vote for jcsg's brother-in-law for best blogger. he'll win a $5000 blogging scholarship.
check out his blog on Vox.
getting your voting ya-yas out now, so you can really rock the vote come November 7!
happy halloween
blessed samhain!
my all time favorite holiday. christmas can suck it!
all of our decorations are packed because of the basement remodel, but i did manage a few little items. target was out of candy last night though - so i have to run out today, no biggie.
popped a zofran and a vicodin last night, and was amazed when i woke up and wasn't in pain. you know that commercial, depression hurts - physically? it is 100% true. and i started the big P yesterday and am feeling a little crampy. so it was a little treat i totally deserved it.
boo has her little halloween dress ready to go, but she can't wear it to school. they don't celebrate holidays, just seasons. i can respect that, but it saddens me that she can't dress up for school.
hubbin and i talked a bit last night and we are viewing today and a sort of new years. nothing wrong with incorporating a little of the wicca traditions as well. so my to-do list today is huge. and i have to get her over to nana and papa's at some point.
my first new years resolution - embrace the calm, in every moment i possibly can.
saturday was the day of cousins. sister-in-law dropped off baby zeno around nine in the morning. boo and i played with him all day, then i snatched him away and we had a chat. he's so adorable i can't stand it.
then we went to a cousins' b-day party. one turned seven, and one turned four. i brough along boo's halloween dress and at one point all of the kids who had costumes put them and we all took pictures. it was pretty rad.
i felt bad because my mom expressed an interest in going and i flat out did not want to do it. and when we got there it would have been a nightmare. there were 6-8 steps that someone would have had to carry my mom up and it was just obnoxiously loud. she wouldn't have been able to talk and be heard and that is very frustrating for her. they all missed her though.
and last night after we put boo to bed, hubbin and i went outside and had a bonfire. a little gouda, some seasme crackers, cool air and a bottle of wine. i can't tell you how nice it was.
nothing says it's halloween like waiting in line for an hour for a haunted hayride spooked by shakopee teenagers in hoodies on a warm friday night.
i hate to say it, but i love stuff like that.
the ride was so not scary, and here is proof. there was a little girl on our hayride who was there with her family. she was sitting next to her father. and while i can appreciate not wanting to take a ride with strangers into the woods, she was not in any danger at all.
still as the tractor pulled out and reved up to our top speed of 3 mph, she started to cry because she was scared.
about a quarter of the way into the ride, the tears stopped. she wasn't scared anymore. that's how not scary it was.
still, i gotta give props to all the teens in hoodies - what a great weekend job, i was a little jealous.
so in my newfound love of the crowes, i named a short story after one of their songs. not my favorite song, but when it came on while i was writing it just totally clicked. so here it is.
also, i feel absolutely no guilt, no guilt at ALL about missing class last night. it was a rough day and i had done none of the readings or written anything new. and not that i go to class, just to contribute, because i love going and not saying anything. it's the only time in the week when i am under no obligation to speak.
so read on for my craptastic story. totally not non-fiction, but not fiction either. and i'm betting the vodo would say it's not even a story, and he'd be right. deliciously right.
Neil was never the guy I could give my heart to. No matter how cool I thought his autographed Def Leppard “Hysteria” poster was it deserved better than a cheap plastic cover and duct tape. And while it should have held a place of honor on his wall – the bathroom wall wouldn’t have been my first choice.
I’m not the kind of girl who goes for the big sports nuts. I like a game now and then, but I’m OK if I don’t see Sports Center twice a day. Neil, on the other hand, wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless he had seen a broadcast on ESPN. He missed a morning meeting once because he hadn’t seen the 11:00 PM airing and had to stay up for the one that was on at two in the morning. It ruined his whole day.
Neil took great pride in which team he gives his loyalty to. There is a golden hockey puck on the wall at the Xcel Center with his name on it, since he was one of the first to get season tickets to the Minnesota Wild, or whatever criteria it takes to get a golden puck with your name on it.
Like most people, Neil had two sets of dinnerware and glassware, depending on the occasion. For most of my visits, it was the “casual” pieces; green and gold Wild plastic beer cups and paper plates. For the more formal occasions, the black and red Wild plastic beer cups and a cheap set of Corelle dishes that served only four.
