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Showing posts from 2011

You got some 'splainin' to do

Sunday night. The time is currently 2357. Or 11:57pm. Whichever floats your boat. Normally...well...normally as in for the last two months exactly....this would not be a big deal. The being awake on a Sunday night at 2359 (11:59pm). Why? Because I was unemployed. My Monday mornings consisted of rolling out of bed with just enough time to pee, rub that crusty shit out of my eyes, put on pants, get the monkey ready for school, and roll out. Like a boss. Or baws. Whichever. But this Monday morning? The one that's happening directly? I gots me a job. So why is it that it's 0002, and I'm awake? And not just awake. But flogging. Oh holy hell my phone just corrected blogging to flogging. Some parallels there maybe? Methinks yes. Anyway. Blogging. From my phone even. Because I can't sleeeeeeeep! I'm not excited. No really. I'm not. I don't know what I'm walking into, why would I be excited? And I'm not nervous for the same reason. Here's what

I....you....it's.... Huh.

** Back story:  the monkey was on the phone with her father, and mentioned that her Grandpa Larry had died, and was in Heaven with Jesus.  The following is the text exchange between him and I after the phone call ended** Ex:  Did someone die?  She said "papa and Lilly went to Jesus" Me:  Grandpa Larry. He died of cancer the day after Easter Ex:  I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences. Is she handling the loss okay? Me:  It's hard for her to understand.  It's not tangible for her.  So she talks about it on occasion.  His picture is on my desk in the office, and she saw it while on the phone with you and thought she would bring it up. Ex: Thanks for the info.  I wanted to be able to speak with her if she did ask questions.  Again, my condolences. Me:  We tell her he isn't sick any more because he's in Heaven with Jesus.  Same with a bunny that died at her daycare.  Miss Carol's bunny if it comes up as well.  Generally it's always brought up on the s

Who's the Chuck Norris of gardening now?

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Sprouts!  People!  We have sprouts! I've been keeping my unemployed self busy the last week or so painting my office and getting it usable, which is another post in and of itself. But first?  To quell the nay saying cries of "NO PICTURES NO HAPPEN." On Saturday?  No.  Today is Saturday.  Or yesterday.  Whatever.  Not Saturday.  Guess it would have been Thursday?  Sure, we'll go with Thursday. *Thursday* as I was breaking down my make shift office to move it into the actual office, I had to move my pellets of nothingness.  And after having spent two months of love and labor to get those little shit seeds to sprout and gotten nothing...NOTHING...in return, I had resigned myself to tossing all 72 pellets of wasted energy into the trash.  I had a moment of silence for all the vegetable death that had occurred, and carried my starter tray outside to chunk that bitch in the trash. And then?  The sun hit something inside the plastic cover just right.  Was that a hi

Ahem *cough, cough

Yes, yes, I'm still here.  I just do not have anything to talk about. No seriously.  Let's go through the checklist, shall we? Job front - still unemployed.  check. Garden - still not growing.  not even a little bit.  check. Running - haven't been since the last race.  check. Weather - still cold and crappy.  check. So yeah, you know.  Lots of good stuff rockin' over here. Monkey leaves for Texas in a few days, so there's that. I am totally not winning lately, gah.

Blank spots

There aren't really many words in my head right now, just a lot of pain. Usually I love Easter.  No seriously.  I haven't really thought about it until just now, but I would have to say it's probably my favorite holiday. But this year it's different. I can't really say all I'm feeling.  Not because I don't want to, but because I literally don't know how to put into words the emotions. I've been praying and reading a lot of Scripture.  Sometimes I'm afraid that maybe my prayers to take away the pain is what brought us to this point.  Mostly I hope that it's bringing comfort where it's needed. And I wish I could do more. Jesus replied, "You do not realise now what I am doing, but later you will understand." John 13:7

It's not pot. Probably.

