Moody Meow

We didn’t have our normal Biggest Loser workout. The show was delayed because of the stupid Blazers game. I hate professional sports. I always have, and for reasons like that - they ruin my shows. That and, wouldn’t it be more entertaining to go out and PLAY the fucking sport yourself? Instead you sit and cheer for a bunch of overpaid crybabies with massive egos. Anyway, this is not a rant about the fallacies of others, even basketball players.

Adam and Danielle and I worked our for 2 hours while watching Dancing with the Stars. It was mildly amusing, but not the inspiration I wanted. I drink a lot of water in the two hours. In my multiple trips to the bathroom, I finally stopped ignoring the scale, which sat right next to the door. I haven’t had the courage to step on a scale since we moved. I figured I’d gained some weight. I didn’t figure on 20 lbs. I weigh a whopping 170 lbs now. It’s disgusting. I look at myself and nothing looks right or correct or attractive. I’m a mockery of who I used to be. But I know how it happens. I eat well for most of the week, but drink my way through the weekend, keep chips (they were mutligrain but I convinced myself they were okay), cheese, the easy dinners full of crap off our plates, and stop sitting on my ass without doing anything. Every time we go out - do I really need to drink? Do I need the dessert? It’s fucking ridiculous. As you may be able to tell, I’m really pissed at myself. I quit smoking (save for the occassional slip up). I stoped using drugs. I can do this.

I need to forgive myself for fucking up so royally and move on. D has gotten me up at 6 each morning this week. Yesterday morning I spent time with the dogs, watched the news, did everything BUT working out. This morning, I rolled into a ball and cried. This is where being manic depressive is handy because I can kind of justify this behavior on being crazy - or I could just be an adult and admit that I feel awful for becoming this thing - this weak, self-pitying, self-serving indulgent shit. My Grandmother was morbidly obese most of her adult life. While some of her weight gain was genetic, she also loved rich foods and cocktails. I can’t remember her ever wearing something that wasn’t mumu-ish.  I should learn my lesson.

And that is the end of my old ways.

See, I’ve changed a lot. I won’t tolerate bullshit from people. I tell the truth, even if it makes me look like an ass. I forgive people, rather than holding grudges (for the most part, there are some people out there who deserve a serious thwapping, but I am a work in progress and trying to get beyond those feelings). I don’t eat animals. I don’t wear animals (is that leather in my shoe?). But what I need to do now is to get out of my own way and bulldoze to success as I always do. When I change my mind, it’s changed for good. And most of the time, whatever or whoever I cut out of my life is gone forever.

I took steps last night. I am going to use my iPhone to track my caloric intake (instead of doing Body for Life, which just seems too much for me), and my workouts. I am going to work out 6 days a week, no excuses. I belong to a groovy little gym, full of supportive and positive people. I have a brilliant little runsong for varaiation. I have dogs to walk in a park less than 4 blocks from my house. I have an elliptical trainer next to my desk.

I’ve said much of this before. But I didn’t weigh 170lbs then…….ugh.

So by the time I go back to school in two months, I want to have lost at least 10 lbs…maybe more. I won’t starve myself (I love food too much) and I won’t punish myself. The number shocked me, and I won’t allow a number to scare the shit out of me like that ever again.

Erica’s gonna move.

(so that entire entry is scattered in terms of tone and focus, but it is what it is. Welcome to my brain).

And I also found out that one of my classmates from Seton Hill passed away from melanoma. Please, people, get your funny looking spots checked out!

For a lighter rest of your day - links.

