Then I spoke with him on Saturday, and it seems that his rash has returned. He went to an emergency clinic, paid an assload of money for two shots to hopefully clear up the rash and went home to sleep.

He woke up and found bedbugs.

Apparently his rash is an allergy to the little fuckers. So, he bought covers for his awesome bed and is going to choke the little fuckers to death. Given all the traveling I’ve been doing, it was recommended to me that we get a plastic cover for our bed and seal it up so the possible bedbugs have no where to breed.

Have you seen what they look like? *Shudder*

I don’t want those little evil things in my house. But they are everywhere. In theaters. In swanky hotels, and apparently, in my brother’s bed. Ew. I am getting a cover for my bed… tomorrow.

My mother had a big honkin’ piece of ick removed from her face last week. Both my mother and my sister also have their noses pierced. Mom developed a mole right next to the piercing which apparently grew cancerous. She also had another “spot” on the bridge of her nose. What should have been an hour procedure turned into 8 hours with “reconstruction” as part of the process. Mom took a look at her face last night, for the first time since the surgery. She has 28 stitches in her nose. Mom wears sunscreen, and does most of what you are supposed to do to take care of your skin. These moley thingies are prone to this issue. I inherited this moley/freckle thing from Mom so I do worry about myself. Right now I just want her to heal properly. And I know she will. She is sad because they removed the part of her nose where the piercing was, but I am sure she will be happier to be cancer free.

So I read this article in Powell’s newsletter today and she mentions hearing music. The older I get the more often this happens to me, and for some reason it’s always with fans. It’s not just music I hear, it’s voices, mumbling singing voices. It’s kind of beautiful, but was a little disconcerting the first time I heard it (during one of my worst manic episodes, after a terrible incident with a former friend). Now, I hear it all the time when I’m tired. The more I read, the more I understand that no matter how much I want this to, it won’t go away. That is okay most of the time, but like last night, I had 2 hours of sleep. This isn’t sustainable. I may have to start sleeping with headphones so I can concentrate on getting my brain to bed. The other biggest issue is my lack of exercise. I wish I wasn’t so fucking lazy.

We have tried to control nature for too long. Sometimes we need to let her loose. That is not to say that I think fires should be allowed to blanket the peaks of the Rockies, surrounding little pools of civilization like the one where my Mom has her little hotel. No but there needs to be a shock in the ass for those who seek the status quo. Your inaction has succeeded in nothing, only more of a plague. And in the end, the woods these people sought to protect will fall due to their fear of doing the wrong thing.

And this is kind of like the situation I find myself in. I didn’t go to Colorado last weekend to mourn the loss of the forest, or to struggle with memories of what it looked like 7 years ago when I first visited. Nope. I had a purpose, and that purpose was to present a new way to a close family member.  Their problems are not for public consumption, but as of September I will have someone else living in my house. I offered my place for several reasons – I know my city and I love it – I know how terrible fear is and how it can corrupt your soul and keep your feet planted deep in quicksand – I know how it feels to fall on your face and land on your feet – I know how it feels to leave everything you know behind.

Most of all, I know how it feels to hope.

I would never say that moving changes everything. It doesn’t. The problems you have in your current location will follow you like a shadow to your new place. The hope is that the different sun and air can cleanse you of those demons. With a new place, you are reborn. No one knows about your past, your follies, your fears. You can become someone new, better, more shiny, less neurotic.

Or you can be brutally honest, and just tell them how batshit crazy you are. That works for me. I think my crazy is part of my charm… or something (delusions, I love you).  What I hope in helping this amazingly wonderful person out is that they find the life they want and deserve. I am going to do a lot of research, so I can present the right opportunities when they do arrive. I want them to love this city as much as I do, but even if they don’t, I want them to know I love them, unabashedly, and I am actually looking forward to their move. We let life get in the way of things – of connections that should be maintained and love that should be nurtured. This is one I have neglected. I won’t do so again.

Right now they are the last tree surrounded by beautiful copper, and they will perish if no one stands up and drags their ass out of their inaction. So, that is what I did this weekend. I’m action girl, and I will drag them, perhaps kicking and screaming, into a new life.

At least they will be moving then.

Other things I learned in Colorado:

• Living at 9k feet is for big-horned sheep and crazy people. My mother is among those people.
• You can take the redneck out of Florida, but you can’t take the Florida out of the redneck – one of Mom’s employees decided to put gas in the chimenea…which was only 6′ from the house. I think she fired him today. Get it….fired? Hehehehhe… I kill me.
• I am still angry at a lot of people. I need to get over that. I just wish Mom and my stepfather would get divorced so we can move on. This is exhausting me, and I’m not even involved.
• I can totally stick my head out of a window, going 70, for two hours and still have fabulous hair. It’s the purple… it works every time.
• Hand signals + slow drivers = making friends on the highway. Needless to say I made a lot of friends on the road, and I wasn’t even driving.
• I turn into a raisin in Colorado. No. Humidity. I thought I was going to die.
• Thunderstorms are amazing, and I miss them.
• I should not run through the airport in Denver. I can’t run in Portland, much less at that altitude. I thought my head would explode.
• My brother and I would totally get into a bar fight with anyone that looks at my sister funny. She’s the pretty one. I’m the one with the temper and the low center of gravity.
• With the iPad, I will never travel with my laptop ever again. It was perfect for writing, watching movies, and killing time. My 15″ macbook often gets bumped when the sloth in front of me lays back his seat. iPad = tiny = no problem.
• I love and miss my siblings.

This was a little disjointed since I’m not trying to call out the loved one I’m helping. Sorry. Sometimes that’s the way the blog bounces.

I’ve made birthdays a big thing. It’s the one day I think that everyone should drop everything for their friends and show the fuck up. My birthday has become the day of disappointments. It fractures the fragile bonds I hold sacred. It just mucks things up.

This year, it would do none of those things.

David worked his ass off to make sure I was happy. We woke. I made a lovely meal. We played WoW until the evening, when we jumped into the shower to make ourselves presentable. The time spent at Alu really solidified things (by the way, they have the COOLEST front door…and a little fire pit..and popcorn w/ curry, and little tags on your wine so you know what you drank and if you liked it…brilliant little place). My birthday may be important to me, and David and my family, but I can’t expect the everyone to understand. The universe didn’t even see fit to grant me my first rejection (this waiting game is killing me). What it did give me was my first birthday in years without tears.

And that is a beautiful gift.

That is honestly because of David, not the universe. So thanks, honey.

David also made me fall back in love with my camera again. He rules. I heart him.

I don’t hold with a few of Facebook’s privacy policies. I have that profile locked down completely, but my blog is open. You will probably know more about me from this place than from Facebook. I know it seems contradictory, but I want my address and cell number hidden, thank you very much. Also, it’s no one’s business who I am connected with. I look at this blog like a mirrored room. I’m in here, doing my thing, making an ass out of myself but the windows are mirrored so I can’t see who looks in. In all honesty, I don’t care. I know that my family has read this, friends, perhaps old acquaintances. I hope no possible jobby jobby people reads this, but I’ve locked down most of the posts that dealt with jobs. Except that “I got laid off twice in one year” thing. No, everyone can read that.

It sucked.

I share the suck.

Back to facebook. So I’ve found:

• my first boyfriend when I moved to Miami in 94 (he is happily married now and has a ridiculously adorable dog)
• the guy who inadvertently started the breakup between me and the bastard that almost ruined my life (we went to see Bauhaus together and the ex had nautical hissy fit – thank god for Bauhaus)
• the only man who was ever able to call me a princess with a straight face and I didn’t punch him (he actually meant it, perhaps that is why I loved him so…he saw something in me I still don’t see)
• a friend I used to bite because I thought it was funny (yes, I acted like a toddler back then) and a few people who knew me by a completely different name (the interwebs and chat rooms were newish back then, so I was Q for a long time… long story).

It’s been amazing catching up with many of them, and it makes me wonder where the rest of them wandered off to. Where is my ex-roommate who danced with me and kissed me on the sidewalks of Ybor City, or the friends who danced with me to DJ Icey until the sun rose that FIRST time (I ditched a date to hang out with them),  or the former coworker I had a terrible crush on but with who ended up being one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. I wonder about the people I’ve hurt – the former best friend who had a thing for me but who I abused (never take people for granted), or the other friend who got caught between my destructive relationship and my need to move on. Maybe they will find me on facebook too. Maybe not. I’m just happier knowing where some of these characters ended up, many of them happy and settled. Oh, but the wild nights we used to have…. there are stories I could tell.

This weekend started off well. It’s been hotter than the devil’s taint, here in loverly Portland.  The hubbie and I gallivanted down to an impromptu happy hour with some of my favorite people from work. Then we geeked out at the casa and ignored the fact that we really need to clean (Cats should seriously have to shave themselves in the summer. Valentine’s hair has gotten ridiculous). I’ve been bitching about it all summer, the whole 5 days we’ve actually had this summer. Saturday we spent time at a favorite watering hole with a favorite friend who, no matter how many times we talk, shocks me with her intelligence and wit. And, holy god, does she have some funny stories. It’s the hardest I have laughed since residency.

Then on Sunday, put on my Grumpasarus pants.

I lost the domain name for my other site. How many Erica McEacherns are running around out there? A few, as far as I can tell, and one of them snagged the domain name that has been under my control for 2 years. But I didn’t pay attention to the e-mails and hollering from godaddy and so now I don’t have the fucking site.

I’m very bitter about this.

I.Should. Pay. Attention.

I get so much crap in my email these days that I ignore most of it. I am waiting for a very important e-mail from a woman I have dubbed Awfulsauce. But that is a story for later in this blog post.

CHICKEN!

I’m listening to a really good song right now – “Warning” by Great Northern. Hmmm… I should remember them and check out the rest of the album (I love you Pandora…. Loooooooveee youuuuu).