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Two weeks.  It's been two weeks since I planted the first seeds.  And do I have sprouts? No.  No I do not. So I've decided to change directions a bit. See, in Texas, tomato and cucumber plants, even strawberries, are flourishing and flowering.  Here in Misery, we are still in 40 degree weather. This is foreign to me. Also foreign?  The tornado drill (OMG I HOPE ITS A DRILL) that is happening right now.  Sirens and all.  I am writing this and resisting the urge to cower in the fetal position in my basement. Basements are also foreign to me. But back to the plants. I was telling my grandmother that none of my seeds had sprouted.  She asked where I had them.  I said outside.  She said duh.  Not really, but she could have.  Basically, the weather here is still too arctic for anything to be motivated to sprout.  And understandably so.  I have a hard time getting out from under my covers in the morning.  Basically my veggies and I are a bit of the same. So I've brought t

Great. Now I'm going to die of Lyme Disease

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** I actually wrote this on the 16th, which was...I dunno, awhile ago?  Just in case you care ** Since moving to this wonderful state of Misery, we seem to have suffered through more plagues than at any other time in my life. First came the lice. Oh sweet Jesus, the lice. I've never dealt with lice before.  Managed to live my whole entire existence on this planet without being attacked by tiny little head bugs.  But we moved here, and BAM!  The Monkey gets lice.  And of course, since she had lice, *I* got lice.  And then my niece.  And my sister. In case you're unaware, the Monkey has looong hair, down to her cute little butt.  And it's the most beautiful color and texture.  Which most of the time?  Is awesome.  When you add lice to the mix, you pretty much want to die.  Not her so much.  ME.  First doing the trial and error of what crap actually works, each trial taking any where from 4 hours to 2 days.  Then once you find something that works, you spend the next

Rainin' Rainin'

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There is something so serenely beautiful about a yard bursting with growth, blanketed in rain.  Makes me want to sit on my back porch (that has a tin roof, EVEN BETTER), cuddled with a blanket and a good book.  Sadly, I have neither chair to sit in out there nor the book currently, so desk chair inside and blog reading/facebooking/job hunting will have to suffice. Also?  I know I need to mow.  Guess what was on the agenda for today?  Apparently the storms we have been having since last night had other ideas. The little patch of flowers the Monkey and her cousin planted are flourishing.  So much so that the yellow/green snapdragons that were planted without blooms have opened up during this rain to show their neon face. Those are by far my favorite.  I love green.  I'm not gonna lie, even though the flowers were the girls project, I selected those. Seed update: Nope.  Nada.  Nothing.  I'm afraid we may have to admit defeat.  Which suuuuuuuuuuucks.

My brain. It's gone. And I miss it. Wait. What was I doing here?

Get Monkey ready for shower. Notice Monkey needs her nails clipped after shower. Think to myself I need to go into dining room and get clippers, which are on my desk. Get Monkey settled in shower, washing hair, etc. Leave Monkey in bathroom to go into dining room to get clippers, located on my desk. Walk 25 to 30 feet to dining room, specifically to desk. Turn on light on desk to facilitate finding clippers. Notice post it notes in middle of desk instead of in its proper place under the monitor. Note the name and phone number on top post it of potential interview. Remove top post it and stick to computer in highly visible place so I don't forget to return the call during business hours. Move remaining post its to appropriate place. Straighten a few other askew items. Turn off light on desk. Walk back into the bathroom. Finish bathing the Monkey. Go to clip Monkey's nails. Wonder what the hell I did with the clippers. Realize I never got the clippers. Wonder w

Rookie

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First, let's get this post started with a shout out to the BFF and her new blog.  You can find it here .  If you care.  And if you do visit, make sure you leave some inappropriate comment.  She appreciates those.  A lot.  And while I realize it's a little lacking now, once she figures out how to stop being blog 'retarted', I promise, it will pick up steam. At least that's what we are telling her.  SHHHHH. Annnywho, back to what's important here:  Me and my (temporarily) pitiful garden.  Only slight progress was made today, because, as with most of the projects I undertake, I *severely* underestimated the amount of crap I was going to have to do to get this ready. Let's be honest, shall we?  I totally thought I was going to be able to go outside, scrape off some weeds and grass and unruly ivy to reveal a garden bed just aching  to birth vegetables from it's soil-y loins. Realistically?  This is going to be the death of me. I now realize that the

Free time. As in, I have too much of it.

