Friday, August 22, 2008


The following is a true story.  It is told verbatim.  I will give a bit of background to illustrate the level of embarrassment and general experience of horror I encountered.  Put the seat-belts on.  It may be a long ride, but trust me it is worth it.  That is, if you like reveling in the pain of others.  I know I do.

We begin with a fairly benign story.  It involves common themes.  It was a Tuesday night and I had a glass of wine.  It was cheap.  As in from the value wine isle.  But, it was BV, which happens to be one of my and AM's fave Napa/affordable wines and we just discovered it comes in the redonculously big size.  You see where this may be going.  You are partly correct and partly way off base.  Let's continue.  

I open the bottle and drink at a fairly reasonable pace.  I know I don't have to be up early for work, but I am certainly not looking to be shitty on a Tuesday night.  I go upstairs and cuddle into bed.  It is a bit warm still, but I figure the breeze will pick up and I will fall asleep to the gentle sway of air and mini-blinds.  Aaron has opted to sleep downstairs after a while, because I am still up reading (and drinking) with the light on.  Also it is still hot.  Add to this his radiator like abilities and we have one overheated mexican.  

Good so far right?  Yes.  And this is where you may expect things to go horribly wrong, but they don't.  I drink more wine, and admittedly get a little emo.  I listened to songs that always pull on my heart strings and make me consider yesteryears, but overall I was fine.  No big deal.  The night continued and I realized I wasn't sleepy yet, so I started to watch a documentary online and feel oh-so enlightened about oil and how the USA became so dependent on it.  I felt smart and a slightly lit.  It was verging on 4am at this point.  5am came around and it finally occurred to me that perhaps I should really put some effort into sleeping.  Okay, that sounds good.  

I was feeling sort of alone and it was still warm upstairs so I decided to go downstairs to the makeshift bed we have in our dining room.  It looks a little out of place, admittedly, but when it is effing hot at night, it is the best design idea ever.  I make my way downstairs and crawl into bed with AM in a rather ungraceful manner.  I mumble something about drinking lots of wine over the past 8 hours (holy moly!) and that I want to cuddle.  I am not a cuddly person.  In fact often I resist being held or hugged or touched for long periods of time.  Growing up in a non-touchy family trained me this way.  AM is very much a person who appreciates the closeness of someone loved and welcomed my drunken affection.  He was too far asleep to really register anything anyways. 

Are you still with me?  It will get good real soon, I promise. 

I pass out spooning AM, which is something I hardly ever do.  He thinks I am being sweet and I have no idea what I am doing because the wine hit me, it is 5am and my body doesn't care where it is.  All it wants is sleep.  I would really like to take good wife credit for the cuddle factor, but truthfully I can't.  Suck.

AM's alarm goes off in what really seems to me as five or ten minutes after I fall asleep.  In actuality it is 3 hours later.  I grumble something, AM kisses me on the forehead (I think) and says how nice it was to sleep so close.  I shush him like the bitch I am and try to count the glasses of wine I had the night/morning before.  Before I can come up with an official number I am passed out again.  AM I think kisses me goodbye after he showers and puts on his suit.  I am not completely sure about this, but it is a lovely habit he has, so I can assume he followed through as usual.  

Have we established that I am hung-over and barely cognizant?  I think so.  

This is where it gets good.  It does require a slight detour of story, but it will all make sense in time and I assure you, if you like super unlikely and humiliating stories, you should certainly hang in.  You will be rewarded.

On Monday I called our landlord's maintenance line to request AGAIN that they fix a window with a massive crack in it.  It was on our first floor and had me all freaked out because a broken window seems like an invitation to a burglar or crackhead to come in and take our things and/or accost me and the kitties.  I am not okay with any of those things, so I called again and again until I received notice that the company they contract with would be out by weeks end.  Also, I am breaking out and just learned that toothpaste is a home remedy for zits.  I went to
bed with five minty dots on my face.

Do you see where this is going?  Let me spell it out.  