• After moving to Portland, I’ve come to love the hoody. They are far more interesting here, in shapes and fabrics that are more fashionable.  Perhaps that is because the climate is perfect for them. That being said, I want this one — yes it’s expensive. But a girl can lust, now can’t she?
• It’s horribly endangered, and I wouldn’t want one as a pet, but OMG!!! It’s so CUTE!!
• I hated losing my virginity the first time. Who in their right mind would put the freaking hymen BACK? (no knife is going near my stuff, I don’t care how it looks). What in the hell does a perfect pubis look like? And what does it say about us a society that this is even a viable surgery? Would you do this?
• One of the benefits of living in Portland - I am on  Shizzow. Okay, so I jumped on the bandwagon yesterday and I haven’t had a chance to use it much yet. A few days and I will publish a review. So far, so good though. (the link is to a Wired article, since it’s still limited to Portland and San Fran). There are lots of little tech startups here, and a very supportive community that celebrates each success. It’s a good place for geeks.

I have a shitton of writing to do and the deadline is today. I, Erica the MoodyMeow, am the queen of “the absolute last minute.” I think I should get a crown or something. While the dogs finish eating, a few quickies and I will leave you…

• Being a part-time vegetarian? I think being more conscious of your eating habits, and knowing where you get your nutrients from is a good thing. That’s not to say that all vegetarians give a cow’s ass where their cheese came from, or whether or not their lettuce is organic. I do pay attention, close attention these days. I’m an ethical vegetarian. If it had a face, I’m not going to eat it. That’s why eggs (chicken abortions, as the sick joke goes) are okay. I don’t drink milk because it makes me fart. I do eat cheese because it’s tasty (but I try to be a good girl about where it comes from). Now the idea of part-time vegetarianism interested me, but I think slapping a complicated name like Flexitarianism is kind of a bullshit way of saying “I eat less meat and don’t care if there’s anchovy past in the caesar dressing.” Do you really need a unique name for someone who is more conscious of what they put in their bodies? I don’t think you do … personally, I think that should just be human nature. But I also realize that I am at an income bracket where being selective about what I eat is easy. When I was broke (brizzzzzoke), it was harder. But I think all people, even those with less money, should seek out quality ingredients, and bring more green to the table. No everyone has to be a vegetarian, but if you are more conscious of what you eat, I’ll call you anything you want - including a flexitarian (which by the way, sounds like some kind of contortionist from Cirque).
• Bill Mahr vs …well even the View - I’m a big fan of his. I think he’s got some “interesting” things to say, but on the whole, I shout praise at the TV every time I watch him. His opinion on religion is not one that I share, if you were wondering. No, I did not drink the Jesus juice, but I do believe there is something other than us out there, and I’ve never been so egotistical as to assign it a name, but I do believe in an “other” or an “us”… it depends on my mood. Bill Mahr takes issue with the literal translation of the bible. That Jeezycreezy jumped up out of the grave after 3 days is biologically impossible. And if God’s telling you to do something, you may want to see a shrink. I agree with him because I think most of the major worlds religions are twisted into rhetoric instead of healing. Extremist Christians live in this great country, and if you are in the right part of the country (unintended pun there), you couldn’t turn a corner without seeing 13295743 churches on one street. I don’t care that Sherri Shepherd believes in zombie Jesus day. Good for her. But I do care that this country has changed with the upsurge of the Christian right.
• A great interview with the Remember the Milk’s cofounder - I’m really starting to embrace all the little apps that help make my life easier. It’s much easier now that I have an iPhone, but I used RTM with my little Pebbl. It was clunky but efficient. RTM is still one of the best apps out there for task management.
• I offically hate Miley - Sweetheart, when you were still boogying to your daddy’s craptastic music, I was at Disney with the gays. Gay Days is THE BEST day to go to Disney, even if you aren’t “one of the family.” I went with a gaggle of gay boys I knew from my bar, and we rode Space Mountain (you have never heard screaming until you have a train full of gay boys in the dark….and I didn’t mean that as literally as it sounded). We got wet, tired, dirty, sunburned, and I met some of the most amazing people ever. And the party didn’t stop there. That’s a post for another time. But the point is that Gay Days has become an institution. Disney defended it in a kind of roundabout manner some years ago when the Christian Right swore to boycott. And now, it’s just something that happens every year. I think it should have been respected. But, Miley is their bitch, their progeny, their moneymaker - and if Cinderella wants the gays to go, then she gets her wish. —— I hope her party sucks.
• Divorce Cakes - Just one question - why are most of them bloody?
• I love Heroes, and I really, really, really love the music.Good music is iconic. Hum a few bars of the Indiana Jones theme and watch people perk up (and it’s been stuck in my head for months since I’ve been playing the Lego version), or the ominous sounds of Vader’s theme. Music can be forceful, and perk up plots that would otherwise feel shallow. The music in Heroes doesn’t overwhelm, it typifies. It doesn’t prop up plot, rather it adds dimension. I can’t wait to get the score!
• From Since You Asked on Salon - Sarah Palin is Ruining My Life - I won’t go as far as to say she’s ruined my life, but I’ve had to pull away from the election for a bit. It’s been abusive, nasty, and hypocritical. Eternally an idealist, I think the harsh realities of modern politics turns my stomach. I’m too gentle a creature (stop laughing, or I will thwap you) to deal with the madness. Can’t we all just get along? But I’m realizing we can’t. I work with people who think the same way I do. I live and talk with people who echo my feelings. We all really despise the Republican ticket. But there are the others, friends and family, who don’t agree. Is the divisive nature of the modern political world eating them up to? Is there a way around the bullshit name calling and lies?