Neil had a beautiful cat named Betty. She was very social and more than once I found her curled up in my coat on the couch. Betty’s approval of me made Neil think that we were made for each other. He’d brag to friends about how much Betty loved me. I think she just liked the finer things in life, like my satin lined coat. I also washed out her food and water bowls whenever I was there and I’m sure she appreciated that as well.
Betty was a working girl, and every night Neil would let her out with his blessing. He’d tell her, very lovingly, to “Have fun whoring it up, Doll.” He had gotten her fixed of course, but she still had her claws. One blurry-eyed morning as I rushed home in the clear chill of 6:00 AM, I accidentally squished Betty’s offering to the master of the house, a small baby bunny. Since I was not about to scrape baby bunny off and wash my shoes, I threw them away and made Neil buy me a new pair. It was the only gift he’d ever bought for me. And from that day on, he’d refer to my feet as the bunny stompers. “You painted the nails of your bunny stompers!” “Damn women, you bunny stompers are cold”. “What’s that smell? Did you step in a dead bunny?”
Neil wasn’t one for phone calls during they day, especially at work. Dating him was like dealing with a ridiculously inflexible cell phone plan. Calls made after five would cost more than calls made after seven. Saturdays were free, but there was a black-out period Sunday mornings until at least noon. In fact, I was so surprised when Neil called me during the day, at work; I had to ask who it was.
“Betty isn’t back! She’s not here, and I can’t find her.” He sounded like a kid lost at a store.
“You’re at home?”
“Yeah, I took the day off when she wasn’t at the door this morning. She always comes home. Always, always, always!”
After I had calmed Neil down, he made me promise to come over after work. I spent the rest of the day basking in the bright light of the new direction our relationship was going. He called me at work! Because of his cat! It was so lame and pathetic, it was sweet. He was at home worried about his cat and waiting for me to come over. I had forgotten about the time he made me take a cab home from the airport, a few weeks earlier. I was coming back from my granddad’s funeral in Arizona. He said he didn’t have the vacation days.
As I turned onto Neil’s street I saw the biggest crow of my life ahead on the side of the road, a bad omen. And as I drew closer, Betty’s disappearance started to make sense. She had been hit by a car. I felt terrible, because she was far enough up the road where I didn’t think Neil would have seen her, unless he had walked up a block in looking for her earlier.
And the thought of having to break the news of his dead cat to him was not a responsibility I wanted to have. Although it was in line with the new intimate direction our relationship was going.
Neil already knew about Betty’s demise, and we spent the night eating pizza off the “good” plates and drinking beer out of the “casual” green and gold cups.
“To Betty” he said, choked up, as if in a commercial.
“To Betty” I said, and we clinked our plastic cups together.
The next day, when I went over to Neil’s Betty was still in the road. She was mostly intact, but the flies around her were visible. Neil said he didn’t have the heart to go get her and that he’d call animal control. A day later, she was still there, a little more flattened than before and the crow was back. The day after that I begged him for a shovel, something, anything; pleading with him to go get her from the street. We could have a service for her in the backyard, I suggested, it would be sweet. But somehow Neil didn’t have the time. The last day she was little more than a large red stain and some hair and I told Neil I didn’t think we should see each other anymore.
ok, so it's been a rough week. aunt mae died sunday night and sue died monday. i read my shit piece for the loft on tuesday and took wendesday off, but still did stuff around the house and played with boo all day. thursday were funeral services for sue and my mom fucking lost it. stoner cousin was glad we were there and slooty even made a brief apperance. today, i have to hit target and the library - hubbin wants to actually read the 9/11 commission - snort!
then i am taking boo over to nana and papa's.
hubbin and i are planning a night out tonight, just the two of us and saturday we are babysitting zeno and going to a b-day party.
on the plus side, boo slept through the night last night, first time in abour a fortnight. seven hours of uninterupted sleep is wonderful.
i have been adding and taking stuff away from the piece that, hopefully, i'll get to read tomorrow at the loft. it's gone through so many revisions now that i can't tell which is which and what is what. time for bed.
my dad told me earlier today that my aunt mae died. she was my grandmother's sister (on my dad's side). she lived in seattle. then tonight, my stoner cousin's hubba called and let us know that his mom died. like an hour ago. here i was watching studio 60 and working on my piece and she died.
they say these things always come in threes. i don't think my mom is ready to go yet, but these things aren't up to her, or me. i'm just not ready to lose her. please don't be three mom, please don't be three.
