Damn...June already.

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....

...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.

Hello, 41!

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...

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.

Ohmy. Well, Happy New Year to you too!

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!)

And once again...

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.

Let's ask Dante!

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/

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

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?

Playing with photoshop...

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

tales from the fourth....

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?

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.

turning on the lights

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!

I was right!

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.

Early this year...

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.

Making christmas...making christmas...

...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.

I've always depended on the kindess of strangers

...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

What I did this weekend...

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...

...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.