Beagles are done eating. It’s time for homework.

This is bullet-form day. I rarely have time to blog anymore with my schedule. Work is nuts, all the time, which is a good thing. I’m never bored, but there are rarely lulls that would allow me to blog. And by the time I get home, I just want to unwind.

• The Best Compliment - I finished Calie’s critique way late. I’ve been way late for most of this term, either to to emotional issues (it’s hard to write about hope when you don’t have any), technical issues, or life issues. The thing I’ve realized is that no matter how shitty my life gets, I can’t drag her into my mess. She deserves a good crit partner, and since we decided to go as a 2 person team, I’m all she’s got school wise (beyond her fucking amazing mentor). I sat down, over the course of several days, and critted the hell out of her story. I love the premise, and the world. I think she and I have similar problems in getting into a deeper POV, but she’s got an amazingly twisted mind and a fluid writing style. I read the submission all the way through several times so that I could digest things properly. When all was said and done and I turned it in to her, I waited for the e-mail saying “Moody, you bitch! Can’t you do this well?” but what I got was “You are the best crit partner ever.” She understand that my inclination to pick out things and ask questions is not beating up the story, it’s about dissecting it to make it a better story. It feels really good when someone understands and appreciates your intentions
• Going to #Wordcampdx tomorrow - I’m painfully nervous. I won’t know anyone, but I am braving the wilds anyway. What is it? Look and see. I hope to meet some interesting people, learn more about the abilities of Wordpress, and figure out how to make my writing site more interesting. I’ve been on MoodayMeow since 2003 in some ideration or another, but if I plan on becoming a professional writer when I grow up (which will be when I turn 50, I’ve decided… I have a few years) then I need to establish a professional, interesting web presence. And I love social media, so joining my blog and twitter or the other technology crack I’m addicted to — it’s good stuff. Oh! And there’s a copyright section! I had plans to put parts of my book up, but worried about copyright. Hopefully this will answer some questions. It’s an all-day event, and it won’t leave me much time for editing my own writing, but the deadline’s not till Tuesday. I should be okay.
• I had more to write, but I’m crazy busy. Maybe tomorrow?

Let me reiterate for the record: I’m very liberal, voting for Obama. I think Bill Richardson would make an excellent VP. I am very anti-war. That doesn’t mean I hate the troops, and if you want to come back at me with that argument, stick it up your ass. Being a military brat, and the SIL to an Airman, I do support them. But there’s a fine line between doing good overseas and making things a bajillion times worse, and that is what our President has done. The real war, the first one, should have been in Afgahnistan. I think the Dem congress has been sitting on their ass, licking their chops, waiting— for something. What that something is, I just don’t know, but it’s disgusting. I hate Fox news (and most national news agencies, but they have a special place in my colon - because they are full of shit), believe in gay rights and don’t understand racism.