usually i get burned on these re-entries. someone comes jettisoning back into your life for whatever reason. loss, a random run in, a dream. most of these work out fine. still i'm skeptical. an ex, and this is the ex, the big, major ex, the one i thought i'd end up with and thankfully didn't. let's call him, Tig.
tig and i reconnected recently. and surprise surprise i had just had a dream about him, AND he's coming into town in a few weeks. we talked for about an hour and i hate to say it, but it was probably one of the best conversations we've had EVER.
like i said, the re-entry is never easy and this is like the third one in a month. but i welcome it. if he actually comes to town, and he actually calls me, and we actually make plans to get together and it actually happens, i would be amazed. it would be great to see him, but i have so much other shit going on, that if this is like a shooting star and i was only meant to catch a glimpse, well then i'll make a wish.
the dream i had about him? he threw a cream pie in my face and then said something like, "i'll bet you'll use this as an excuse to break up with me."
there are some wonderful, random moments in my life. one of which just happened. after feeling very blue and e-mailing a lovely friend, i nuked some popcorn, cracked open an orange fanta and clicked on the tube. there was an old katharine hepburn movie on, one that i had seen before, with robert mitchum. and for a few moments things were right with me.
another rought night with boo. around 7PM last night, i told hubbin we should just cancel our plans and stay home. he was disappointed, i don't blame him, but by that time i was dead on my feet. i perked up a little bit and got the guest room cleaned out for his mom.
then we made plans to see The Departed, but before hand we stopped at barnes and noble to bum around.
we got home a little after midnight and that's when boo woke up. it took an hour to get her back to sleep and if i had five new teeth coming it, i'd be fussy too.
and if i thought i was tired yesterday, i am even more so today. even thought she did go down for a nap early and slept for two hours i don't know if that's going to cut it today.
i feel like i am walking in a fog. i have tons to do today and i told my parents that i'd bring her over. it's so hard to have that obligation. i am not complaining mind you, i'm just saying that it's hard.
with a fussy toddler, it's much easier if people come over here, she's in her own space and a meltdown is much easier managed at home than any place else. but because neither of my parents can drive now, it's up to me to deliver her. and according to my father, i am not bringing her over enough.
my eye started to hurt as i just typed that. clearly things are now taxing me mentally and taking a physical toll. when will the fog clear?
it's moving faster than the last time i was on speed
don't you know what i mean?
how about this, last thursday while my father was out of town, my mom, my aunt from iowa and i went to a lawyers office to get some things settled for my mom with her assets and estate. she also changed her power of attorney from me (so i wouldn't be faced with a vested interest in signing some financial paperwork regarding her accounts and whotnot), to my aunt from iowa.
i totally respect her decision to do this, i welcome it. however, i don't agree with the fact that she has not told my father about it. the last time she changed her power of attorney )from my father to me) she didn't tell him. and as we were being interviewed for home health care, they ask about health care directives and all that. and they asked who her power of atty was, my father answered that it was him, and my mother corrected him. that's how he found out she changed it, in front of me and a stranger. that is no good, and i tore my mom a new one about it too.
well, now we are at the point where we need hospice care for her. and again, they had an intake nurse come out and they asked questions about a heath directive and power of atty. and my dad pipes up that i'm her power of atty, so i can sign the papers. and i said, no dad, why don't you do it.
then i gave my mom as scathing of a look that you can give to someone in a wheelchair. she hasn't told my dad that she's changed heer power of atty again. and that is so hard for me. she screwed me the last time i told her that i'd be really pissed off if she did it again.
at the lawyers office, she signed some papers indicating that she would like me to have her half of the cabin and the house in arizona. we signed these forms, they were notorized and my cousin *who is a lawyer and was present at the meeting) said "I can't stress strongly enough how important it is for you to file those papers as quickly as possible."
so i start making plans to fedex my uncle in arizona and make plans to head up north. my dad comes back, my mom tells him about the papers she signed about her half of the cabin and the AZ house and he fucking goes ballistic.
and i don't blame him. seems like everytime he is out of town, something like this happens. now, i'm not claiming innocence here, i know that i have done everything that i possibly could to make sure things are they way my mom wants them. it seems like the only thing that i can do to help her. and if it were him, i'd do the same thing.
i do not however, agree with my mom changing things and not talking to my dad about it. i'm not saying that she has to ask his permission, but she should let him know what she's doing, and why, and how important it is to her.