Back to the bitching. So, to torture me, I keep getting e-mails about the status of my former site. I then, in a knee-jerk reaction, purchased two new domains, which I will be working on getting up and running in the coming days. Thank god my other site is hosted by Squarespace… didn’t lose anything, just the name.

Fucking douche.

In the same month, our car was hit in the parking lot at New Seasons and our radio died. It’s not actually dead. Dead would be okay. Dead would not tempt me by playing music at mid level and now allowing me to change the song. Dead would not tease me with a radio button that doesn’t work. Dead is fine. No, the damn thing half-works. I need to order a new faceplate from Alpline. I just haven’t. Our car also got banged up by some fucktard at New Seasons when I ran in to grab lunch. It’s not worth filing an insurance claim, it just looks like shit. I wish someone would throw the car off a cliff.

No radio.Bad paint job when we had it fixed from the accident and a radio that was never installed correctly when it got ripped out last summer.

I hate that car, but I miss NPR in the morning.

School was amazing. This is the first term that no one was graduating, so when we would normally trod off to thesis readings, we had time, and lots of it. Too much time, if you ask me,  because idle hands do the devil’s work and apparently my devil really likes to drink (I know this is a shock to you all…it’s okay. I only really drank to excess 2 out of the 6 nights we were there). There were again jokes that were made that still make me giggle, but Zorro just isn’t funny to other people (It happens…in your EYE!). I ended the week with a less functioning liver, many bug bites, a new thesis project, grass stains on my favorite jeans, mystery bruises, corgi hair on my sweater,  a fun button that mentions my Twitter addiction, new friends, and lots of big dreams.

So, speaking of dreaming. I have had the lovely Calie as a crit partner for 2 years now (god help her). We were told that we had to have a third person in our group. Now, Calie and I are kind of snarky. We can deal with each others bitchiness and flaws because we truly love each other and we have no qualms about calling the other out. In truth – we are honest in the most vicious way. This attitude and way of working is not feasible for many of our school cohorts. Only the strongest of bitches can put up with us, and that woman would be Ven. Now Venessa is a recivitus, and a full time editor. She’s also willing to spank me, so it is the best of all worlds.

During the residency, a few agents came to work and speak with the alums. I am techincally an alum, but since I am back in school to get the “F” or get “F’d” as it were, I didn’t have a chance to participate in any of the alum stuff. They had pitch sessions that the alums could sign up for, and Ven was in charge of getting them filled up and keeping the agents happy (that woman is a workhorse and can juggle monkeys. I’m sure she can.), which mean getting all the pitch sessions signed up for. We were upstairs, and I think I was probably bitching about day 3 of my hangover when she demanded I go downstairs and sign up for a pitch session.

Truth? I’ve never written one.

Truth? I don’t have a synopsis.

Truth? I hate talking about my book because I always feel like I’m saying the wrong thing.

Truth? I was scared shitless.

Ven and I went to the room to sign up. A woman was signing little tickets for the raffle next to us when I began bitching about not know what the hell I was doing. The woman, with a hungry smile, sat me down and had me practice pitch to her, had me answer some questions (It made me feel amazingly stupid when I didn’t realize what my conflict was) and then proudly told me that I’d just pitched. Then Ven told me who it was.

One of the agents.

Who is known to be beastly.

And then I signed up to do a formal pitch. I still had an entire class to get through prior to the pitch. I will admit to not paying one iotia of attention. I wrote my pitch. Ven was in the class with me and found a lovely handout generated by another student that walked us through how to write one. It was an amazing document. So, we both wrote our pitches (she was to go right after me), and then I snuck out of class early to go downstairs and deal with the agent.

I heard her reject someone right before I went in.

My stomach fell into my toes.

And then with a laugh that could shake buildings she called me in. I don’t know if it is polite to state who I spoke with (I’m going to err on the side of caution here), but she made me laugh. She was so easy to talk to  and her laugh was inflectious, but she still scared the hell out of me.

Then she requested a full manuscript.

I didn’t pitch my book. She liked me. So, she wanted my book.

Life is strange.

I tried to hug her later and she kicked me (or poked me… I may have a been a touch overserved), but Awfulsauce seemed happy to meet me, and I was more than pleased to meet her. Now I’m just waiting for my first, ever rejection. At least it’s going to be a big one. By the way, in her contacts list, my profession is listed as: Awesomesauce. I met another lovely agent during the weekend, but I think I was too drunk when I tried to pitch to him. He may or may not have asked for pages, but I was so embarrassed about my drunkenness then I didn’t send a damn thing. I am only regretting it a little.

I am also starting on a new thesis project. When I wrote my first book (which was my thesis for my MA), I had no clue what I was doing, or what I was getting myself into. I painted myself in a few corners with the story and the limits I set for the characters. I felt comfortable with those characters though, so I started book 2 with my MFA. That sounded like a grand idea but I’m tired of those annoying little buggers. In all honesty, they are not cooperative and the characters I want to focus on decide to retreat to the shadows and pout, or smoke crack, or make fingerpuppets out of napkins. I don’t know what the hell they are doing back there, but they are not helping the story. I’ve had another idea, a type of female character I’ve wanted to write for a while. So when I submitted a peice to be critiqued at school I wrote something new, something that made me happy, something I had fun writing. The peice was well recieved. My DeMentor lead the workshop where we cut it to peices, but overall, they liked it. And I like that they liked it. And then the DeMentor turned to me and said, “You are changing your thesis to this, right?”

I smiled. The bastard was right. Book 2 has not been fun to write. However this new thing has been. And I’m getting all crazy and writing in first person (Calie is going to kick my ass for this because I generally hate 1st person, but she’s doing it pretty well… maybe I can too). So that will be what I’m working on for the next 6 months.

Oh, and I got an iPad. I LOVE IT.

I think that covers most of the madness in the last few weeks. I should get back to working on things that need to be completed. My life is going to be wicked busy come these next few months. Things I am looking forward to: World Fantasy Con, the Willamette Writers con thingy in August, dealing with some family stuff, a trip to Seattle with a close friend, and my freaking birthday. I don’t care much for the birthday, but the rest of it will rock. Now, back to your regularly scheduled madness….

• D got a job, thank the gods. He is working for an educational nonprofit that makes modules for teaching children. The good thing is that he gets to draw all day – weird stuff like beakers and hurricanes and dragons. The bad thing is that they are underpaying him by a mile. That being said, he’s got a job so we are content.
• My job is going well. I grew very close to my boss very fast, and then the bitch moved to Seattle. How DARE she! So D and I have made a few trips up there to visit, and since she and her boyfriend have family 45 minutes north of us, they are down here quite often. It’s interesting when you meet someone that you really just click with. We laugh a lot, about juvenile stuff. She isn’t as political as I am and she is defiantly girly, but in a grrrly kind of way. I adore her boyfriend (who is so tall, when I hug him, it feels slightly inappropriate) and D and I love spending time with them. Selfishly, I wish she had stayed in Portland, but she didn’t. Maybe one day we will move to Seattle…one day.
• Oh yes, the job thing. Well I am keeping most of work out of this blog. It is safer for everyone. I like what I do. I love my window office. I am blessed to have a job and am learning a lot about myself and the world around me. It’s good to be able to pay the bills.
• My sister and her family finally got orders and moved from Tacoma. Now they are in St. Joeseph, Misery. It was harder to say goodbye to my sister than I thought it would be. I know it’s not permanent, and a few more miles will do nothing to lessen our relationship. But there was something nice about saying “Hey, I’m coming over this weekend” and actually being able to do it in reasonable time. They bought a house in St. Joe, so they won’t be moving in the foreseeable future. D and I won’t leave the Pacific NW. We love it here, so our almost 3 years of living close will probably never happen again. I’m grateful for the relationship I have with my sister. I think I have grown as a person being exposed to her kids. I still don’t like kids, and I think bad parents should be shot with a rubber-band gun. That will never change, but I don’t loathe kids as much as I used to. They can stay on the planet for now. But they better not make a mess.
• I am BACK at Seton Hill University. There were rumblings that they were going to try to change the program from an MA (Master in Arts) to the better MFA (Master in Fine Arts), which is a terminal degree. It happened faster than the school anticipated, and so two weeks after I graduated, they sent us letters telling us we could come back for the “F” part of our MFA. What does this entail? I need to start a new work, so all the work I did on my first book is independent of what I have to work on now. I still have a crit group (more on that later), I have 5 classes to take online, in conjunction with 2 residencies. Right now I am in a Horror class and the Teaching Popular Fiction class. Anyone that graduated with the MA can come back and take these classes, and get an MFA. Sounds grand, right? Well the workload is easily tripled for those of us who are coming back. These additional online classes are wonderful, and if I had the spaced out one in a term, it would be perfect. Right now I am taking two and I feel overwhelmed. My muse and I have had long discussions about my work and she and I both agree that this has stopped that forward motion in my writing life. Next term will be worse – I’ll be in 3 classes. God help me.
• I have reconnected with certain friends lost to infantile arguments. Sometimes I need a break, we all need a break. I could be more skillful in relaying my needs to others, but sometimes I’m just dumb. It feels good to have these people back in my life. The time apart was fruitful for both of us, I think. And now we know what we were missing, what we threw away in fits of stupidity. I will be more forthcoming next time, and more forgiving.
• I planned on seeing my birthdaughter for the firs time in years this month, but the trip was postponed due to her family health issues. She’s 16 now, the same I was when I got pregnant with her. I remember it like it was yesterday, feeling so scared, so alone, so freaked out that I was going to California to give birth when my home was in North Carolina. They say that you change after situations like that. I felt like I boarded the plane to California as a young, immature, scared kid. I left as a damaged woman, with leaky breasts, and a irreparably shattered heart.  Sixteen years later, I know that she is in great hands, and she’s grown up to be a beautiful young woman. But I will always remember holding her when she was a day old, and I promised her I would do right by her by becoming a better person. I hope I’ve succeeded.