Me: (in bed, hungover in panties and a wife-beater) whazzuh?!
Door: Bang bang bang.  Repair men!
Me: (throwing off covers) what?
Repairmen: We have authorization to enter to fix the window.
Me:  (to myself) what?  I thought they weren't coming for another few days... What the hell time is it?
Repairmen: We are going to enter now. (key in door)
Me: Ah! Woop! Hah!
Repairman 1:  Hello, we are from... oh shit there is a girl in a bed!
Repairman 2: Where? Oh, she's naked!
Me: No, I... Its okay (throwing covers over my ass).  Umm, just come on in and take care of the window.  thats what your here for right?
Repairman 2: Yeah, that's what we said.
Me: (wiping toothpaste from my face) umm, so what do you need to do?
repairman 1: Is this the window? (pointing to a clearly broken windowpane)
Me: yes.
Repairman 1 and 2: we can take care of this from the outside.
Me: (pulling the sheet up to my eyelids) are you sure.  I can go upstairs if you need me to.
Repairman 1: no, its fine ma'am.  It will be easier if we do it from the outside.  we just needed to get a look at it.  Umm, so we will be removing the window and making some noise... soo...
Me: That's fine.  Just let me know if you need anything.

They left as though their asses were on fire and I grabbed a towel from the dryer and hightailed it upstairs before they could catch more views of my barely covered tush.  Not that they would want to, but you never know.  

I hid upstairs for the next hour with a pounding headache and a very bruised ego just waiting for them to finish so I could pour myself the biggest glass of water known to mankind and try to compose myself for work.  

All I can think about is my pink mesh panties barely covering my hiney as my non-sober, toothpaste dotted face peered out at two highly unsuspecting men.  Is there a lesson to be learned?  Maybe, but I have no idea what it is because I am too busy trying to erase the memory altogether.  

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

My office overlooks trees and underlooks the sky

I finally have my home office set up the way I want it and sitting at my small desk which is situated in front of a large open window feels pretty damn good.  Today the breeze is blowing in and the kittehs are sitting on the sill watching the birds and the weird dude that swims in the pool with his swim trunks halfway down his ass.  

I was very productive today and managed to get all the things on my "to-do" list done by 1pm.  This never happens.  So of course I added a few more items to the list and am predictably procrastinating now.  Don't want to much of a good thing, right?

Here are some pictures of my file cabinet that I decoupaged the shit out of.  Goddamn, I'm good.

Top Drawer
Bottom Drawer
Right Side (with desk leg in the way...whatevs)
Left Side
I am particularly fond of the poppies (they will make you sleep) and the Yellow Submarine references.  Can you find them all?  shit that sounded like some dumbass kids book or interactive video with pauses built it.  Fuck you Dora the Explorer.  Oh and p.s. your title doesn't technically rhyme, so what are you really teaching kids?  Yeah, that's what I thought.

I had no idea there is so much pent up animosity towards a little latina cartoon in me.  #92857362 item to bring up to my shrink....

Let's lighted the mood, shall we?  this picture frame can be found here at Second Line Frames etsy shop.  It is made from salvage wood from Katrina damaged houses and buildings.  I think between the aesthetic quality and back story it may be the prettiest picture frame ever.  
And lastly a bit of an self-educational piece.  I have been watching a series developed by Ted Turner (don't hate) about the Cold War.  It is a 24 part piece with each episode about 45 minutes long and it is fascinating!  Here is the link to the first episode.  They are all hosted on google video, but who knows how long.  It has really got me thinking about our past presidents in a much different way as well as the various advisors and state department higher-ups.  In particular I began to ponder what things would have been like if Condoleezza Rice had been the Secretary of State (or a similar post) when Carter was president.  I feel that Condi is so limited in her efforts to facilitate peace talk between Israel and well... everyone else because of our current (and soon to be over!!!) administration.  She is so bright and is a true patriot as well as a pragmatist.  Certainly I don't agree on all points with her even if she were free of the burden of the "Bush agenda," but I like to imagine the greater success she could have had in the last 8 years in promoting peace accords without the yoke of continued conservative financial backing of Israel.  It truly limits what we are able to say and do in order to establish a meaningful level of amity in the region.  I am far from anti-Israel, but America's constant shipment of arms (we gave then the technology and materials for a nuclear bomb) and huge financial involvement (congress passes legislation to send millions every year) restricts our appearance of sincerity when in talks with neighboring nations.  