on his part, he resists everything, every request, every issue is met with anger, argument and debate. he never just says "sure honey, whatever you want." i mean, she's the one dying - why does it seem that he's only thinking about himself?
it makes my stomach hurt and i have a constant feeling like there is never enough air.
so after having it out of the phone with my dad - which i will never speak of again, it was too horrible - and after a sufficent cooling down period, they both tell me not to file the papers.
he told me to rip them up. which of course i didn't do. i asked her if this is what she really wants and if she's ok and all that. she says that she's fine, not to worry and not to file the papers.
i say fine, i won't file them, but i'm not going to rip them up either. and i feel good about that decision.
then, tonight, my mom calls me and tells me that i need to bring over the key to the safety deposit box. my dad wants it.
what?
i am freaking out and it just took me like 20 minutes to make the bed because i have completely lost the ability to function. i called my aunt in iowa and freaked out on her a bit. that made me feel better, but now i have to get my mom alone, make sure this is what she wants, my aunt wants to talk to her, so i have to set up a phone call with them and blah blah blah. i can't see straight.
p.s. the title and quote are from my new favorite crowes song, tornado.
today is hubbin's birthday. i have a babysitter for the night, but since "hollywoodland" has completely disappeared from theatre's i don't know what we are going to do.
also, in case you are wondering what i'm up to, i am having a blast rediscovering the black crowes. i purchased "the lost crowes" and am loving it. and might i add, that gary louris sings back up on a bunch of tracks.
also, for the record, kate hudson, you are a fool. chris, you come cry on my shoulder anytime baby, anytime.
probably the most irresponsible thing i could have done. i committed to the NaNo challange to write a 50K word novel in the 30 days that is November.
i have a good idea of what it's going to be about and i am not expecting to actually do it, but i am expecting to give it a try and do my best.
what better excuse is there to go out and get a new Mac? hmmm....i'll have to think about that one.
i am now in some weird random movie phase in my queue at netflix. I have no idea what is coming and i am not going to look because it's too much fun to get the red envelope in the mail, open it, and ponder, what the hell was i thinking when i ordered this?
such was the case when the jacket showed up the other day. now, as you may or may not know, adrian brody (the star of the movie) is on my DML (dream make-out list). the man is a hungarian sex pot, and let's just leave it at that.
but this movie was so incrediably horrible. i mean, what was the point - it was like the time traveler's wife with an iraq war vet. and keira knightly - my god will someone check this girl into a clinic? give her a sandwich, SOMETHING!
there were tons of scenes with adrian looking lucious and i'm grateful for that, but on the whole the movie was a stinker. jennifer jason leigh, kris kristofferson, and the new james bond guy who is a pox-marked FREAK, sounds like a good cast, but no no no no no!
and there was no sense to it at all, none, seriously...none. i don't know if there was a happy ending or what because you don't know what the big deal is. time travel? come on! crazy person time travel? a bigger COME ON! there was no catharsis at all, you don't know if the character is a good guy or a bad guy and the film really expects a lot from its viewers to get the fact that keira is damaged goods because she drinks in the bathtub on christmas eve. i mean, who doesn't? her life can't be that bad - there is a sex scene.
but next to event horizon, one of the WORST movies i have ever seen. and event horizon at least had the kitch factor going for it. poor adrian. poor, poor sweet adrian.
not off the DML, but i'm hesitant now.
i felt quite literary last night as i attended the reading at the loft with vodo and the little gay guy jcsg loves. jcsg was the belle of the ball and invited a ton of peeps - some i knew, some i didn't. there was a little mini reunion of people from the first class i took (where jcsg and i first met). so i felt like i was one of the cool kids, because i hadn't seen them in forever and it was really nice seeing them again.
i liked vodo's story - the glam cowboys. but it was obvious that he wasn't entirely happy with it and it needed work. which makes me wonder why he chose to read it, other than hearing it and working the kinks out. the cute little gay guy read the first chapter of his novel. i liked that, but i think it's really hard to write down an acid trip. he totally rose to the occasion, i just couldn't see the point of it. guess i'll have to buy the book when it comes out.
after the reading a group of us went to grumpy's. which was fun. i sat next to damon and talked zen. then i chatted a bit with a weirdo who lived in isreal for a few years. sometimes interesting things happen to completely boring people.