Whew! That was a lot. Of course, that was not everything, but it is enough for now. It feels good to blog again. I am headed to World Fantasy Con in October with my lovely, charming, and brilliant crit partner. It should be tons of fun. Right now, though, I need some damn coffee.

I will admit to keeping one out. It’s about my birthdaughter and was intended on being a private post. And it was from last summer. Some know the details, but I have no right to write about her in such a public setting if I am sharing such things.

But here are the rest. They are in a random order. The bold parts were the blog titles. Enjoy.

Day 4 – Leslie B. - I still think that painting had cows coming out of a gold sky, not more fucking angels. Pretzels, barefoot, and the same questions every semester. You make me miss school.

Little intrusions into our life – I am still quite annoyed that IE doesn’t have spell check. I sound like a moron, with all these typos (and apparently I spell lightning – lightening…. I dunno. It made sense).

My soul is whole – He’s home. We got a call from a nice guy who lives a few blocks away from us.

Tearing my hair out and sweating – I’ve been silent because I’ve been writing. It’s slow going, honestly. I spent many nights just sitting in front of my computer, trying to figure out what I needed the story to do. Then I lost my mentor’s e-mail address. It’s just been a fucking mess. The good thing is that I’ve got 30 pages due on August 10th, and I am starting a writing schedule. No more dicking around, god damnit (I’m in a cursing mood…. feh).Before you ask, no I’m not working. We will discuss that later. I would like to talk about my birthday. It fucking rocked. Alexis came down from Tacoma, C came over, and Amanda got to Portland that very day, so we all bounced downtown for some dinner. It was a good meal.

I’m awake before noon - I don’t know if WordPress (and my site for that matter) has changed the time when I blog, although its been so infrequent lately. But, ladies and gentle-dorks, I would like to talk about sleep. It’s three, sometimes four in the morning before I hit the hay. It’s weird to think that many of my Florida friends are already at work, or getting ready by the time I get to sleep. The sunset/sunrise times have also thrown me off. When we moved here, it wasn’t getting dark until after 9:45, and then the sun would rise super early

Privacy - There are some things that I think I need to hash out, mostly with myself. That being said, I’ve noticed an increase in traffic from “unknowns” and I know who, at least some of them, are. So, in order to protect those I love, I am going to lock a few things down for a while. There’s a lot of trauma in my family right now, strife between the members and things that shouldn’t be said out loud. I’m not closing my mouth at all, but I won’t allow my opinions to become ammunition against those I love. If there’s a locked post, it will have its usual password (if you don’t l know it — e-mail me).

The trip is almost over. Lex and I are in a hotel room in Idaho.

Running out - It’s official. I am out of meds. What to do? I’ve spoken with D about it and we agreed that I could go to walgreens and get raped for my lamictal, but the healthier (heheh… interesting how that works out eh?) option is to try to control my manic depression on my own. How? Diet, exercise, honest observation of triggers, making myself sleep and …and just trying to pay attention. I won’t go batshit immediately because I do have a decent buildup in my system, but the chemical protection will erode with time, and in about a month, I will be without any kind of chemical help. This wasn’t a choice I wanted to make. My insurance ran out with my last job, and I fluffed the system enough to give me a little leeway until we got to Portland. But, I still don’t have a job. So, no help with the meds. It would cost more than our car payment for my medications…. how fucking insane is that ?

I’ve not talked about grad school much here. I’m setting up a seperate (see: proper) blog for my book reviews and such. But I really feel lost sometimes.

Cutout - First day – I had first day of work jitters last night. Would they like me? Can I do the job? Do they have good coffee (my prior place of employment had shite coffee)? D called at 8:10, but by that time my two alarms had already interrupted my sad attempts to fall back to sleep. I stayed up too late, worrying. And so when the morning came, I wanted to go back to sleep, like I have been doing for months. But that was a no-go.

When I got to the office, coffee and water in hand, I was greeted by my boss, who we will call P, and the GM named A. I met everyone else, smiled, waved, and then almost fell out of my seat when P began dictating the list of things I had to accomplish. Then he left, and I realized, with shame, that I didn’t know how to do anythign on the list, so I started small and arranged my desk. It’s not that the job will be hard, because it won’t, but getting the hang of a new system of protocols, rules and regulations will take time.

Links - * The Ironman trailer — D’s excited. I’m less than thrilled. The flying scene does look really nice, but I don’t know about the rest of it.
* We watched the trailer for the Bionic Woman. I had high hopes (I still love Battlestar), but it looked like crap. The story was poorly executed and the characters felt super flat. I think that they should take their time developing the characters, because then it makes for a deeper connection. Perhaps these issues had something to do with the problems with the show. Then again — it could just be crap.

When it rains…. - Jeezus. So, it’s been a busy little trek through the life of me. On top of family issues, tension in the home, and conflicts/issues with extended family connection — welll I feel like I’m drowning.

I need valium - Or a stiff cocktail.

It’s snowing!! - I am cooking lunch, wearing my purple fuzzy socks and a smile. Oh, and clothes too. Perverts.

for me – I’m fucking angry, and I don’t think that I need to submit the rest of you to this, but there’s a lot that’s pissing me off right now, so this will be protected.

my family is pissing me off… specifically my stepfather. For the first timein my life I realized that I’ve never really had a father.

Ketchup… – Or catch-up. which ever you prefer.

The halloween party was a hit. I dressed up as a white trash preggers person, with curlers in my hair and all.

Do we still need animal testing? – And does it really work?

I don’t know, and am scared to ask, what kind of trails were used for my meds. There have been several cases recently where drugs

Is this fair? – I know that you still speak with the one that slighted me. And I thought that I was a grown-up about it, but I’m not. How can you even think to associate with someone who hurt a person you care about? Anne had it right — you should choose. I’ve tried to be the bigger person here, but I’m immature when it comes to this kind of thing. You are going to keep her in your life, keep contacting her although she took you for granted and used you. And it pisses me off to no end. Where is the loyalty? Why is this such a problem for me? And I know you will keep talking to her, no matter how fucked up that situation was. And I know that you will keep her around, and I know that it will effect our relationship because I don’t believe in supporting someone or being friends with someone who is such a cunt.

I told you how I felt about it. and perhaps I should be clear about things. Perhaps I should stop bullshitting you, but I’ve tried to be the bigger person and its not working.

Where you sleep – My sister wanted to sleep between D and I. I told her that the dogs already had that position — chastity beagles. She said she would “woof” if we wanted. My sister is twisted and she always makes me giggle. There was lots of family conversation last night, but the most important thing was the solidification of the plans for May. I am graduating in a few months. I am scared. But my family is going to stay at mi casa for the 5 days they are going to be in town. Cat’s trip is shorter than she first thought, but we are going to drag her and Jewlie to dinner at Babbos. (there will be no argument Cat!). I was very proud of myself yesterday. I bought a queen sized mattress for someone to stay on. I am planning ahead. Go me!

I accidentally put too much sugar in my coffee. Gah!

I have my first midterm today. These years, this point, so close to completion, I am fucking terrified.

Dark to Light:

On an introspective note – We are coming up on the 3 month mark until the move. The plans for homes and jobs and such are coming together. But I realized yesterday, I won’t see summer with Seemore. The other students at Rollins are talking about summer classes and bitching about the lack of Humanities cores available in the fall.

I thought about it while I drove – Do Conservatives write poetry? Does the Christian Right (wrong) find inspiration from writing verse or essays that are reflective or creative versus bombastic condemnation with poorly chosen metaphors?

Changes to come – I am learning a lot more about the abilities and possibilities with WordPress,

Walking on Sunshine – I called my mother, my daughter’s family, my sister, my brother, and a few friends and told them all about my good news. My birthdaughter seemed only slightly impressed. I was happy to hear that she’s no longer failing Science, and that she got an A in PE. Did I ever tell you how I used to get bad grades in PE because I wouldn’t dress out ? Seems the apple and the tree have something in common. The Birthdaughter and her mother are going to Australia on Saturday. I’m jealous. She offered to take me along.

Boogers and fleas - Good god. My head is killing me. K i l l i n g …. meeeeeee. I would like to crawl into a hole and die right now. It’s making my eyes tired. I’m nauseous. Does anyone have a drill so I can relieve the pressure? An axe? An exacto knife? please?

I’ve had this headache for two days now. It started before I left work yesterday, and although I love my Composite Novel class, I had to squint through the pain. I thought sushi would cure my ailment. It didn’t. I pouted for the rest of the night. It doesn’t help that the beasties has fleas.

So, I am going to whine now. Ready? You sure?

What you won’t hear - Mom called last night, just to tell me she was calling not to bitch. I talked to her the other night, and she did bitch. I don’t mind those conversations. I enjoy them, actually. Although she’s my parental unit, she’s also one of my closest friends, so it feels good when she calls to bitch. But you won’t hear me relay the details of those conversations. I wouldn’t know what to tell you. Our family, like so many others, has bumps and bruises and scars and imperfections and all those other nasties that no one likes to talk about. Through the addictions, denials, abuse and fear – we came to love each other, building around the scars, and coming up with something amazingly flawed but clean. Our conversations often analyze the bits of our family that don’t work.

She’s always questioning my meds. When I told her that I was taking myself off the Seroquel, she balked. But she doesn’t have to watch me tear through the fog every morning. She knows I’m not a morning person, but that shit adds a level of fuzziness that’s almost too hard to overcome. I think she fears for my sanity, but often forgets that I have D to remind me to eat and sleep and breathe and relax. Not that I am completly incapable, but it’s good to have that voice and embrace to stabalize things. But, you won’t hear us talk about her depression or her drinking.

Untitled - Search back, deep in those memories blurred by time. Think of ice cream and running barefoot in the street. What did the sun feel like when you were a child? When you carried little and understood even less.