Mmmm k. Got all that?

First in the arena - McCain is paying bloggers to post his talking points. This is just shady, kids. I’m a naive idealist, so I will continue to believe that bloggers are mostly outside the corproate/polically run arena. Yeah, USA today has bloggers, and Anderson Cooper blogs, but those connections we know about. Having a candidate >pay< someone to fluff him up and not reveal the nature of the connection is just duplicitous and wrong. And here is where I get all idealist again — I don’t think Obama has to do this. He’s got a grassroots thing going on the net (via Myspace, Friendster, etc) that has payed off in millions of dollars, tons of new democrat voters, and volunteers. He’s got a fire behind his campaign. McCain just looked like the old guard trying to do the new guard tricks. I thought this was supposed to be the respectable campaign. I was wrong.

Now, on to my loathing for Fox news. It has been revealed that they were given “literal talking points to discuss on their prime time news segments.” Does this not smack of propaganda? Granted, this was reported on MSNBC, who has their own bias (I’m naive, not stupid), but I don’t think anyone except Bush and his cronies would ever get this blatant. And I find it reprehensible that a “news” company would take the bait and report the talking points as news. I really do loathe Fox news. My mom told me that to understand an argument, you had to see it from all sides, especially when it came to politics. Fine. I subjected myself to Fox and Friends on several mornings, watched a few snippets with their talking heads in the evenings… but it was so hateful. MSNBC has taken to “reporting” with the same attitude. I don’t want snarky commentors to tell me what to think. Just the facts…. please.

Now this wackjob takes the cake. And he’s from Florida, figures. I am beyond amazed that this kind of racism still exists.

And on a completely non-political note. Go over to Claire’s blog! She’s having a Pay It Forward contest. You should enter!

Oh…and it’s NOT 90 DEGREES TODAY!!! I’M SO HAPPY!!!!

I’m numb.

I will probably be out of touch for a few days so….. yeah.

• Flight leaves at 10. I will meet my schoolmates around 11 tomorrow morning. I just realized how much I’ve missed them.
• Thank you Amanda for the clarity.
• Thank you Cat, for a lovely evening, good conversation and being willing to go adventuring to new restaurants with me and D.
• We found Trebol, I heart that place. The margarita/tequila list rivals most good wine lists. The food was amazing, the service friendly, and we mowed on things I’d never heard of before. Two tasty thumbs up.
• My trip to SC will be written about. But I’ve only had a few days to play ketchup (intentional) with D and our friends. It feels like I was home for just a breath before hopping yet another plane to the East.
• I got my birthday present early. Yes, I’m spoiled.
• Had to take Valentine to the vet today. They do think there’s something irritating his pissing process, but he doesn’t have a blockage. D gets to dispense the medication. I warned him to wrap the cat in a towel. Val does not like people touching his ass or squirting things down his throat. 1 week of meds and then we reevaluate.
• I’m finally getting over what ever it is that my mother gave me. She give me life, and then inflicts me with a wicked cold. If Grannie hadn’t just died, I would think she was trying to kill me.
• I’m not flying Jet Blue, or will I be anywhere near JFK. There’s always something to be grateful for.
• It’s a good thing that my boss gave me those extra 2 days off. I slept till 10 on Friday. It felt lovely.
• I also slept till 1 on Saturday.
• And now I have to finish downloading movies onto my PSP, pack my electronics bag  (with all the freaking chargers…someone should make a universal charger. They would be a bazillionaire), and double check for this and that. D and I head to dinner before the airport.

See ya later.

I’m still here. Freezing, tired, unloved by my airline (we won’t get off the ground until 9:30am), and in dire need of a good shower and some understanding. And btw, don’t try to skeep on the floor - it just doesn’t work. I should have known we were in trouble when the gatekeepers in Charlotte were completly disinterested in helping Lex and I sit togehter.  The sky fell @ JFK (remember, level of hell and all. I think it’s the steaming taint of hell, personally) and that stalled all air trafficing both incoming and outgoing. They cancelled a number of flights leaving around the time we were due. Our connection flight to Seattle sat on the runway for over an hour, but the stall couldn’t help Lex and me. We didn’t get out of the Customer Service line until nearly midnight.

