00.003-04:00

From here.

Grr.

2009-09-06T22:32:00.003-04:00

It's bad enough I get every forward in existence through my email. Worse, most are political. Coming from a large family, I get both sides of every political discussion.
The latest?
'Forward to other people this dastardly thing that points out that our Mr. President has read/is reading/did read a book called "The Post-American World". FORWARD IT! NOW! The OUTRAGE!!!!'
Sigh.
I can't. I really can't. In good conscience, I cannot -CANNOT- point fingers at anyone for their choice of reading material.
Think about it. This is what leads to Fahrenheit 451. Really. "I don't approve of your reading material". I cannot hold with that.
I WON'T HOLD WITH IT.
My current reading list is online porn and a 1971 "Best of" collection of the Hugo winners I'm skipping through (volume 2, not the whole kit'n'kaboodle). I just recently finished Rollins' A Preferred Blur, returned to the library The Book Nobody Read, a da Vinci bio, a very dry and unreadable history of the Victorians, and Kiln People (Richard waded 1/2 way into this, I didn't end up touching it).
I have read everything from Aesop to Zhang. I don't make judgments on my reading materials, and I don't make judgments on other people's reading materials. I cannot judge anyone based on their own reading materials, except to say 'Huh. Sounds like a good book'. I sneer at Twilight (sorry...every time a vampire sparkles, Bela Lugosi spins in his grave), but I won't ever prevent someone from reading it. I may say "It's drek", but I won't stop you from reading it. I'll laugh at you for reading it, but prevent you??? Hell no!
I'm sorry, that's like telling someone "You can't THINK this way"...
GRR. Not allowed. Now I get to email it to my parents and say "Uh, guys, you always encouraged me in my reading no matter what I happened to be reading. Give BO the same courtesy."
After all... I didn't vote for the guy, right?

Productive long weekend....

2009-08-18T23:19:00.003-04:00

...I go back to the AlternateDimension tomorrow. The good news is that there is no mandatory OT on my schedule this week. The better news is 2 days and I'm off for another 2. And then (and THEN?) I'll have off the 28th-31st. So does Sic-un, so it's all good.
I like days off.
I like lots of days off and I still want to win the lottery.
Still, it was a productive weekend.

I redid Mari's Eye of Horus, just to the right there. She's going to JP this upcoming weekend. I wish her safe journey and for her to have a frickin' ball. She needs it, desperately. Just a weekend, but that's ok.

As for me... well, that's below. Didn't get the fan completed, but I got more done on it. It's a little strange, tattooing yourself. There's the pain involved of actually getting a tattoo, but you have to work through the pain to actually do the tattoo itself. It makes (especially on the top front of the thigh) for a painful proposition, you know?
Still, I did get some more into it, and it's coming together. Then I surprised myself and decided to go back to the basics while waiting for the fan to heal up for the next round.
Enjoy.