*snicker* - So, they are trying to lock down the internets at work. First, they finagled with my Windows Media Player downloads, then they started blocking radio sites altogether. I find this amusing for two reasons. One: if you have any kind of creativity and you know how to use Google, then you can usually bypass this kind of crap.

Recap – I spent Friday on the couch. Why? Jager. Jager is evil and we are still not sure how many actual shots I had. But I had a lot of Blackthorn, and I laughed and cried a lot. The afternoon started off with a bang. I went to ABC and bought some wine, and then met the class at the Woolson House for the last class. We were supposed to have a read-around, and we did, but I pulled blog posts and cried because one was about my birthdaughter. I heard lots of wonderful stories, and one of my compadres, Kyle, read poetry. His words amazed me. You can’t buy talent like his. So, class started to end, and I felt the tears and emotion well up. I was okay until I hugged Dr. Dunn. She made me cry.

Full time veggie – It’s not hard being a vegetarian in Portland. Most restaurants don’t just accommodate, they take pride in their vegetarian options. If they don’t have something specifically for vegetarians, most are willing to rework a dish or two to satisfy us. I am a full time vegetarian. I had been for many years, a part time vegetarian. I would like to say it was a moral choice, and admittedly, it was to some degree.  But most of what kept me from eating meat was the amount of cash it took to make such dinners. And cleaning flesh, be it deboning chicken thighs, or cutting the gristle off a steak, grossed me the fuck out. The only thing I loved to cook and eat meat wise was bacon. Yes, I know it’s the french fries of the meat world – little (or no) nutritional value, full of fat and cholesterol.

But it tasted so damn good.

Coffee - Some rituals beg for a re-try. Julie, Cat and I used to have weekly coffee at the Barnies (now a Starbucks) in the plaza on Bumby and Colonial. We’d talk about relationships, school, etc. You know, the nice bs that makes friendships run. But Cat moved and that tradition died. Julie and I always intended to meet for coffee again, but we ended meeting at school, as that was the easiest place since we were both there so much. Last night Julie and I met back at the old Barnies and talked about the next 6 weeks. She’s due when we leave.

D would like this chocolate figure more than any other. I wonder if I can do this with dark chocolate? Hmmm..

the boxes build - My hand has hurt all week, and I don’t know why. I was hesitant to go back to the doc, because I know they would just say it is carpal tunnel, but there’s something really wrong this time. My grip is weak. My fingers are shooting with pain, not constantly, but its there. It is hard to type. I hate this.

With the futon gone, the front room is quickly becoming the center of the move. Boxes of books tower over boxes yet to be filled and it si all starting to scare me now. Things seem kind of uncertain. Did I mention that we have too many books? I haven’t been able to touch the other stuff, the knick knacks and whatnots, but there will not be enough boxes to contain it all. Dumpster diving is in my future…unless…. you know where I can find boxes. Do you?

We found more stuff to get rid of. I’ll post a list here.

Overheard - You gotta watch out for Jamaicans. They’ll shoot you. They ain’t got no remorse.

—

What was your GPA?

3.5 something

That’s crap!

Good morning headache - I feel all whiney. Gah!

D and I watched Pan’s Labyrinth last night. There’s a silly litte story about getting the movie (and I want the soundtrack!!). D, because he is the greatest husband ever, bought the movie for me last week when it came out. He thought he bought the two disk edition. The packaging was misleading and we found that he bought the normal versions.

Sore sore sore – I’m walking funny from Tuesday’s class, and tonight I am going to hop around like a monkey and try to stretch these aching legs of mine out.

Day 44 – 54 -  Regarding Families – I’m way behind with this, because of Grannie’s death and my inability to put fingertip to keyboard. This is the Meow playing catch up again. Deal with it

Day 44 -Dude from Jet Blue

I wrote down your name so I could tell Jet Blue how much you rocked. Your unusual name has been lost with a discarded boarding pass. Lex and I meant well.

Day 45 -Meredith

What a woman you are about to become. I see the bitchy tomboy in you, and understand why the fights with your brothers. Someday, everyone will grow up, and you’ll be friends.

Day 46 – Tommy

You remind me of my brother, gargantuan smartass. I see you trying to struggle outside the shadow of your brother. The Air Force will give you wings. Use them well.

Day 47 – Michael

Oldest, like me, so I’m allowed to say this. It’s time for you to grow up and show our family what you are capable of. You still need to earn “Bartz.”

Day 48 – Martha

I didn’t expect what I got. I admit I was wrong about you. While we are vastly different, there’s commonality. I’ve grown up and you’ve grown more tolerant. Isn’t’ it interesting?

Day 49 – Charlie

Aloof, but so proud of your wife. I cried when I watched you and Mom dance. Distant, but eager to share love and memories. And you have great taste in wine.

Day 50 – Riley

The little DJ, the sensitive, understanding, loving one. You have the best of our family in your heart. It’s going to be hard growing up, but remember your family loves you.

Day 51 – Zach

The big brother, smartass like the rest of us, tall, wicked grins, full of mischief and energy. You were a great host, and too entertained by the Garcia kids’ bad language.

Day 52 – Claire

Day 53 – Gramps

Day 54 – Marybeth

the outfit – The interview went really well. I’m not tooting my own horn, but interviews are my forete. It’s the resume shit that takes me forever to work out. But the company is teensy, and piggybacked on a larger company based in Canada. I would be working with a subcontractor

Bringing you up to date – Lots of things to talk about, but I’m focusing on the good stuff. I spent so much time bitchign about things that I (and others) can forget what grace is given to us.

Welcome to the beaglehouse – We got the house. We move on Friday. This is the bigger of the two houses, the one I was talking about on Friday. It’s very exciting, the whole moving thing. What isn’t so exicting is that the landlady decided she was going to try to pull her ass out of the fire and sell the house before the bank siezes it. Nice thing to do, but she sent over a realtor on Saturday with a prospective buyer. I thought she was comng.

Worried – I moved from Florida for a lot of reasons that don’t really need to be reiterated. The weather in Portland is gentle, nurturing, and rarely violent. And sometimes I forget how spectacular thunder is. But I won’t ever forget Hurricane Charley, ever.

Now Hurricane Gustav is roaring in the Gulf, heading for Cuba, and some of his rain bands are effecting Central Florida – where I still have friends and family. There won’t be a direct hit on our old stomping grounds, but the bastards is headed for a direct confrontation with Louisana, and especially New Orleans.

Close the door - And in the final throes of insincerity and lack of compassion, I listen to people in my office talk about how Spanish is an offensive language, and that the inclusion of foreign languages in American society is a result of lazy immigrants. Of course, they didn’t say such with any word more than two syllables and in a dictionary for lazy American speakers with little education and narrow minds.

Today, I am glad that I am leaving. Friday can’t come fast enough. In a panic, although I gave my notice a full month ago, the office is swirling around because there’s a shit load of work on my desk and not enough time to do it in. I tried to care, I really did. But the nazi, who gave me a card some months ago telling me how proud she was of me, pushed herself into my peripheral vision and refused to say anything to me until I pulled the headphone out of my ear. I’m not classically organized. I know where most of my stacks are and what they mean. I don’t have labeled folders and tabbed files. Piles work for me. She’s always been horrified by my lack of “organization.” Well have fun, lady. You can hire whomever tickles your pickle. But I would love to be a fly on the wall when I go. They will talk the most heinous shit. I’m not going to be here to intimidate, bully and protect. It’s easy to kill the memory of me. It’s harder to do it to the person. But I’m not concerned. I did my best to be a good person. It didn’t work all the time, but I tried.

What I won’t miss

• The continual comments about the inferior nature of the immigrant populous and how they are polluting our society — you know what, motherfucker? Go work on a roof in Baldwin Park, send most of your money back to your family, and work every day from sunup until sunset, and then bitch. Add insecurity of being in a foreign culture, of being looked down upon, and then tell me your attitude is justified.
• Defending my vegetarianism and belief in animal rights —- I don’t care if you hunt animals.

One more nail in the coffin – Talked to the overlord/property manager last night. I swear to god, baby jeezus and all those fun-loving saints that this woman only likes to talk to me and hates D. Which is strange. I’m the bitchy one in the family. Anway, our conversation went well. She needed an end date for our lease, and in a surprising move of generosity, never made us sign an addendum for the extension. I guess living there for three years, paying our rent on time, not freaking out when the roof got shorn to shit in Hurricane Charley, fixing things without bothering them and not pissing off the neighbors has payed off. I also asked her for a recommendation, because as much as it chaps my ass, we are going to have to rent when we get to Portland. Logistally, it makes the most sense. But she has an end date now, and I’ve promised smiles and cooperation. It’s not smart to leave things on bad terms, even when she did show up that one time, unannounced. That visit cost us 350 bucks! It’s hard to hide a second beagle. My parental units are overlords property owners, so I should know better. Oh well. I just hope they don’t try to bleed the rock dry when we move. We can’t afford it.