Through a very detailed, regimented morning routine on the internet, which consisted mostly clicking on whatever link looked interesting, I found myself looking at the social security administrations website of baby names.  Out of curiosity, I figured I'd take a gander at where the Monkey fell into play for the year she was born. 915 out of a thousand. Nine hundred and fifteenth... Now, obviously  when you name your kid you go with something interesting and unique in your little mind.  But to dump my kids name at almost the end of the list?  So basically it's me and that mother in Boognockistonia that speaks in clicks and whistles.  Awesome.  You know what was higher on the list than the Monkey's name? Genesis. Ximena. Dayanara. Monserrat. What the french toast, people.  My kid does not have an extraordinarily unique name.  To know that there were more girls born in the United States of freaking America named *MONSERRAT* than the Monkey's name....well...

Extraneous Gardening

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Today I made absolutely no progress what so ever on the vegetable garden.  It is what it is.  I've moved on from it, so should you. Instead I finished clearing out the area I planted a few rose bushes in.  I had put them into the ground this weekend, clearing out only the spots I intended to put the flowers into.  Today I went ahead and cleared the remaining area.  Mostly. As you can see, they are pathetic little knobby things that have a lot of growing to do.  There is also a pile of leaves and weeds waiting to be put into trash bags as well, but we're not going to focus on that at the moment.  The one on the far left is a red tea rose bush, hand picked by the magnificent Monkey herself.  The middle one will be a red and yellow blush rose bush, and then the one on the right are my yellow (tea) roses of Texas :)  I'm really hopeful they take root and flourish there.  They will get full sun until probably 1 or so, and then the sun will be blocked by the ladis.  For refere

Garden Master, Part 2

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Because I am one of those people that gets on a kick about something and works the bloody hell out of it, of course  I was back outside today diligently slaving over my potential gardening area.  Here's a daylight pic of the spot with yesterday's progress: I spent some time last night figuring up where I'm going to put everything.  Oh, and I also measured the bottom portion of the garden to so that I could accurately plan plant locations.  Turns out I was a bit off.  It's actually 12 x 6 on the bottom, 10 x 2.5 in that lower flower bed area, and I have no idea on the top, but the goal is to get at least a foot of width along there to plant the larger ones. Assuming I can do that (oh I am going  to do that), then I'll have the pumpkins and watermelons up in the top area.  This way as they start to grow larger, I can move the actual fruit onto the ledge and keep a better eye on them.  The cilantro, swiss chard (still don't know what this is), carrots, and peas

Just call me... Kung Fu Gardener.

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Not really, I kind of hate that name.  I don't even know why I said that. It's *finally* that time again!  The cold weather crap has gone....wait.  Please tell me it's gone.... It's gone, right, Missouri?  This isn't just you screwing with me again?  Because I will cut you....  I am unstable as it is, and I really really can't.... *ahem* The cold weather crap has  gone, and the trees are getting those green things, and the bugs are flying, and the birds are eating stuff, and the cats are picking teams for their late night yowl offs.  Also?  Time to put in a mutha fruckin' garden. I've already started the seeds.  Already.  Like I've been prepping this for months.  Actually?  Days.  I planted some in soil on Tuesday night, and I've done some more today.  I'm a little nervous about them taking.  I used a starter garden set I purchased last year, along with seeds that I got last year.  With the exception of today's plantings, it's

BOOBIES!

This post is not nearly as exciting as the title would lead you to believe, but a little false advertising never hurt anyone.  Except the guy that came here looking for porn.  Yeah.  You.  We see you.  And we are staring, judging and pointing.  The trifecta of shame.  So, you know....move along pervert, there's nothing for you to see here. Where was I? I've been running a lot of late.  Like...the last three months or so.  I've done a few 5K's and a four mile whatever you call it, and feel like I'm ready to move into 10K-dom.  So now you know that about me. The other thing you should know?  I have big boobs.  You know how some people knock stuff over with their over sized asses or their beer guts?  Like lamps and small children and such?  I do that too, but with my boobs.  And since they are boobs and slightly higher, it's taller children.  Well...higher when I have the right kind of support...  But you know what I mean.  One time I was able to fully suppor