Okay, end political rant.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

The weepies

1.  Just ate some leftovers strait from my non-stick fancy (yeah, in 1994) teflon pan.  I ate it with a metal fork and contemplated just how much teflon bits I was scraping up and swallowing into my already compromised system.  Whatever, the leftovers were yummier than the when I made them.  

2.  What I am wearing right now.  I am not joking:

Look, you know its hot, so don't hate.  Sometimes when you are doing laundry and your husband is miles away and you feel like shit, short-shorts, a grey wife-beater, and your favorite blue scarf is the way to go.  you don't ask questions, you just listen to your gut and say "Gut, that sounds eccentric and stylish.  I think I will do it.  Thanks!"  

Then you maniacally clean your kitchen floor, move a bookshelf from downstairs to upstairs, make homemade ice tea, take the covers off couch seats for spot cleaning and washing, rearrange furniture and hope it will keep this feeling you been trying to shake all day at bay.  

which brings us to point 3.

3.  I have been almost uncontrollably weepy the last two days.  It hits mostly in the evening hours and I just start quietly hiccuping and sniffling in the middle of normal things.  Last night AM and I were watching the special feature of "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" and I suddenly found myself in his lap with tears silently running down my nose on to his lightwash jeans.  Later as I was getting ready for bed AM found me in the bathroom hunkered over the sink, water running for no clear reason (sorry earth), with my head in my hands and my shoulders unevenly jerking as I cried.  

Today, the same.  I took care of some online banking stuff and then promptly began to leak tears.  And yes, I feel sad, but the things is: I have no idea what these tears are about!?!  Which leads me to believe it is hormonal or chemical or some dumb shit, but I really don't know.  
I do know that I don't look a thing like Miss Paltrow here, but we will pretend because otherwise I might engage in a crying jag all because of you!

4.  My laundry is done and I have some wine to drink.  here is a parting gift that I found here


Friday, August 15, 2008

For the record

1.  I did end up making dinner last night.  Just at like 10 at night.  and it was very tasty.  and AM did not starve.  I think I am redeemed, don't you?

2.  Listening to Blur's "Parklife" album is rocking my world right now.  I have it on at "11" mother fuckas!  'cause I can.

3.  I read my best friend's novel last night and I cried and laughed and was really moved.  Holy shit Leslye, you have mad skills!  I am in awe and can't wait to see it in print.

4.  I have decided that I do not like my job.  Mostly due to the fact that I am hardly working and I just really don't want to have to load my vehicle to the brim with children toys, client files, and the smell of my own personal defeat for each time I have to drive from one house full of crazy behaviorally challenge people to another.  I just want to be a secretary at a law office, or flower arranger or some shit.  goddamn partylite candles, shit man.

5.  I am going to dye my hair and grow out my bangs.  Again... ugh. it is a hard process, but I think will be worth it.  I'll be all super sultry for fall.  and I LOVE fall.  

6. this is a totally useless blog entry.  and I am okay with that.  

7.  there is always happy hour to look forward to.  getting toasty with friends at 6pm is pretty excellent.  

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Dinner tonight

I was going to make a super tasty linguini dish tonight with cooked down duck broth (from a duck soup I had), lots of butter and fresh mushrooms, asparagus and bacon.  it was going to be epic.  I made the recipe up in my head and salivated at the thought of it.  