Snips of an update – This is going to be in bullet form because I’m  still working my assy off and trying to get everything done while working full time. What a pain in the ass! (but a good one)

• Wool Coats – I thought we were headed for the heart of autumn, D and I hunted for winter coats. We bought some half assed coats last fall and froze through most of the cooler weather. This time I found a great wool coat that complements my womanly figure. I love it. It’s heavy, black, military inspired, but more fashionable. I think all that time off watching “What Not to Wear” really rubbed off on me.
• I Heart my iPhone – D and I did what irresponsible people do and finally switched phone companies with that 2k check I received from Rollins. I have wanted an iPhone since they came out, and by George, we got em. And it is as spiffy and groovy as I thought it would be. The funny part, in a not so funny kind of way, is that the functionality that I ached for – being able to check e-mail, facebook, websites, without detection, is an unnecessary thing now. My current employers don’t give a shit where I go to, as long as I get the job done. But it’s good to have the capabilities with GPS. I’ve already used it once …..while on my bike…. and no, you are not allowed to laugh.
• The Job – so I think I already stated that I took the job with the laid-back solar company. If you got creative, you could figure out which one it is, suffice to say, I love it. It’s so fucking busy that I get there  and I get to 11 or 12 and realize I haven’t finished my coffee, my apple or all the phone calls I need to make. Laid back is not EVEN close to the truth there, but for all their laid back ways, they are very serious about the business. There is also a shop dog – Brutus, who is a springer spaniel. He’s my work boyfriend. Overall it’s really unorganized (which is why I got hired), laid back, bike friendly, and the easiest commute of my life. And the people, I love the people so far. I think a few of them could become good friends.
• Biking – I have biked to work, and got lost trying to come home. Yes, only me. Suck it. I can’t bike this week due to the monthly rebellion of my uterus, but I will get back in the saddle shortly.
• I’m on Googlemaps – if you google my address, go down my side street, you will see me sitting on the porch, smoking. It’s from last summer. Just to make sure, I had Streetview slide down the street a little further, and sure as shit, there was our car. I don’t know why, but it amused me.
• The Green Microgym - I joined a gym, but one with a special twist. Go to the link, and you will see what I mean. It’s about 20 blocks from the house, an easy bike ride, and I plan on taking advantage of their REALLY killer hours. The Owner, Adam, was super nice and very excited about the battery systems on the bikes. When I told him I worked for a solar company, we kind of geeked out about watts and whatnot. I’m a total dork, but I thought it was right to support a local business trying to make a difference. Besides, I got in on the introductory deal and my membership is less than 30 bucks a month for the life of the membership. How can I go wrong?

I didn’t do it.. – I didn’t watch the debate. I should have. Then I could participate in all the great conversations everyone is having today. D and I went to the Blue Moose on Fremont and had our normal Wednesday dinner. We were the only ones in the place. I think most people watched the debate. But I didn’t have to! I have Twitter! I watched everyone’s reaction while I munched on my dinner and drank my wine. Honestly, I meant to record it, but what’s done is done.

My BIL is leaving for an overseas tour a lot sooner than expected. He’s not a front-lines kind of guy, but he will be in danger. The whole fucking region is a war zone and scares me. She’s being the stoic air force wife, knowing she will have to rally without him. We joke, because D and I have a hard time being apart. when I go away for school, it’s difficult. We are joined at the forehead. But Lex and G are fine, moving through the relationship wiht all the bumps and bruises that come with deployment.

Keeping it positive - My job – I am a part of something bigger. The standards by which most people measure success would not apply with this job. The pay hasn’t pissed me off yet, but I haven’t gotten my first paycheck. I know, soon, I will get moved into more responsibility. Right now, I’m treading water, but it feels good. My coworkers are all very different from places I’ve worked before – they are cynical but hopeful, funny but dark, and always prone to blaming something on “your mother.” There are very few people in the office most of the day, but those people make me laugh. And I found out the woman they hired before me bailed after day 2. I kind of understand. The place isn’t organized. And I lost sleep the first few days. The rhythm of chaos feels strange to me. There are no protocols on how to do things, no lists, no set of parameters. While on one end, it’s freeing, I realize I like structure, which is weird to admit. I started today less filled with panic, and took a risk by taking charge. It’s working for me, and the office. At least, no one’s bitching to my face yet.

Biking to work – Today, I biked to work. And it took me ten minutes to get there. It took me almost a half hour to get home though. I was carrying a bag, riding with wind, and going up a big frackin’ hill. D told me I will get faster, and I know I will. Start small. It’s the best place to start.

Cold Toes… – It’s lovely today.

**** Okay so this is going to take a couple days to finish. But that’s the start of the housecleaning. More to follow later. I hope you had a lovely new year

My ankle hurts. Why?

Because the bowling alley tried to kill me. I’m glad there is no photographic evidence of my spectacular fall, sliding on my bent ankle down toward the pins. Have you ever noticed how slippery those floors are, especially when you CROSS THE FUCKING LINE? Yeah, totally learned that on Saturday. The laughter erupted like thunder behind me. I’m sure my face was red. D, who hates bowling, finished the game for me. Why were we bowling? Ms. Amandapants’ bday. She’s getting old now (hehehehehe). I bought her sock monkey slippers because she likes to steal my slippers when we have movie night. And I also bought her an antique camera. It doesn’t work, but she may get it fixed.

When Amanda and I first became friends, I went over to her house to study grammar for Dr. Law’s evil Grammar class. We spent hours pouring over adverbial clauses, and prepositions. I still have all of my notes from that class (and that awful book). But when you entered Amanda’s house, on the wall with the wedding pictures were beauiful older cameras, in perfect shape. So when D and I were shopping for her present, he found the camera sitting high on a shelf (meaning, out of my lower line of sight). I wish it worked, but sometimes you get what you get.

In other news, D and I went to Lola’s on Friday night with Adam from the Green Microgym (and his wife and a few of the trainers). We had dinner at McMenamins (Mmmm veggie burger) and then went upstairs to get our groove on. Two mistakes I made – wearing cute shoes that hurt my feet and underestimating the power of Ruby. Ruby is one of their beers, and I thought buying a glass or three would be okay. But they were six bucks and huge! And I think I had three. It’s the only thing that kept my brain from bubbling out of my ears. I hear beer congeals the brain…. yeah. So, my version of 80′s music and Lola’s are VERY freaking different. I expect to hear some Bauhaus, New Order, Love and Rockets, with a little dash of goth. But that’s not Lolas, where I heard hair bands, cheesy (and not in the entertaining way) new wave, and enough Madonna to make my eyes bleed. That’s not to say we didn’t have fun. We did, it just wasn’t what I expected. But I ended up with blisters on the balls of my feet. They are small, but painful.

Oh, and the parking garage for the Crystal Ballroom is hellish. I will go and take pictures of it because it’s six shades of creepy.

David and I also went to Ignite Portland 4. It rocked. My pictures sucked. And David is finally part of the twitterverse. My honey’s all grow’d up.

Now back to my shittastic monday.

When he jumps up to the couch, he cries. When he walks up the steps, he cries. He doesn’t even try to get into bed now. He sits, and waits, until D picks him up and puts him into the bed. When he pushes up, he cries. If you’ve ever been to my house, you know what madness it is when we first come home. But Pip, while is usually the instigator, hangs back with less energy. It makes me sad. I made a little nest for him in my blankets on the couch and am considering heading home during lunch to check on him. I love that damn dog. And Puck, ever time Pip makes that gawdaful screech, looks at us like we just abused him or something. This morning, when I started to get ready for work, he seemed to be doing a little better. If he’s not 85% tomorrow, then it’s off to the vet for him.

I volunteered at Wordstock this weekend. They ran a very tight ship, highly organized. I think next year I will volunteer again. It was a lot of fun, and I got a very blurry picture of Stormtroopers (I was working and couldn’t get any closer).

My sister came for a brief visit. We played Little Big Planet together, or as she calls it, Scary Monkey game. I think she had more fun dressing her sack-girl up than she did playing the game itself. I love having her in town. And we took her to Cup and Saucer.

I still feel under the weather. Everyone at work has the plague and I think I finally caught it. I’m tired, full of boogers and the urge to sneeze. I think a nap would fix it, but they don’t schedule nap time into our work day. But they should, damnit!

I stopped writing or speaking to my father when I was eighteen or nineteen. I don’t know exactly when I made the decision, or even if it was a conscious one because I was buried beneath a pretty time consuming drug addiction. It wasn’t heroine or meth, but it took up a lot of space. I joke that I can’t remember most of the 90′s. It’s funny in passing conversation, but in reality it’s kind of sad. And it was during those times, when I was so emotionally raw from my experience in becoming a birthmother and moving to another state alone, that I made the choice to cut my father out of my life.

I just realized, this entry, more than most, is going to be very personal. I guess that’s my warning.

Things come full circle, if you wait long enough. My relationship with my stepfather really ended years ago, with the accusation that my stepbrother molested me. You bring that kind of ugly to a family gathering, and nothing good will come of it. That truth, more than anything I believe, fractured what we had. We never recovered. I don’t think he likes me much. I was a total bitch to him growing up. And by the time I was ready to start having a civil conversation with him, the damage had been done. He couldn’t forgive me for being so cruel and rotten, and I would never live up to his expectations. These days, it’s civil and shallow, and we move on. My Mom and stepfather are in the process of a divorce. I know, pretty certainly, that we will have no contact at the end. He may hear about me through my sister, who still has a pretty good relationship with him, or through my brother, because my stepfather is the only Dad he’s ever known. My stepfather was there for many of the important things – my graduation day from high school, the day I found out I was pregnant with my birthdaughter, my wedding, the drive down to Miami for my move. I will be grateful for his guidance and wisdom. And when I found out about the divorce, I was very happy for my Mom, who has been my ally and close friend. But I was also sad because another possibility of a father was departing.

It’s hard being a Daddy’s girl with no Daddy.

Then came last week. My father, through my sister (this sounds like a daytime soap) professed an interest int contacting me again. She’s my little gatekeeper. She wouldn’t let him talk to me directly for fear that he would hurt me again. But things are very different now. I have my own family. I’m a birthmother, a wife, a beagle/kitty mommy, a writer, and a rockin’ coordinator for a solar company. But what I am not, at least not at this minute, is a daughter to a father. And this is where it all comes full circle.