2009-08-12T20:00:00.000-04:00

I've been incredibly remiss about updating lately. My only excuse is OT at the AD. That's "OverTime at the Alternate Dimension"... People seem to think I should be overjoyed at the overtime and gobble up as much overtime as I can possibly get, up to and including volunteering for the damn hours. No. Not gonna, don't wanna. So, the AD pulls the 'It's part of the handbook' card. I say "If you MUST give mandatory OT, it means you don't have enough people". That's logical, so it doesn't fly. It means I've been working incredibly long days (11 hours? Talking to wits who argue about troubleshooting? JOY!) and have very little time for just me.
So why am I home early today (approx. 1.75 hours early)? I'm tired. That's all. I'm tired. I took the 1/2 incident to my attendance and I came home. Now I need to unwind so I can go to bed and get sleep. I'll give it about another hour before I'm out. And starting Friday, I'm off work for 5 days. I'm going to finish my fan, and redo the fill on Mari's Eye Friday/Saturday. Then I'm planning on sleeping and cleaning and generally goofing off.
But I thought I'd take a brief moment for the 'This is news?' and 'Can we say 'should have seen it coming'?' files... It's amazing what's going on out there the people don't think anything about...
(yes, it's Yahoo news. It's a one-stop shop for the sublimely ridiculous)
First up, THIS little gem. Look, lemme tell you something ladies. If your boyfriend lives in his mother's basement into his 40's?? Something is very very wrong. And if your boyfriend wants your help in raping infants? Something is very very wrong, but not only with him, the problem is also with you. Get help. PLEASE.
Next, we have the loverly "This looks good" salad mixes in Germany.... Guys, if you cannot identify it with certainty, don't throw it in my salad. I do have to laugh, though... "Samples were sent to the University of Bonn for testing, which detected more than 2,500 micrograms of poison -- 2,500 times more than the recommended daily allowance -- in 150 grams of salad, German media reported." .... The poison is 2500 times more than the RDA... You give an RDA for cyanide too??? Hmmmmm.....
Then there's the 'If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is' stupidity.... If you have fallen for this scam, then you deserve what you get, sorry. Use your heads, people. It's not hard. Does it make sense? If not, don't do it.
THIS is why I get money from my bank, not the random convenience kiosks. Convenience usually means it costs more...You didn't figure that out with the $2 12 ounce soda you just bought? Silly goose....
Let's give a round of applause for the parents of the year, shall we? I personally think children should be an IQ test item, but that's me. You can go to the first blurb above for my thoughts.

So, it is with great disgust at the imbecility of this nations lower IQ people that I bid you good night (it's only 8PM! OMGWTFBBQ?????).
See you on the flip side, should be with pictures.

Come back to the five & dime....

2009-07-29T23:08:00.002-04:00

It's been a LOOOOOOONG time, hasn't it?
I'd apologize, but I've had a really sucky July (S.J) and I would really rather NOT apologize for having such an S.J..... Part of this non-apologetic behavior is because the Alternate Dimension moved me back to the phones. People, I would hope (being friends o'mine--and several have worked the same call-centers I have!) that you would never-ever-never-ever cuss out the person on the other end of the line, no matter what you're calling about. Not kosher.
So work has been part of the SJ.
Another part of the SJ is that I got sick at the alternate dementia, during training, actually.
Yeah, sick.
Middle of the freakin' summer and I get a cold. My seat in training was right under the A/C vent that handles the entire front of the 30K square foot building. I was having 60 degree cold blowing on me for 2 weeks. Tends to lower your resistance, and I don't know about where you work, but things spread like wildfire through the call centers.
So I had an ear infection and laryngitis. On the 3rd week of it, I decided it had gone on too long and went to the dr. They were going to give me prednisone again, and I probably would be ALL BETTER if they had, but I talked them out of it.
If you think I'm crazy now, you should see me on prednisone. I turn insane. Seriously, damaging-ly insane. So they gave me antibiotics and some albuterol (ooooh....legal speed!!!) and I'm (mostly) better now.
But then my insomnia kicked in.
And they started mandatory OT in the alternate dementia...

And they turned down my vacation (it was open when I requested it, and most of the days are still showing open!) but apparently I can't take vacation? WHAT??

I can re-request it, but it may take an act of showing my ass to get it.
I don't want to show my ass over this. I want to have my 5 days off in a row so I can finish my leg tattoo and I want 4 days off so I can spend Sic-un's long weekend with him.

A new job or winning the lottery would be nice, but in this economy, yadda yadda yadda...

In other news, HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, Whirlbrain! ... I missed it, I'm sorry. I saw your post, and was just too damn tired to say it then, so...

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY! I'm throwing confetti in your general direction.

I miss my nephew. His voice has changed, he's growing up, and all I wanna do is wander around some of the museums with him.

I miss my momma.

I miss (and I never thought I'd EVER say this)...I miss the sand. I miss the dry. I miss seeing stars.... Yeah, stars. Yeah, we have them here, but.... They call them the Smoky Mountains for a reason, you know.... Mist rising from the valleys and over the top of the ridges and you don't see ANYTHING in the sky. You're lucky if the moon shows its face. So I miss the sky, the open-open sky.
I miss driving straight highways. All of ours are loopy.
I miss drying clothes in a dryer and having them still be dry when you take them out that evening, or the next day. I'm tired of drying clothes and leaving them and having them just have to be re-dried because of the humidity levels.