Yes, I wanted to have a tantrum.

I am emotionally incapable of writing something serious about Grannie’s passing, or the time we spent with the cousins and the uncles. I have a lot to say, but I’m keeping it together just enough to get myself home…. if I’m lucky, sometime around 8ish….

In my sad attempts to try and eat healthier, I went to Subway for lunch the other day. Chill. I wasn’t anywhere near Portland, otherwise I would have stopped in on one of my favorite restaurants. Every Wednesday I drive to Battle Ground for a meeting, during the lunch hour, and they don’t have much up there for vegetarians. Hence, Subway. The Veggie Sandwich thingy isn’t half bad, considering my pallet has grown up a little and now allows for a lot more vegetables.

What it still doesn’t allow for is any part of anything that used to have eyes.

Mmm k. With sandwich in hand, and a bag of Lay’s Baked Mesquite BBQ chips (and a glass of water because their iced tea was awful), I sat down to inhale my glorified cheese sandwich. I like to read when I eat, so for the first time ever, I read the ingredients on the Baked Lays bag. Down at the bottom, in wee little letters: chicken fat.

Read the rest of this entry »

Let this be a warning…I’m on my “I can’t fucking stand self-important Christians who tread on hypocritical moral high ground” soapbox… Why? Because it’s pre-coffee time, I forgot my breakfast and I pissed at the world that I had to get out of bed this morning.

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.

Read the rest of this entry »

I didn’t ride to work.

I had nightmares all last night, and D said I woke him up screaming “I hate you!” in the middle of the night. My weeks is not starting off as smoothly as I’d hoped.

The glasses thing really bugs the shit out of me. I can’t see. I’m going to get a headache.

I didn’t ride because I didn’t sleep, and I got all freaked out about not knowing the route. What happened to being fierce? I’m a badass bitch…who seems to have some overpowering fear of getting lost. Le sigh. I need to find my fearlessness. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m afraid of. But today I’m going to track the ride home in the car so I can figure out where the bike trail ends. They are laying a new Max line, and the construciton ate the part of the bike trail that ran RIGHT behind my job. Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.

And I just got a papercut. Freaking great.

Now, I’m bleeding all over my paperwork and I don’t have any pirate band-aids handy.

Fuck this…I’m gonna drink my coffee and try to breathe. This funk will not last. It’s only fucking MONDAY!

/end tantrum

• Multiple days of being sick…again, have put me behind my deadline for school. I’m still under the weather, at work, and I think my fever just came back. I’ve been sick more since I got to Oregon than the whole time I was in Florida. I think Oregon is trying to kill me. Or tell me something. Maybe I’m not welcome here anymore. What ev.
• Amandapants is in Florida. I hope the palmetto bugs don’t eat her.
• D rode to work although he’s got the same thing I have. He’s a superhero.
• Everything tastes like shit when I’m ill. Pizza=ewww. Egg rolls = ewwww. The only thing I could/can taste is cheese. Even coffee ain’t doing it for me right now.
• My ears have been ringing for days.
• Yes, this whole post is going to be about me bitching because I’m sick.
• Okay. Done now. I’m going to go and chug some dayquil.

I slept like the dead last night. Using the treadmill will do that for you, if you pull yourself out of your own way to get something done. One thing I haven’t done: laundry. It’s still in a pile, collecting animal hair, and serving as the comfiest bed to both beagle and feline. Wish I had time to fold it. Okay… I do. But I wanted to sleep and watch a movie with D.  Perhaps I’ll get to it today.

So, D had an interview with Xerox (please ignore this if you read it before), and he should hear on Flyday whether or not he got the job. Cross everything you’ve got. Really. Yes, I even meant your eyes. Okay, well you can cross your eyes later. You need it to read this. Read on, cross your eyes later. But at least cross your fingers.