My father wrote me a short, but nice e-mail. He professed his sincere apologies for what happened in the past but made a good point to allow the past to remain where it was and not to bring it into our future. Honestly, the e-mail didn’t really move me, which is strange. I think I’ve waited a long time for this and I expected something more – angels singing, rainbows, who knows. And I’ve not responded yet. Why? I don’t know what to say. I am actually speechless. And a touch confused. This will expose more issues than I usually like to reveal, but what if he finds out that I am a liberal vegetarian who rejects Christianity and war? And how can I hide who I am? My stepfather mocked my beliefs. My Mom told me he was trying to challenge what I believed, but he was very dismissive of my anti-war stance. Of course, he’s military, …but my father is as well. And I think they both function on the same conservative platform. But, then again, all I know of him I have learned through my sister and his actions towards her. They have maintained a strained relationship over the years. She accepts me. Will he?

I don’t know if I am afraid to write back because of the inevitable rejection, or because I’ve gone beyond the point of needing a father. I am very close with my Mom. She and I can discuss pretty much anything (except my sexuality, which still bothers her). I want the same kind of relationship with my father. That may be asking too much. He hasn’t been a part of my life since I was very young, whereas my mother fought through my shame and distance to make her presence felt, even when I lived in some very sketchy places in Miami. (BTW, I’m thinking out loud as I write this so sorry if this is a little disjointed). I think the best thing I can do is write back and expect very little. I have a very full life. My friends are amazing. My family rocks. My husband is the coolest man on the planet. Everything else is cake……. right?

Entering Wordcamp I was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. They announced that they would let more people in, and I’m glad. I almost registered too late, intending on going, but trying to convince myself not to go because I wouldn’t know a soul there. We got t-shirts, name tags (I put my site address there, but I should have just put my Twitter name — EVERYONE was adding everyone to their twitter feed), and went into largest room for the first presentation. I could go through the entire run down, but it’s already been done, and more eloquently that I could write it. Oh, and if you look at the picture, I’m in there, messing with my freaking iPhone trying to take pictures. I should have just carried my Nikon with me.

So things I learned at Wordcampdx:

• Twitter is my friend.
• Stopping traffic on Grand Ave. is a lot of fun.
• I’ve only scratched the surface with what WordPress can do.
• I need to make a stronger web presence (for both my sites).
• Portland is full of very friendly, helpful people who don’t make you feel stupid for asking questions.
• I’m obsessed with the stats tracker on my site, and Woopra is going to make it worse, but in the best way possible.
• Live blogging is fun, but I was too busy taking notes to do it.
• There are a lot of really cool, geeky women out there.
• Pita and falaffel are the food of the gods.
• Widmer makes great beer (I already knew this, but the keggers helped remind me).
• WordPress 2.7 is going to rock.

I have a lot of work to do today for my novel, so I am going to get to it, but yesterday was one of the best days ever. And while I didn’t make it to the afterparty at the GreenDragon, I will make it to the other events there.

And I think I had a dream about blogging.

Go to a photography class – Miss Amandapants gave me the best gift a friend could ever give – she and I are taking a photography class together at New Space. It’s the ‘holy shit now you have a digital camera and you don’t know how to use it dumbass” class. Mmmm.. kay – it’s not exactly that title, but you get the idea. We wanted to go for some of the more advance classes, but I honestly need to learn a lot more about my Nikon before I get all fancy. The class is a gift for my burpday. We can’t wait.

Go To Bloggy type things – I signed up to go to WordCamp PDX. I’ve been a WordPress user for years, but there’s a lot more I would like to learn. I’m really excited about the session on Copyrights and the other session that discusses integrating other system with a wordpress blog (like Twitter, my new addiction). It’s going to be fun! While it’s not till the end of the month, it’s still on my calender of things to do. I love having a calender like this.

Go to Vinideus – D and I are fond of this place. We brought Miss Amandapants with us on Friday, and I think she fell in love too. The atmosphere is quite chill. I love going into a place and being welcomed personally. The owners are congenial and warm and all of their suggestions have been spot-on. They also have wonderful desserts. It’s a great way to spend a Friday.

Go searching for the house you almost took – On Saturday, D and I drove up to Linnton to see if we could check out the house we almost took up there – It was the scary one my sister looked at. The drive up took us behind the industrial area on 30, and north of the St. John’s Bridge. When D and I finally remembered the road (he has a memory like a steel trap), we shimmied up, and almost turned down into the driveways. I decided I would have loved it up there, but it would have made the experience of moving to Portland completly different. Where we live now is in the heart of a very active neighborhood (Concordia), and full of traffic and people and energy. The place in Linnton had all the majesty nature could provide, but the human element was missing. I can’t say I’m 100% happy with the house we have now, nor could I say I would have been 100% happy with that place, but it does have the natural element that the city limits are missing.

I hope you had a lovely weekend….and now I have to call my sister back.

I’ve got a lot to say, but I’m dead-ass tired. So, here are snippetts, because that’s all I can muster.

• Wool Coats - I thought we were headed for the heart of autumn, D and I hunted for winter coats. We bought some half assed coats last fall and froze through most of the cooler weather. This time I found a great wool coat that complements my womanly figure. I love it. It’s heavy, black, military inspired, but more fashionable. I think all that time off watching “What Not to Wear” really rubbed off on me.
• I Heart my iPhone – D and I did what irresponsible people do and finally switched phone companies with that 2k check I received from Rollins. I have wanted an iPhone since they came out, and by George, we got em. And it is as spiffy and groovy as I thought it would be. The funny part, in a not so funny kind of way, is that the functionality that I ached for – being able to check e-mail, facebook, websites, without detection, is an unnecessary thing now. My current employers don’t give a shit where I go to, as long as I get the job done. But it’s good to have the capabilities with GPS. I’ve already used it once …..while on my bike…. and no, you are not allowed to laugh.
• The Job – so I think I already stated that I took the job with the laid-back solar company. If you got creative, you could figure out which one it is, suffice to say, I love it. It’s so fucking busy that I get there  and I get to 11 or 12 and realize I haven’t finished my coffee, my apple or all the phone calls I need to make. Laid back is not EVEN close to the truth there, but for all their laid back ways, they are very serious about the business. There is also a shop dog – Brutus, who is a springer spaniel. He’s my work boyfriend. Overall it’s really unorganized (which is why I got hired), laid back, bike friendly, and the easiest commute of my life. And the people, I love the people so far. I think a few of them could become good friends. I can tell you, there is a lot of laughter, a lot of lenienacy, and a lot of responsiblity, but I love it. It feels very strange to work somewhere where I don’t have to hide my tats, I can wear my big-ass earrings and no one says a thing. Did I mention the shop-dog?
• Biking - I have biked to work, and got lost trying to come home. Yes, only me. Suck it. I can’t bike this week due to the monthly rebellion of my uterus, but I will get back in the saddle shortly.
• I’m on Googlemaps – if you google my address, go down my side street, you will see me sitting on the porch, smoking. It’s from last summer. Just to make sure, I had Streetview slide down the street a little further, and sure as shit, there was our car. I don’t know why, but it amused me.
• The Green Microgym - I joined a gym, but one with a special twist. Go to the link, and you will see what I mean. It’s about 20 blocks from the house, an easy bike ride, and I plan on taking advantage of their REALLY killer hours. The Owner, Adam, was super nice and very excited about the battery systems on the bikes. When I told him I worked for a solar company, we kind of geeked out about watts and whatnot. I’m a total dork, but I thought it was right to support a local business trying to make a difference. Besides, I got in on the introductory deal and my membership is less than 30 bucks a month for the life of the membership. How can I go wrong?
• Smoking – Yes, you can be proud of me. But I still wish I had a clove, especially when I drink.

I am going to sleep now. Sweet dreams little world. Keep the good thoughts flowing.

One thing I find interesting, as more of a general comment, is that when I go back and look at the archives, I still self-edit. I didn’t get fully into how hurt and pissed I was when Natalia left me in Gainseville, nor the misery that ensued when I found out indirectly via Myspace that A got married, nor how the Dogfather’s distance turned into total silence. Those things really effected me. They still do. Those events laid the groundwork for the current issue(s), and how I will ultimately handle them. And again, I will try to figure out what I did wrong. But sometimes people don’t do anything wrong. Could I have been a better person, a better friend? Shit, yes. We all can, but I don’t think I’m to blame this time. With others, absolutly. I’ve paid my karma debt…. this one ain’t on me. But again….it’s time to move on.

And move on I have. D and I set about finalizing the bday plans for this weekend. Miss Amandapants, D and I are all going to a vineyard for the day. Lex won’t make it down to later in the day so she and Gregg are going to do the slumber party thing. Actually, this entire thing has turned into a slumber party. We all plan on getting pretty sloshed at the restraunt. Why? Because of the margartia list, and I loves me some margaritas.

Anyone got a spare air mattress? I don’t want Amanda driving home after margaritas. It’s just dangerous (and that woman is too fucking accident prone)…

The job hunt isn’t going terribly well. I’ve gotten no nibbles on my resume so far, but one can always hope. I just have to remind myself that I don’t have it the worst out there.

BTW…. I really like this song from Ladytron.

Here are some blanket observations from the last week or so:

• Batman was fucking fantastic. Brilliant. I have one beef & that’s Christian Bale’s “growly” voice when he’s the Batman. It bugs me…but the rest was fantabulous.
• When it comes down to brass tacks, family is all we have. Whether we include others within that sacred circle is a whole different issue, but I know when shit’s down, my sister and my husband will be there for me, and I’m a lot luckier than  most.
• I read KL’s blog daily, and I think I need a dictonary for military life. They have so many fucking acronyms! I want to lend a friendly shoulder and all, but I don’t understand half of what she talks about. It’s the same with my sister…. she has to translate mid-conversation. Does anyone have a handbook or a flyer I can read?
• I think Portland Roasting coffee is better than Stumptown. I may get flogged for this, but this girl’s got an opinion.
• No one lives in a vaccuum. This is where the hypocrite in me really needs to wake up and smell the bullshit, but I must remind the world that every action has a reaction, no matter how small. And that’s everyone’s responsibility.
• For school we have to post on a forum. It’s part of the required class structure. Race has been brought up as an issue in the program. People think WPF is too white (or doesn’t address other racial issues). I had to keep my mouth shut most of the time because I don’t think that’s what a school forum should be about. It’s supposed to be about writing, but I have to give the guy who brought the subject up a lot of credit. Even in this PC-loving world, there are underlying issues that a lot of people are uncomfortable discussing. That being said, there’s also the issue of beating a dead horse when people don’t want to address the issue. It’s a hard balance to maintain.
• I think websites don’t need a freaking soundtrack. I’ve spent a lot of time on the web, for jobs and such and the sites that start with audio really irritate me. I want to continue to listen to Ladytron or Dave Gahan without some elevator-music knockoff of techno blaring at me. /end rant
• My library doesn’t have the two books recommended by my mentor. I’ll have to buy them, but I really don’t have any room left on my shelves!