Oooh. Just remembered. Must. Change. A/C. Filter.
I think I'll do that now.
Hold on.
OK. Changed.

Anyway, there's a whole list of things I miss. I even miss the elegant simplicity of my allergies from Russian thistle. There is no Russian thistle here, just kudzu. And junipers. And lots and lots of unknown plants that leave yellow pollen sticky in the humidity over everything.

So I bide my time and I take the bullshit because you have to in order to have a paycheck above minimum wage in this town. The desert chewed me up and spit me out and now its siren song calls me again...

Damn, I'm rather poetic tonight, aren't I?

C'mon lottery....c'mon lottery.....

How I Relax....

2009-07-13T03:21:00.003-04:00

...after talking to the ill-tempered sheeple all day....

just call me.....

2009-07-11T20:25:00.001-04:00

Hausfrau!

I don't like talking about cleaning. I've never liked doing it, can find what I'm looking for thanks to the very small, very organized person that lives in my head (this vs,vo person sometimes takes weird paths, but can usually find what I want, no matter where I initially left it, then moved it to). So I can live with my clutter, and really don't *like* cleaning. I don't like to vacuum, I don't like washing dishes, and I really hate scrubbing toilets.

Then one of the myriad Marts (K, Wal, or S) had vacuums on sale. Our vacuum is an old beast Richard picked up from his last place he rented from our current landlord. Free vacuum. It's avocado green, a Hoover Convertible upright, from (near as I can tell, at least) the mid-seventies. You have to buy bags and belts online because it is so old you cannot find them locally. The vacuums at the *Mart were only $35, even though they were in funky colors.

The colors piss me off. They're designed to go with the whole 'line' of household goods you're supposed to saddle your kid with going off to college. Funky colors like lime green and bright orange and toxic purple. Are we sending 3 year olds off to college? Please. The *Mart was out of the toxic colors and only had the original color, red. For $42, not $35.

Fuck it, I thought. I'll buy it.

Oh.My.Godsandmonsters.

Our carpet was filthy. Horrendously filthy. I just vacuumed. Better, I just vacuumed without having to check to make sure we had bags and a belt or 2 (we don't have any belts for the old one. None. Not looking forward to finding them for it, either. Once you add in shipping, the belts come out to something like $25 apiece. Not very economical.). I just put the sucker together (clip the handle down into the body), plugged it in and... vacuumed. And the carpet is clean. I had to empty the little cup thing twice (not the fault of the vacuum, but of the lazy hausfrau), but it's clean.

I feel accomplished and am contemplating vacuuming at least 2x a week.

Not a good thing. Or is it?

Dear America,

2009-07-04T23:40:00.003-04:00

Happy 233rd!

I walked through a county court house square
On a park bench an old man was sitting there
I said, "Your court house is kinda run down"
He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town"
I said, "Your flag pole has leaned a little bit
And that's a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it"
He said, "Have a seat" and I sat down
"Is this the first time you've been in our little town?"

I said, "I think it is," he said, "I don't like to brag
But we're kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag
You see, we got a little hole in that flag there
When Washington took it across the Delaware
And it got powder burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watchin' it writing "Say Can You See'
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packinham and Jackson tuggin' at its seams
And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag but she waved on through

She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard and Bragg
And the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag
On Flanders Field in World War I
She got a big hole from a Bertha Gun
She turned blood red in World War II
She hung limp and low by the time it was through
She was in Korea and Vietnam

She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam
Native Americans, brown, yellow and white
All shed red blood for the Stars and Stripes
In her own good land here she's been abused
She's been burned, dishonored, denied and refused
And the government for which she stands
Has been scandalized throughout the land
And she's getting threadbare and wearing thin
But she's in good shape for the shape she's in
'Cause she's been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more

So we raise her up every morning, take her down every night
We don't let her touch the ground and fold her up tight
On second thought I do like to brag
'Cause I'm mighty proud of that ragged old Flag."


-Ragged Old Flag, by Johnny Cash