I made a quick trip to the store to pick up a few items (I do not recommend running out of deodorant on a day that hits 102 degrees with 100,000% humidity.  rivulets of sweat from various crevices.  not so much the sexy).  During my shopping excursion I had to deal with this really creaptastic man that seemed extra-jittery (crackpipe much?) that kept "appearing" in the same isle as me.  Noticeably lacking was anything accumulating in his basket.  hmmm.  Oh and did I mention I am in the middle of my period and everything hurts and I hate the world.  Yeah, that may be important to the arc of the story.  

Walking into the wine section I gasp and see that Little Debbie Nutty Bars are on sale for $1 instead of the $1.39 printed on the box!!  holy wafers and peanut-butter batman!  and that was the turning point.  I arrived home to announce to AM that he was on his own for food and that I was going to be busy figuring out how to use the heating pad to calm the muscle clenches without dying of heatstroke.  

Everything looks better when you have Little Debbie on your side. 

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Dirty Words

CAN’T STOP MAKING LISTS.  Here is just a taste of what my listing habit looks like:   

1. You can't really see it, but one of the lists has water damage.  This can be attributed to Elton John’s habit of pawing at nearly full glasses of water when they are near anything of value or importance.  Namely, work-related documents, pictures we only have one copy of, and my super essential catalogs of “to-do”.   Lists also help me organize my thoughts and keep track of them.  This does assume that I don’t misplace the scraps of paper I use to scribble my grocery needs or books ideas on.  Can’t win them all. 

2.  Dirty words:  I have always had a bit of a potty mouth.  Its just the way I roll mutha fuckas.  Lately I have noticed a trend in my use of expletives that pleases me, as well as makes me wonder about my relative sanity.  Here is an example taken from real life:  I was sitting on the couch going over some training materials for my new job the other day and my beloved iMac slid to the floor creating general cacophony and annoyance for me and the cats.  My response?  “mothershit dandelion balls!”  This was said out loud to no one in particular.  Where did the dandelion balls come from you may wonder.  Yeah, me too.  I have no idea.  What I do know is it sounded right in the moment and felt good to say.  I enjoy the frivolity of including a flower/weed in a string of curse words to lighten the tone and create an air of “huh?”  All else fails, confuse your opponent.  

After placing my computer in a safe location and finishing my reading materials I began to ponder my predilection for peppering my bad words with otherwise innocuous nouns and verbs.  I occasionally throw in a simile too.  Where did this come from?  Have I always done this and just now actually heard myself?  What will people think?  (Okay the last one didn’t cross my mind at all)  I then remembered stories about my great uncle Chet, known to all as a booze hound with a panache for mistreating those he loved and mixing his foul language with everyday terms.   Can a person inherit a way of talking?  Probably not, but I am certainly wondering about nature/nurture a bit.  Hopefully his other traits that I am less enamored with will stay his alone.  Otherwise Applefuckin'Pie to you and yours! (that was apparently a favorite saying of his).
AM made a great point about cuss words the other evening when we were out drinking sangria and munching on calimari linguini. I brought up how some people suggests that individuals who use salty language are only displaying their limited vocabulary and "verbal vision."  That somehow expletives equal an unimaginative mind.  For a small period of time I convinced myself I agreed and tried (in vain I might add) to cut down on cussing and replace "fucktard" with "he who irritates and displays only the briefest consideration of ideas."  Just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?  AM recounted a discussion he had with some college peers about the same issue.  Well intentioned as they may have been with their desire to rid the world of cuss words, AM totally owned their asses with his perspective.  The essential point he made was the following (tinged of course with my spotty memory.  any flaws, are no doubt mine): 

Words are like colors in many ways.  We use them to give tone and create a feeling or desired response.  So like the painter uses all the shades of the rainbow.  If you have ever spent time really looking at some of the most revered pieces of art you will see all the small strokes of brush and variances of color.  You will most likely spot a color that you find, on its own, completely unpleasant.  Who would ever want to see such a color?  But then you take a step back and notice that it is the exact right color for the overall picture.  that it could be no other color.  That speck of pukey-green makes the painting emote, connect and be as it should.  The same goes for words.  Fuck may be harsh to hear at times, but really what is better than saying "fuck this shit!" and storming out of an undesirable situation?  I contend, there is no other turn of phrase that fits in certain moments. 