And here are some beagles for the rest of your day…

• My Grannie will be gone soon.
• My mother is dealing with the death of her mother, a divorce, and uncertain work future and carrying the weight of dealing with an entire family’s load of issues.
• My Budokan class has been canceled – she just didn’t get enough students interested and can’t afford to rent the space anymore.
• I was 45 minutes late to work because the alarm didn’t go off.
• I have to fly tomorrow.
• I’m fat.
• I have a shitload of work to do, and only one day to finish it all.
• I haven’t finished my novel.

A lot of that is pretty negative, but on to happy shiny stuff.

The Good:

• My Grannie won’t be in pain soon.
• My mother has the support of her entire family.
• I bought Budokan DVDs a few weeks ago, and they just arrived.
• My teacher is also a yoga instructor, so I will hook up with her for those classes since I can’t get my live Budokan fix.
• She may get me a gym discount.
• I got to snuggle up to Pip for 30 extra minute this morning. The room was chilly, and his little nose nuzzled in my arm.
• I am flying with my sister tomorrow.
• Our brother will also be joining us in Charlotte.
• While I am much heavier than I’ve ever been, I’ve stuck with Budokan for weeks (it’s a start) and I am going to set up the basement so I can continue my practice.
• My boss told me that I didn’t have to return to work next week when I get back from Charlotte. Instead he said “get your head right for school, and when you come back to work, your head will be in a good place.” We don’t get along sometimes, but he’s not the ogre I thought he was and I get a few days to collect myself, which is awesome. Most of that time will be paid.
• My novel is still in progress. One step at a time.
• My friends have been immensely supportive and kind.
• I have really nice earrings.

My poor Budokan teacher was really sad when she told us (me and one other student) about having to cancel the class. She has other opportunities to teach yoga, and she has to make ends meet, so I completely understand.  But I really enjoyed the time I spent in that studio – with its exposed, water-stained beams, the industrial light fixutures (with low-light halogen bulbs), the exposed brick, the interesting figurines everywhere. I noticed that I was able to focus last night. I found my breath and reveled in my peace and the stillness of the moment. And it could have been because it was my last class, or because I needed that space.

The sadness isn’t gone, but it’s been put in a little cup and placed on a high shelf where I will need a stepladder to reach it. I know it’s there and I know I’m going to have to deal with it, but the sun is shining today. It’s almost warm. I have one day of work to complete and then 2 weeks in which to deal with my Grannie, school, 4 plane rides, packing, and not seeing D. Right now my heart is okay, and I have to be grateful for that.

Have a great Friday, and do me a favor – share how you feel with someone you love, but who may not know it. Don’t let moments pass when you can say something helpful or nice. It’s all happy-hippy karma of me, but just deal with it – damnit!

And things keep rolling. Although Lex and I are making our preperations to head east, I still have school in 2 weeks. I still have plans to make for that, writing to do, editing to work on, and I have to figure out how to ship wine to the hotel for Calie and me.  You can’t take wine on a plane. The terrorists love wine.

I finally bought my bag for school. I  borrowed Amandapant’s suitcases for my last trip to Seton Hill, and had my vintage bags busted open during my first trip. After Amanda was kind enough to let me borrow hers, Pip decided that my toothpaste needded to be freed from the bag, and ripped a hole in the mesh pocket. So I don’t want to borrow her bags again for fear of beagle destruction. Being that I’m still sad, I’m attempting to relieve my depression and feelings of insigificance with retail therapy, kittens. I’m turning into my mother…ugh.

I’ve been a fan of Tom Bihn since about 2004 or so. My first purchase  was a laptop bag, then D and I shelled out a few clams for the Cafe Bags. I’ve had my eye on the Imago for since they developed it, but I’m really happy with my Timbuk2 bag for the day to day stuff. This bag should force me to pack lighter, which is good. For some reason I’m always compelled to bring huge bottles of shampoo and spare towels. If I was staying in the dorm, that would be understandable, but I’m in a hotel room. They have shampoo. They have towels. I should just chill.

I also went on a mini shopping spree at Threadless.com – I blame my mother again. She made me love sales, and threadless was haveing a killer sale, so I bought shirts. And I love this one. Because it’s true. Okay, it’s not true, but it still makes me laugh. And laughter, my friends, is the cure for what ails you. So is alphabet soup, at least, that’s what I hear.

Mom is flying east tomorrow to help the family make the decision. Lex and I will fly out soon. Our family needs us. And while I know when she passes it wil be a blessing for her, and while I know that I’ve been preparing for the possibility for years, it’s just hard. I hate goodbyes.

Only someone who is painfully idiotic or completly unaware would hand me a card that had “congrats to your new spawnling – it was a present from god” or some such shite on it, and actually expect me to sign it. Getting preggers isn’t that much of a miracle, at least not in my mind. It doesn’t take intelligence, and for many it’s not even a choice. For this mother it was, and so I signed the card, but the person who handed me the card irks me daily, and she, with her bible-loving heart, picked the fucking thing. No one in the office is religious, only this woman. Even the new mom is not a church goer, and I felt very uncomfortable signing a card that indicated something in which I don’t belive.

And the fucking thing was pink.

Someone please, just stab me in the eyeballs with the broad end of an umbrella.

—- Post Lunch —

Lunch: the rest of my morning coffee, funky pasta with vodka cream sauce, and some Depeche Mode. I almost like humans again.

I feel better. But food notwithstanding, that forcing religion on an office bullshit still pisses me off.

But I have happy things to talk about…like D’s job interview, C’s birthday dinner, and getting drunk watching Battlestar Galactica.

That last part…you know I’m a nerd-lady. So don’t hate. And please, don’t try to argue the fact that Starbuck is the hottest thing on television.You would be wrong.

So, back to D’s interview. While he’s happy-ish working for the big company he’s contracting with now, it’s still just a contract. No paid vacation. No benefits. Nada. And I won’t even get to the commute. D is bored out of his bald skull with the current job, and as such, has applied elsewhere. Also, it doesn’t make any sense to get to the end of a contract without prospects. But he found a company, downtown, short commute, that is offering him the same money as the company now, but full time with benefits. It would be perfect for him, and he said there wasn’t a cube-farm. Creative people don’t belong in cubes, and this place seemed to get it. They gave him the standard “well, we have a lot of people to interview…blah” but he said he felt good about it. And when he feels good, he gets the job. Besides, he was wearing his lucky bike chain bracelet, so he has to get it, right? Right. Now send happy ju-ju his way, or I will find you, cover you in peanut butter and sick my beagles on you.

I just realized, that’s probably someone’s fetish. My beagles should be spared that torture. So, never mind.

C’s birtday was great. We all went to Iorio, off Hawthorne and 9th. The place was packed, loud, and lacked the kind of decor that would really make it stand out. What did impress was the service and the food. I can forgive a big square red room for the food we had. C was kind enough to make sure there were veggie-friendly foods for D and me. One thing I love about Portland food is that they focus on local products, most of the good restraunts (and some of the less than stellar ones) make a point to focus on the best that the local farms, dairies, etc have to offer. That means the menu is different from season to season, so you can’t ever get bored. The server, and I wish I remembered her name because I just wanted to squish her, offered us the specials, and suggested wines. I fucked up and don’t remember the name of the wine I had, nor could I pronounce it, but I drank the hell out of it. It was a sparkling red. I really wish I remembered the name, damnit.

Now for the food. D had the goat cheese and butternut squash pizza. A handmade, thin crust, dusty with flour and crunchy on the tongue, held a smooth balance of cheese, dollops of the squash (which had been seasoned and purred) and caramelized onions. I Looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove caramelized onions. I don’t care if they look like earthworms, they taste divine. He loved the pizza, and looked more than a little miffed when I kept stealing peices out of his hand.

Wait.

I forgot about the gnocci.

I devoured the best gnocci I’ve ever had the honor of tasting. Fresh, puffy, rich gnocci with wild mushrooms, snap peas, and truffle oil. I’ve never tasted truffel before. But, I could have bathed myself in those gnocci. They were heaven in a tater. And everyone agreed. Even C liked the mushrooms, and she doesn’t do fungus. LOVE. THE. GNOCCI!

C had the margarita pizza, B had some dish with meat in it, and Sarah had the mushroom and pepperoni pizza. I tried an eggplant dish, but have come to realize that I don’t like eggplant. It wasn’t that they cooked it poorly, but I’ve tried to force my taste buds to like eggplant, but it just never works. Luckily I had a plate full of hand-made linguine in a lovely tomato sauce. It was good stuff.

We finished dinner, with laughter, full bellies and some coffee.  B was kind enough to be our DD, thank god, because after that much wine, I’m fun company but would be a terrrrrrible driver. We headed downtown for one of the jazz clubs we’ve been meaning to see, but forgot that there was a parade going on. Traffic was awful, we headed back to the NE side of town, to go to our standby – Mississippi Station (Mmmmmm crack fries). After night fall, it cooled quite a bit, so I to have the propane heaters turned on. We managed to have one beverage, but they were closing. I razzed the server, who returned with a BIG apology because she couldn’t give me another glass of the new zin I love (again…forgot the fucking name), but handed me a peice of paper with the name and year of a good wine she thinks I’d like.

