Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Faced
Ever feel like you are getting a universal in your face?
Direct quote: "What are you talking about? I love this car. Besides, the Farmers Almanac said it's going to be a mild winter."
Direct quote: "What are you talking about? I love this car. Besides, the Farmers Almanac said it's going to be a mild winter."
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Being busy for the holidays makes me feel like an adult
I was supposed to go to yoga on Tuesday but my brother bailed out and I just don't want to go alone. Once I am past a couple of classes maybe. My idea of group settings where I participate have changed a bit and I get jumpy. Hmm. We went and saw The Fighter instead and as much as I am getting tired of the bad boy Boston party Hollywood is throwing as of late, it was a decent film. And pretty right on. Just like all the other bad boy Boston films as of late damn it. The Town. Just go see it. It was awesome.
I went to The Slutcracker with AA. It was a Burlesque theme, and it was pretty great. We sat in the front row and that rocks any time you get to do it. AA said, it was like they were putting on the show just for us. That's how I feel about most things but without the people in front of you it's a lot easier to imagine. I don't know how I feel about Burlesque. I mean, I don't look down on it or anything like that, I just don't know how I feel when it is presented to me. I watch it, I dig it and then I question it for a good long time. But then again, I feel that way about a bunch of things, now don't I?
The lights in my car totally went off a while back and I was all yay my car fixed itself. It lasted for a little while and I was so pleased even though I got the typical commentary from everyone who knows better about how cars don't fix themselves and just because lights go off blah blah blah. So hey, to all those people, the lights are back on. Look at that, you were right. Bastards. Thanks for putting that out there over and over again. The neat-o part is that the lights went back on right as I needed an oil change so I like to think that's an overall win right there. As much as this little car has a hard time in super snowy conditions, it totally has my back.
We have the coolest dog ever here and he rules planet good dog. Not only did he ride about with me to complete Christmas errands the evening I picked him up he did it in such a well mannered fashion that it actually made it more enjoyable. And seriously, how enjoyable are Christmas errands? Then once back at the house, I let the Tabster out to meet him and he was the perfect gentleman even though she was slightly maniacal about having a new best friend. He and the James did fine. It's the James. Come on now. This little dude is just it though. Quiet, impeccable behavior, plays well with everyone... what more could I ask for really? I might see if they'll trade me for Tabitha. They kind of look the same so I don't see why it wouldn't work out.
Okay so maybe trading is a bit much but this dude is rad. This is the type of guy who has a can do I am totally trustworthy kind of attitude because, well, he is. Where should he sleep? How about wherever he wants! Dog beds everywhere just in case he decides he likes a certain room better! Hey man, I'm going to step out for a minute alright? Yes! That sounds great! I'll be just fine and waiting right here for you being the most perfect dog ever! Want to let him into the backyard with everyone and not have to worry about gearing up to be totally present? Cool, you go ahead and just supervise through the glass slider! Want him to come inside or over to you? Just say the word and he is up close and personal! Need a thorough tongue bath on both feet? You got it! The list goes on and on. My personal favorite is his one sided tail wag whenever you look in his direction. Total confirmation that you not only exist but you are important and loved. The ultimate dog. In my house.
I went to The Slutcracker with AA. It was a Burlesque theme, and it was pretty great. We sat in the front row and that rocks any time you get to do it. AA said, it was like they were putting on the show just for us. That's how I feel about most things but without the people in front of you it's a lot easier to imagine. I don't know how I feel about Burlesque. I mean, I don't look down on it or anything like that, I just don't know how I feel when it is presented to me. I watch it, I dig it and then I question it for a good long time. But then again, I feel that way about a bunch of things, now don't I?
The lights in my car totally went off a while back and I was all yay my car fixed itself. It lasted for a little while and I was so pleased even though I got the typical commentary from everyone who knows better about how cars don't fix themselves and just because lights go off blah blah blah. So hey, to all those people, the lights are back on. Look at that, you were right. Bastards. Thanks for putting that out there over and over again. The neat-o part is that the lights went back on right as I needed an oil change so I like to think that's an overall win right there. As much as this little car has a hard time in super snowy conditions, it totally has my back.