I read this on MSNBC regarding Heath Ledger’s funeral:

Fox News’ John Gibson on Jan. 22 opened his radio show with funeral music and mocked a signature line from “Brokeback,” saying, “Well, he found out how to quit you.”

Can I say…that’s just disgusting. And I’m tired of hearing the word “fag.” I hear it @ work. I hear it on the Xbox. Tired of it. Homophobia pisses me off. Let’s be honest guys (because guys seem to have more of a problem with the whole “gay” thing)… he’s probably not that into you.  Besides, Heath Ledger was a great actor, regardless of the roles he played. I’m sure some of your favorite actors(resses) have played tyrannical bastards, but no one blinks an eye when that happens. Mention boy on boy booty, and then the world freaks out. It’s enough to make me tear my hair out.

On a happier note, I smell like Burt’s Bees. It’s good stuff.

The weather here has been amazing. It’s damn cold, don’t get me wrong, which is why my blankets on the couch are so groovy. I run from the car, into the house, fend off the dogs and cats, drop my bags, and bounce under the blankets. It’s just for a few moments, because when I get home, the beagles want their food. The cold itself isn’t the problem right now, it’s the wind. It finds your marrow and freezes it solid. For hours, I struggle to get warm. I’m even wearing socks on a regular basis. But the views when I drive to work are just magnificent. St. Helens and Mt. Hood glow, the city’s taller towers peek from tall trees. Reflective windows shine warm light all over the city. Everyone seems to smile, although it’s hard to see their faces when they are half-strangled by scarves. Have I mentioned that I love scarves? I love them. There, now you know my secret.

My hands are cracking and my lip bleeds a lot because of the cold. Hence, why I smell like Burt’s Bees right now. I’d have them bleeding and cold everyday to live here. Luckily, it’s going to start getting warmer in a month or two.

I need more coffee.

Toodles

To the jackass that stole the pumpkins off my front porch: I hope they fell on your foot and fractured every bone in your toes. That’s what you deserve.

Have a nice day.

• Still in the midst of deadline, this is a quick post while I cook.
• Our fireplace is toast. We can’t burn anything. The firebox itself is solid, but the chimney is falling apart. One strong wind, and we will lose bricks. That means I am very bitter.
• The heater died as well. After NW Natural Gas came out to look at the heater, we were forwarded to a contractor. The contractor told us it died because of a safety switch. Basically it committed suicide so we can be safe. The landlord is having it replaced on Friday. *grumble grumble*
• Finally, on the house front — the landlord came over today to negotiate with the heater contractor, and she let it slip that they never did an inspection on the house when she bought it. What does that mean? This place is a lemon. We ain’t sticking around.
• We picked up my Ratchet and Clank game. It makes me drool.
• I bought an egg timer so I can schedule things more efficiently. I know it’s silly, but when the bell rings, I have to switch up what I’m doing. It’s a good system for me.
• Academic reading is really fucking boring. For my undergrad, I skimmed a lot of books, but for this program, I had to read an entire book on the advent of the Book of the Month club and its effect on the publishing industry. Interesting, sorta. Most of it made my eyes bleed.
• It’s raining.
• I can’t wait for the weekend. It’s my first Halloween party in Portland
• The thanksgiving holiday is getting nutso. All my fam (Mom, sister and fam, brother), C&B plus Sarah and C’s brother, Amandapants….. it’s gonna be soooo much fucking fun!
• Leopard comes out on the 26th!! Wh00t!
• I really think this is cool.
• I started my other blog. It’s more stuffy, but have fun (it’s also still in the works. Got some kinks there)
• It’s time for dinner.

I really can’t stand Anne Coulter. She’s a hateful skeeze, and the only reason she gets play on television is because she pisses everyone off. That’s entertainment! Why do people buy her books? Why would someone support a woman so full of hatred and disdain (in full disclosure - I haven’t read any of her books, and don’t plan to)?  She is beloved by the right. She really is. She makes a living with her name calling and rude assumptions. And now, I am writing about her, because she pisses me off. And people listen to her. By the way, she doesn’t think a woman’s right to vote is a good thing.

this is poorly written, but then again, what would you expect from a Liberal?