I’m turning into a fat wino living here, and I couldn’t be happier

One more thing, if you are looking for an amazing nursery (it’s small, but perfect) in Portland, take a look at the Pistils Nursery. The NICEST people work there. They answered all my questions. They have chickens. They have air plants, and tomato starters, and all kinds of rare stuff. I will be spending a lot of money there, soon, I’m sure. But I bought C’s present there. Perhaps she’ll take a picture so I can show you —- hint—-. Good place, and within biking distance. Did I mention the chickens?

Miss Amandapants met us for breakfast on Sunday @ Cup and Saucer. But we ended up hanging out all day. She’d never seen 3:10 to Yuma, and we have it on Blu-ray, so I made dinner, and we all snuggled into the couch for some movie watching. Oh, she did go with me to the grocery store. You know you are friends when someone is willing to brave Sunday’s shoppers for a cheap meal. And we managed to get into the 12 items only lane. I kind of wondered why the register lady was being so bitchy, but when she’d FINISHED ringing up 128 bucks worth of groceries, she finally pointed out my error. Honestly, Amanadapants and I spaced. He hadn’t intentionally pulled that move, but hey, shit happens. Move on. At least Amanda only had 3 things. I think she made up for my folly.

And now I am going to refill my coffee and think happy, non-homicidal, allergic to pink thoughts. I have class tonight, and that’s exactly what I need.

I’m only partially sorry for the rant in the beginning. Can’t keep that stuff pent up — it will give me cancer or something.

Fucking duh!

But I am now interested in reading the book. Not because it Bush bashes, because Mr. McClellan was on of Bush’s chums. I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of overt criticism of the president But Rice, and Powell, and Rove – those stories still interest me, although I know they will royally piss me off.

I never finished my weekend recap.

So, on Sunday, after we BBQ’d out at the park, Lex and I had to figure out something to cook for the brood. After much discussion (see: confused arguing and “no – you decide” type conversation) we opted for the grill again. This time, I would grill out veggie skewers, baked taters (hurricane food), asparagus and veggie Italian sausage. G would cook the meatworst (brats) and the corn. It ended up being that I cooked everything except the meat. But it came out holyshit good. The grilled asparagus was almost perfect. A little olive oil, salt and pepper plus fire and you have

*ta da!*

Really damn good food. And I bought 2 bunches of it, thinking that I would lose about half to being overripe or slightly foul, but they were perfect. I even got the non veggieheads trying out the stuff. And again, my nephew J loved it all. And I want a big-ass grill with lots of fire, because that made the food damn tasty. Some of Lex’s neighbors came over, and we all ended up talking until late in the evening…okay it was 2:30 or so when I went to bed.

And we left first thing in the morning. But Lex called yesterday and told me I left my spices there. I bring them with me when I go to her house, because well….she doesn’t have some of the same stuff I do.  But I left them there, and that means, eating out tonight.

Now, back to work, but…. little linkies…kind of like sausages, but not.

• Find out what’s in season, and cook it. Being up here in the NW, it’s harder to get foods year round and I can tell you right now, the garlic I’m getting today vs. the garlic I bought 2 months ago is FAR superior, so it’s nice to know what’s out there so I can plan accordingly.
• Gay birds…good parents. I find these kinds of articles interesting, because I think they go towards proving that being gay, straight, transgendered, etc. is not a choice. It’s something we are born with. And as such, I won’t deny that I still fancy girls….from afar.
• And I am going to start taking Budokon classes. I bought the DVD a few years ago, and tried to keep with it, but once I get my ass home, it’s just too easy to sit down. Twice a week, it should help get me into shape and move my brain from constantly thinking about smoking, and more into thinking about peaceful things….like…..not smoking. Momma needs help, and this is good for me because it’s part martial arts and part yoga.
• Half and half equals… a vote that most don’t know how to court. Being half white and half hispanic, one could argue that I don’t have enough of a ethnic mix to give a shit about the other ethnicities, but I do, and when people pay attention to that which isn’t WASPish, then I perk up as well.
• How to carve up the N Pole - and it just makes me sad.
• But this, of course, makes me very happy.

Have a chipper Wednesday.

And now to the weekend recap.

Thursday – We saw Indy @ the coolest theater ever – Cincetopia. Good food, and I’m not talking Enzian “frozen pizza disguised as gourmet” food – it was damn good food. I had a spinach artichoke dip, and D had mac n cheese with Gorgonzola. We also, because I’m a total lush, bought a bottle of wine. We met this cool biker named Eric, who just decided to go and see a movie since he was on his motorcycle and it was raining. So he came in, all covered in leather, and we chatted about animals who travel, food, where to go in Oregon, and the fact that it was his 44th birthday. The dude was seriously cool, very friendly, he giggled and he had these really cute freckles on his nose. He was born in Oregon, and loved Portland, but couldn’t afford to live there, so he lived in the Coove. He told us he sculpted grotesque garden gnomes. He was just a lot of fun. The movie itself was a good time as well. It’s a summer popcorn flick, and I loved that it didn’t take itself too seriously. Not my favorite, by far, but I still had a damn fine time.

Friday – Worked, and then D and I went to Mississippi Station for dinner and some wine. Amandapants called us on her way to the Gorge for the Sasquatch Festival. I felt bad, because she had 4 hours to drive (I think she called me around 6) and would be erecting her tent in cold rain. D and I ate dinner, and chilled outside for a while. The weather wasn’t cooperating this time though, so we went back to the house, and continued to beverage. Now I made the mistake of going to Fred Meyer and getting these bags – if you buy 6 bottles of wine you get 10% off…..so…. I did. That meant we had too much wine onhand for the night. That meant we drank too much. But D and I talked, like we haven’t in ages, about anything and everything. And the wine flowed, and I fell asleep and the world was spinning.

Saturday - Good morning Hangover! D was kind enough to take the beasties to the groomers so I could sleep a little. Then we walked to our breakfast place, where they were kind enough to fill me full of stuff so I could stop feeling bad. The sun was trying to shine through long breaks in the clouds, but it was far from the shitty weather we’d had earlier in the week. Then D and I walked to New Seasons, grabbed groceries for our trip and headed home. The Dogs still weren’t finished so we also went to Moosey, had lunch, and as soon as I got home, I needed a nap. I passed out. D got the call that the dogs were finished, and again, went alone to take care of them. I’m a shitty beaglemommy. But they got me back, pouncing me on the bed, bouncing me into wakefulness, and ushering us out of the house, ready to head to Lex’s house.

That part of the trip, I have to say, was blissful. The traffic between Portland and Tacoma can get quite awful (for you Florida folk – think I-4, but down to 2 lanes, for a lot of fucking miles). But everyone left on Friday, so I put on the cruise control and just chilled. Till I saw the first State Trooper. Okay, sloooooow down. So then I was only going 10 miles over the speed limit. Then I saw my second State Trooper and D gave me that look “you get no stuff (see: video games, bags, music, books, etc) if you get a ticket.” I slowed the car down to 5 miles over and we watched the pretty lights of the police sparkled and whirl from the side of the road throughout the 2 hours it took to get to Lex’s house. But there was no traffic. I was happy.

We got to her house, and I started a pasta dinner – home made sauce, veggie pasta (you know, the carrot, spnich, beet, and that white-stuff pasta), and fresh garlic bread. My sister recently got involved in Pampered Chef. For me, it could be dangerous, but I was safe becase D stood in the kitchen as she did her little song and dance, and the only thing he didn’t scowl about was the knife. It’s a good knife. Me wants sharp thingies. Anyway, so I finished Dinner. My one nephew – J – will eat anything, and thinks I’m gods fucking gift when it comes to cooking. And that is why I love him best out of that whole family (It’s okay Lex…. I know the smack is coming). My BIL also liked the food, but I think he just gets excited because it didn’t come pre-made out of a can. But the one I was most impressed with was my sister, who doesn’t like to try new things. She didn’t dislike the sauce, it just wasn’t…

*hurk*

Ragu

*puke*

We finished dinner, drank, and then went to bed.

Sunday – The BBQ started at 11. Yes, that is very early for Meow and her ever sleepy huzzie, but the neighbor who loves us was cooking our mushrooms special, so we had to get up and get out to the park by 11.

We got there around 11:30…it was close.

One thing I’ve noticed, and I’ve commented on this to my friends IRL, is that my sister puts up with a lot of shit from people on base. There are cliques that are impossible to ignore, and as such, it takes me a while to get comfy. When everyone was eating, I felt out of place. D and I took the dogs to the field and let them run, and when we came back, the women were sitting with their kids and the menfolk were scraching their nuts and congraduating each other on their manliness. Then someone pulled out a baseball, and all the boys went to play. That left us, the womenfolk, D and the dogs, to bullshit. D and I took to the field again, trying to keep Puck from eating deer shit (and rolling in it —that bastard ALWAYS gets funky after the groomer….he goes for starcrunches, opossom poop…what ever. I think he resents getting bathed and wearing those cute little bandandas), and running around exhausting the dogs. Lex’s doggy – Smeagol – okay his name is Casey, but he looks like Gollum. I’m just sayin’…

D and the rest of the group ended up playing kickball. I didn’t. Why? I was bleeding like a dying animal, and someone had to keep the dogs from going apeshit. Everyone, and I mean everyone, got burned. Okay, except for one of the neighbors, but all the white people, like my husband – —— looooobster time.

And I really do have more to write….the best dinner, my attempt at asparagus, the drive home, my exhaustion, but work calls. Let’s see if I get unlazy enough to ride when I get home. Or I could take a nap.