We have the coolest dog ever here and he rules planet good dog. Not only did he ride about with me to complete Christmas errands the evening I picked him up he did it in such a well mannered fashion that it actually made it more enjoyable. And seriously, how enjoyable are Christmas errands? Then once back at the house, I let the Tabster out to meet him and he was the perfect gentleman even though she was slightly maniacal about having a new best friend. He and the James did fine. It's the James. Come on now. This little dude is just it though. Quiet, impeccable behavior, plays well with everyone... what more could I ask for really? I might see if they'll trade me for Tabitha. They kind of look the same so I don't see why it wouldn't work out.
Okay so maybe trading is a bit much but this dude is rad. This is the type of guy who has a can do I am totally trustworthy kind of attitude because, well, he is. Where should he sleep? How about wherever he wants! Dog beds everywhere just in case he decides he likes a certain room better! Hey man, I'm going to step out for a minute alright? Yes! That sounds great! I'll be just fine and waiting right here for you being the most perfect dog ever! Want to let him into the backyard with everyone and not have to worry about gearing up to be totally present? Cool, you go ahead and just supervise through the glass slider! Want him to come inside or over to you? Just say the word and he is up close and personal! Need a thorough tongue bath on both feet? You got it! The list goes on and on. My personal favorite is his one sided tail wag whenever you look in his direction. Total confirmation that you not only exist but you are important and loved. The ultimate dog. In my house.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Heart center open, breathing with your nose, shoulders relaxed and down, it's okay to wobble, trees move in the wind...
I have never seen so many dash lights come on at the same time. VSC, TRACK OFF, CHECK ENGINE... good lord, now what? I think the VSC is because I pumped gas without turning my car off. Twice. This is new for me and I am not certain why I felt the need to suddenly make that habit. So. But the rest? I have no idea. I had the dude at AutoZone read me the codes and apparently the cylinders are misfiring. Cylinder 3 and 4 to be exact. Which explains the sudden dogging, the strange and uneven idling, not to mention the shit gas mileage. It does not explain the screaming noise that only happens when the car is warmed up and traveling at about 35 - 40. If my tire falls off, it was definitely a bearing. Otherwise, it's a belt. I'm going with the belt since they're constantly making crazy noises anyway. What's really interesting about the "belt noise" is that any time I have a fully functioning mechanic in the car it is totally silent. In fact, the car runs perfectly in that case. I have decided I am going to either marry a car mechanic or at the very least, sucker one into riding in my car all the time so as to avoid any other vehicular issues. Problem solved.
I went to a yoga class last night. My complete and utter lack of focus is paired with my sudden bouts of silent crying made it more of an adventure than I expected. The teacher is a woman I met years ago at a tattoo convention and she is the perfect example of a yoga teacher. Super positive, incredibly flexible and stock full of praise for a job well done without any type of judgement. "No one is on the same path. We are all fine exactly where we are. We feel our space and accept our space". This is precisely what I have been looking for. I think I would go nightly were it not for the part where she charges people. I might get out my yoga DVD and just do that shit like I used to. Practice makes perfect and whatnot.
Anyway, there I was in class with a bunch of other people. My brother was ignoring me because he hates when I am "a spectacle" which in his world essentially means when we are anywhere there are other people besides us. I kept laughing and made a very conscious effort to try and keep it under my breath but WOW am I out of shape and not flexible. I also kept confusing my left from my right and doing crazy ass things that made no sense. I ended up putting my mat next to this other chick who was some kind of super yogi so of course I starting keeping my eye on her to see if I was doing the right movements but she never once broke her pose or breathing pattern and balanced like she was the mf'ing equinox. So there I was falling all over the place, staring at her laughing, with my brother beside me wearing his judging face (which is so not yoga flavored I might add). And even though I really was trying, I was still all out of breath and feeling weird that me and the hundred year old lady matched for flexibility but more weirded out by the fact that I so wanted to reach out and push little miss perfect just enough that if she didn't tip over she would have to at the very least fix her position. So unyoga of me. At least I kept it on the inside. The crying was a little more difficult but luckily it always came at a point where my head was down or at the very end when we were relaxing and letting our "muscles fall off the bone" and I kept it under control.