i also beaned vodo's girlfriend in the head with an ice cube while trying to get his attention. after i fell over myself apologizing to her she still blew me off. which isn't very nice.
when i got home i had a dream about vodo and jcsg. jcsg had invted me to a party with all of her "other" friends. and vodo was at the party. he had on a headband with bee antenea on it, so i guess he was dressed like a bee. jcsg was in a wheelchair though, and that was a little scary. she had a new sweater though, and i really really wanted it. it was super ugly, lime green with a pink bow around the edges. but i was envious of it. she told me she got it at target and i made a mental note to go to target and look for a lime green sweater.
then the vodo told me that he and his GF broke up and that he has to move out of the house they just bought together. and while i was trying to think of something comforting to say, the vodo hugged me. and the glitter bee antenea brushed against my cheek and hair and i held him for a long time. long enough to smell is hair and skin and be warmed from our bodies being close.
then jcsg got up out of the wheelchair and was walking around. vodo made hamburgers and we all ate on a big bed. it was strange. but i woke up with a huge girl crush on jcsg and i can't wait to see the vodo again on thursday. i kinda love him now.
101.6
that was boo's temp last night as she slid off of daddy's lap and schlepped her tired bones over to me. i hauled her up and snuggled her into "the spot" and started rubbing her back in slow, big, mom circles. hubbin said "she's fading".
she's super sick - runny nose, fever, watery eyes, the whole deal. and it's so obvious that she doesn't feel well. you can tell just by looking at her. i've been giving her tylenol, but since she's gotten worse i did break down and call the nurse line. they suggested children's suddafed or triaminic.
now, to all you crystal meth jerknuts out there - stop ok? just stop! because of you, moms in need can't get this stuff anymore, they don't make it. there is no children's suddafed. and the only infant triaminic is like listerine strips. and i don't know about the dosage. so i've been calling pharmacies and trying to get the nurse line to give me an answer and no one can.
so i'm doing the best that i can with what i have. she's not eating much and all she wants to do is sit on my lap and read books. she's not independent minded at all today. not that i mind, but it's hard to do dishes when i can't put her down.
last night though made it all worth it. she came to me, she knew i'd be there for her and she came to me. she came to me because she felt rotten and wanted her mom. then she got comfy and feel asleep easy as pie. because i'm the mom.
i am the mom.
i am getting little stupid things done today - insurance policy stuff, appointments made, thank you notes written, etc. in going through my little notebook of worth, i came across the writing prompt from last thursday's class. thought i'd share.
a boundry you weren't supposed to cross and didn't
this is easily the tatoo. my mom has always said she will disown me if i ever get a tatoo. now that she's sick, i've been thinking about it more and more. i definetly want to get a tatoo, but hubbin is kinda against the idea. i know that i need to get a tat for my own reasons. but i'll have the tat for forever and i'll have hubbin for forever and if the two don't get along, well, we've got problems.
i know the design that i want to get, and it isn't any "i love mom" type of thing, since the tat isn't about my mom. getting the tat is about my mom, but the tat isn't.
i mean, come on, i'm 35. and i'm still worried about what my mother will think about this. now that she's sick there is no way that i could do it and hide it from her, that's just cruel. but that's not why i'm waiting.
there are some rules and boundries that my mom set down that i broke and crossed without even thinking. seriously, there were times when i couldn't care less about what she thought about me. and i'm glad it was a phase and i grew out of it, but i still respect that place. and more importantly, i respect her. she's seriously against tatoos and i don't know why. probably for the same reason she doesn't like cats, she thinks that if you look at one long enough it will steal your soul. no lie.
so i'm not getting a tatoo anytime soon, at least i hope not. they say that after a loved one dies, you should wait 12 to 18 months before making any big, life changing decisions. i can respect that.
this totally cheered me up. when in doubt, the crowes continue to cure whot ails me.
i wish kate and owen the best because chris really belongs with me, he knows it, she knows it, i know it, now ya'll know it too.
things are hectic and they are legal and they are hospice. the baby is sick and hubbin and i are exhausted. i'd be totally ok with not talking for a week. i tried to read for my class and i couldn't concentrate enough and had to read the same thing over and over and over again.
on the plus side, i had a really great sex dream about a friend that i haven't seen in a long time. i drop him a line and he's totally jazzed to hear from me and we are doing lunch next week.
i'll explain everything later. but for now, just light a candle for me and pray to the moon.