AM is crazy smart.  And he insists that when he made this point to an avid, but disagreeing audience his was still completely lit from the night before.   Awesome+.

3.  Last one.  I found airfare up to Seattle during Labor day week for $210 roundtrip!  What's that you said?  I'm rad?  Well, thanks!  Sometimes I think so too.  

Monday, August 4, 2008

Off The Grid

But I am back now.  Not for a lack of things to say or post did I take a few weeks off from blogging.  Mostly I was creepily hoarding all my ideas and words to myself.  Well, myself and AM.  Mental hermit though I may imagine myself, I also happen to be a chatterbox with opinions about  We knew that already.  I shall play catch-up over the next few days and post annoyingly long rants like the following.

let's make a list:

1.  I am gainfully employed!  Having spent the last five months (yes, FIVE) collecting unemployment, getting depressed about not being hired for anything and just generally moping about because I could... I am now a Behavioral Management Consultant.  I thought I was done with the field of behavior analysis, but I got sucked back in again and am pretty excited.  

2. LOOK!  isn't this beautiful?  it is call teatime and you can find it and other lovely pictures here.  Seriously, go.

3.  I can't decide if I adore this carpet idea or really dislike it.  It is from Urban Outfitters and my initial response was "yum", but I am starting to hedge on that....

4. Drugs (the legal kind kids.  Don't get any ideas):  the "Goods and bads" analysis.  I have been on two different drugs for months now to stabilize my mood.  Part of my time off from working was to get the balance right, as there is no exact science to drug combination and dosage amount.  after a few horrific experiences (i.e. seroquel will make you feel like you have lost all control over your motor functions all while having a long lasting panic attack.  I walked into walls, fell into the bathtub, gripped my bed for dear life believing it was spinning and questioned if I was going to make it through the night.  teh suck.  this was just my experience though.) I have made it to the other side and am displaying fairly regulated levels of emotion, energy, and mental control when things get hairy.  These are all very good things.  Of course they are somewhat mitigated by the cons.  Missing a dose (for whatever reason.  forgot to take it, prescription ran out, etc) can be a really bad thing.  Essentially you go into withdrawal like you would with any drug your body is dependent on.  the shakes, the sweats, headaches...  It happened once for me and threw me for a loop.  The experience left me that much less enamored with pharmaceuticals, but once back on the regiment I remembered why I got on them in the first place.  Another bummer are the expected side-effects.  I am now the proud owner of a few extra pounds and sometimes when I sit very still or lay down, I display small tics.  a random muscle will twitch and jump and then not move again until I voluntarily make it.  the weight gain is hard to take and I am starting to exercise again to see if that doesn't get me back to where I want to be.  I miss being skinny.  Don't get me wrong, my curves are wonderful, I simply like when then are defined and accentuated by a nice, tight waistline!  I never fail to be amazed about the 5 pounds all women seem to be convinced they should lose.  I am now apart of that group.
This is all potentially not very exciting to many, but hell it is my blog and only like 2 people read it, so what the fuck do I care?  The point I want to make and have been mulling over in my head is that although taking medication can be a drag, the benefits really are so important.  I guess I need to remind myself of that by writing it where it can be seen.

5. I made this.  old LP+oven+mad skillz = nifty bowl.

6.  Laughter and truth.  This has been all over, but I can't resist reposting.  If you need to enhance to see it better get a magnifying glass.  sheesh, do I have to do everything for you?

7.  I am fairly certain that I need this:
and this:
and a view of this.  from the bedroom.
I am really craving the coast and the morning mist.  Sacramento has been beautiful the last two weeks, so I probably shouldn't complain.  We have been lucky enough to have nights that cool down so we can turn off the AC and open the windows so the breeze runs through the house.  I love that feeling of cool air on my as I drift off to sleep...  

8.  another good laugh.