Wow, they do things stupider in Texas, don’t they? If the person taking the rental application saw the tattoos to begin with, then why let them conintue with the process? And they took their money for the fee! Man, this makes me want to buy a house.

I understand the argument between private property rights (as in the right of the landowner) and the rights of the individual. As someone who is tatted up quiet nicely, I understand that I have to cover things in order to make a go at life sometimes. But I’ve never heard of anything this restrictive when it comes to a living situation. While it’s not right, it is legal. The guy is still a douche for setting that  policy up. I would think that someone with a clean credit history and good references would be a find for a landlord.

This makes me glad to live in Portland.

It’s been cool here and some of the trees have started to take on the colors of fall. I love Portland.

It’s supposed to get “hot” here tomorrow. All of 85…. god, I don’t miss Florida weather.
*edit..they updated the weather. It’s going to be 90. I think Frankie cursed us. I’ll get him back*
I’m working on my garden today, my critiques, and laundry. It feels good to get all of this stuff done. There’s much more to do, like looking for a job, but that’s on the back burner for the next couple of days. The critiques are my main focus. Well, that’s kind of a lie. My garden is what I want to do first. So, should I be responsible, or play in the dirt? Hehehe… we all know what I’ll choose.

So, Michael Vick found Jesus.  Nice to hear that. I am so sick of celebrities and athletes caught in shite behaviors finding Jeezus or attributing their issues to mental illness/addiction. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on buddy. I hope your career is ruined. Cruelty is pervasive in professional sports. Wife-abusers, animal abusers — it feels like the only people who succeed in the sports world are those with compromised morals. Infidelity seems like a hobby to those pricks (although I admit it is pervasive throughout society. Being that they are in the spotlight, it gets more press). That’s a horrific thing to do to a family. And then there is the bee in my bonnet — the animal abuse. I think Vick should be put into his own pit-bull ring, and see what happens to him. I don’t belive in capital punishment, and I know this is just anger speaking, but sometimes an eye for an eye sounds like a brilliant idea.

(that was an incoherent rant… sorry for the grammar)

*later today*

So, I planted my flowers and my jasmine, finally. And for my troubles I have two ripped open blisters, one of my ring finger where my wedding ring is. They frackin hurt. The prior landowners put down a substandard mulch which is riddled with teensy splinters. So on top of my blisters I have splinters on my ankles where my socks stopped. I’m used to Florida dirt. It’s loose and easy to turn. But this stuff is almost a foot deep hardpan, and it is impossible to break through without a shovel. My whining is done now. I’ve got the very beginnings of a loverly garden. Let’s see how the rest of it works out.

It’s windy again, and cooling down rapidly. I enjoy wearing a hoody when it gets cold at night. I think I am in heaven.

We got a nice little post-it note last night from someone who lives near us. It said simply “Your dogs bark all the time! Perhaps you should close your windows or something.” Really? All the time? Truly?

I have one thing to say: Fuck you.

I know this is probably from our next door neighbors. They are aloof and snooty. I’ve tried to say hello several times, but she just preens in her front yard while fucking with her roses and petting her cat. I wrote her distance off because I was wearing my septum ring. It’s a little scary, I guess. But she and her husband just LOVE to scream orders at each other in the morning on the weekends and slam doors. Their driveway is right next to our bedroom. I am tempted to be petty and start blaring D&B, but I’m not completly sure it is them. But they look like post-it-note kind of people. Fuckers.

For the record our dogs DO bark. They are fucking dogs. We are also on a really busy street with a bus-stop right in front of our porch. I’m so fucking sorry they are good at alerting the world to the presence of strangers. They don’t bark much when we are home. Sometimes they bark when they are are in the yard, but we have people on 2 sides. Frankly, that’s to be expected. So I am going to keep the windows (most of them anyway) closed when we leave. We don’t have very many that open, so this pisses me off. It gets warm in here. It is, after all, summer. Granted, we aren’t in Florida with 95+ temps wiht 95% humidity, but what ever. Damn, people just piss me off.