At least he doesn't smell

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My cat?  Kinda has it made.  Food regularly delivered to a location only he can access (namely, away from the pig dogs).  Run of an old house with lots of hiding places to inspect.  Two dogs and a Monkey to harass with his kick ass Kung Fu moves.  I even let him sleep pretty much anywhere he wants, be it on the couch (rarely), in Monkey's bed (when she's not in it), my bed, the coffee table (yes, this is actually a favorite post of his), or even in the kitchen window sill (when it's open).  He even takes over the dog bed when the mood strikes him.   In general, I leave him alone, he leaves me alone.  Which is what made him an appealing as a pet in the first place .  Not *him* specifically, but cats in general.  Neediness freaks me out, and cats?  They do not hesitate to let you know that they don't need you in their lives, and any indication other wise is a damn lie.  This system works for us.  Yes, there is occasionally snuggling, petting, playing.  But it's ge

I pretty much hate everyone.

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I don't...forgive well.  I can hold a grudge like a champ.  And no, I'm not listing my good qualities.  I know these suck, and I should stop it.  But you know what?  That's easier said than done when you're a hermit.  Because all I have are my thoughts all the time non stop.  And when you are swimming through a depression, the likes of which haven't been seen in a long time, those thoughts?  Not necessarily rainbows and kitties.  Even in the good times, I'm not a rainbows and kitties type of gal. So forgiveness?  Yeah, I struggle with it.  There's a lot of things in my life that I turn to God for, but asking for the strength to be able to forgive others?  I'm more than a little soft in that area. But this?  I can totally get into this:

Some things really do never change

It's been about 4 years now.  And since the separation, almost five.  You would think that, by now, either something would have changed or I would have caught on that this is the kind of behavior I can expect all. The freaking. Time. But no.  Like banging my head against a concrete wall.  Just ONCE I'd like a padded cell instead. Here's the scenario: I emailed the ex to let him know that The Monkey has been scheduled for hearing and vision screenings.  When the vision folk called me, they asked all kinds of questions about her insurance, whether or not this is covered, does she have this kind of plan, blah blah blah.  Questions that I don't have the answer to (that is a *whole* other story, one that I am far too tired to get into at the moment), nor could I obtain them on my own.  So we (the vision folk and I) decided that we would go ahead and set the appointment, with the understanding that I would get the answers to the questions and take the appropriate action

Insomno-maniac

I'm pretty sure that's not a word, but whatever.  It's late, I'm the only one reading this, and you're not the boss of me. It's been several weeks now.  With the insomnia.  Ever since things got rocky at work.  Well that's vague as hell.  Since things got REALLY rocky at work.  Not the usual rockiness of my boss being about as stable as the tectonic plates surrounding Japan.  A new kind that I was familiarly unfamiliar with.  I'd seen it happen to others, but it was never displayed towards me.  Until several weeks ago. Familiarly unfamiliar.  That sounds like a legit phrase until you type it, read what you have typed, and then you feel like you have lost your damn mind and swallowed your tongue.  But I digress. Rocky at work, and the stress began.  Worrying about what this meant, and what that action could mean, and why would she say that, and all the while, do they know that I know? Losing that job wasn't stressful.  At all.  Being in that j

Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn

I'm not sure what I'm doing on here. Not just because of the time frame.  I mean, that's an awkward silence in and of itself.  Hi, remember me?  Yeah, me neither. I've moved.  It's been so long since I've written here I'm not sure if I wrote that I was going to.  But I have.  And here I am.  In a new home, in a new state, a new decade, and newly unemployed.  I've picked up some new habits, dropped some old ones.  It's like a whole new me. And honestly?  I kind of hate that bitch. It's almost like I'm back to my post-divorce life and mental state.  Everything up in the air, forging new boundaries, making a new path.  I did it before, I know I can do it again. But....why?  To what purpose?  What was wrong with the way things were?  Why did I all of a sudden have this overwhelming need to make drastic changes? The insomnia is back.  Clearly. I feel like when I posted before, it was because things happened in my life.  That I actual