I haven’t written a lot lately, I know. I’m a berry bad blogger. So, you get a list, because I’m supposed to be editing my workshop partners’ stuff, but I needed a break.

• People drive 5 miles below the speed limit here. It drives me nuts.
• It took us 2 hours to get to Lex’s house..and 4 hours to get home.
• Alexis loves our dogs.
• C & B are moving this week! Yay for them!
• D finally fixed our dryer issue. It’s good to have dry clean clothes.
• All of the Ikea furniture is put up. Now I have to vacuum.
• I got lots of lovely stuff for my birthday.
• D bought me an antique desk. I love it.
• My birdfeeders are still full. I miss birds.
• I had a dream about Rollins last night. It made me kind of sad.
• 300 is as good as I remember.
• I still haven’t read Harry Potter. I’m waiting until after this deadline.
• Malbecs are my favorite wine right now.
• I heart beer.
• The bridges in Portland are amazing, and fun to drive on. I wish I could take pictures of the view, but I’m usually doing 60.
• We are going to Crater Lake this weekend!!!!!!! The beagles are coming too, because C & B aren’t assholes (see: bitter diatribe earlier)
• C & B are so much fun to hang out with. We get sillier every time we get together.
• B makes me snort.
• C and I are going to take a welding class later this year. Mmmmm FIRE! (yes, I will take the recommended safety precautions).
• It feels good to have the house set up.
• We have spiders. They live in the basement. It’s all good.
• Next week, I will start looking for a job.
• My site was down for a while because I forgot to renew my domain name. Oops.
• I don’t want to work. It’s lovely sleeping until noon and going to bed @ 3 in the morning.

I really do have to get back to writing. The time is slipping away on me, but I guess that happens when you wake up late. I think D wants dinner and my tummy is a little rumbly.

Cat was kind enough to help us out by pointing us to a lovely apartment complex. The place is nice, and we would have a ground floor unit with a view. It’s a 2/1 and right in our budget. It is near transportation and close enough to the burbs to be convienant. It’s got a washer and dryer, a fireplace, and its a very pet-friendly complex. I submitted the application this week. We should be set for a place by the end of the week.
So, what’s the problem? I want a place to hang my birdfeeder. I want a tree and a yard, not even a fenced yard, but green. I want to be able to blast my music without disturbing the neighbors. I want to watch the dogs run free and bask in the sun. I want a house, and although the smart thing is to stick with the apartment, I still want a house.

This process is turning me into something dark and brooding. While I should be enjoying my last weeks in Orlando, I am scared that I will be dissatisfied with our next abode. Something in me bubbles with anger. When I feel like I have control on this unbearable monster, it rises again, and I just want to throw something, or to have a tantrum. It sounds juvenile and petty. We are about to embark on an adventure, and that requires flexibility. But the home is sacred, and I want it to be what I’m used to (at least to some extent — something with better insulation would be nice). It’s my own mind causing this trouble, and that’s the hardest part. All I really need to do is to change my mind, but that’s harder than I thought it would be.

And on top of it all — they put the “For Rent” sign in front of our house. It made me swallow my heart a little.

On a happier note, we spent Saturday night with Kim @ McCraneys (which is now my new hangout). She’s a funny motherfucker, and we mocked the super-fab kids with special hair. BUT there was an interesting development. A very “pretty” (as in commercially pretty) girl stumbled up to our table carrying a gas can. She was hitting everyone up for money because she was moving to LA. I thought it was an interesting way to go about getting gas money. Perhaps I should try this.

I got new sunglasses. They have wooden parts. They are cool. And, the lenses won’t fall out! AND they are my actual prescription.

This is my last week of work. I don’t know how I feel about it. I think I will wallow in my self-pity and drink my coffee. Don’t worry. The manic depression will swing me out of the low in a bit. It always does.