Since I was having so much trouble stopping the hysterical woman inside me from screaming, sleep was becoming quite the commodity. In fact it was more like staring at the ceiling trying to persuade myself to go to sleep in this little sing songy mantra that did nothing but make me feel more crazy than when I just stayed up and got all slaphappy and psychotic. Enter pzizz sleep module. I turn it on and get all comfy and next thing you know, the crazy lady takes a breath and it's just long enough for me to attain my slumber goal. When I remember the tea with Valerian root I not only go out, I stay out. It's so fantastic. There is also the 20 minute refresher that for some reason only works for me when I don't have any disturbances. If the James so much as breathes loud, it doesn't work. But when I close myself into a room, put in the ear buds and go for it, it's like a landslide of revival. Two thumbs up, highly recommended and all that other stuff. Oh yeah and I'm not saying pirate the codes to avoid paying for it because that would be wrong and I am a good person who tries to do the right thing.
I went to a yoga class last night. My complete and utter lack of focus is paired with my sudden bouts of silent crying made it more of an adventure than I expected. The teacher is a woman I met years ago at a tattoo convention and she is the perfect example of a yoga teacher. Super positive, incredibly flexible and stock full of praise for a job well done without any type of judgement. "No one is on the same path. We are all fine exactly where we are. We feel our space and accept our space". This is precisely what I have been looking for. I think I would go nightly were it not for the part where she charges people. I might get out my yoga DVD and just do that shit like I used to. Practice makes perfect and whatnot.
Anyway, there I was in class with a bunch of other people. My brother was ignoring me because he hates when I am "a spectacle" which in his world essentially means when we are anywhere there are other people besides us. I kept laughing and made a very conscious effort to try and keep it under my breath but WOW am I out of shape and not flexible. I also kept confusing my left from my right and doing crazy ass things that made no sense. I ended up putting my mat next to this other chick who was some kind of super yogi so of course I starting keeping my eye on her to see if I was doing the right movements but she never once broke her pose or breathing pattern and balanced like she was the mf'ing equinox. So there I was falling all over the place, staring at her laughing, with my brother beside me wearing his judging face (which is so not yoga flavored I might add). And even though I really was trying, I was still all out of breath and feeling weird that me and the hundred year old lady matched for flexibility but more weirded out by the fact that I so wanted to reach out and push little miss perfect just enough that if she didn't tip over she would have to at the very least fix her position. So unyoga of me. At least I kept it on the inside. The crying was a little more difficult but luckily it always came at a point where my head was down or at the very end when we were relaxing and letting our "muscles fall off the bone" and I kept it under control.
Since I was having so much trouble stopping the hysterical woman inside me from screaming, sleep was becoming quite the commodity. In fact it was more like staring at the ceiling trying to persuade myself to go to sleep in this little sing songy mantra that did nothing but make me feel more crazy than when I just stayed up and got all slaphappy and psychotic. Enter pzizz sleep module. I turn it on and get all comfy and next thing you know, the crazy lady takes a breath and it's just long enough for me to attain my slumber goal. When I remember the tea with Valerian root I not only go out, I stay out. It's so fantastic. There is also the 20 minute refresher that for some reason only works for me when I don't have any disturbances. If the James so much as breathes loud, it doesn't work. But when I close myself into a room, put in the ear buds and go for it, it's like a landslide of revival. Two thumbs up, highly recommended and all that other stuff. Oh yeah and I'm not saying pirate the codes to avoid paying for it because that would be wrong and I am a good person who tries to do the right thing.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
There aint no rewind button fool! Every minute is a fresh moment up in this here place.
Oh shit. I'm almost positive the Raina show is about to start back up. Please take your seats and turn off your phones. Or put them in the washing machine.
Yeah yeah, ha ha, super funny, go you. Oh wait. I never mentioned the washed phone here, did I? Huh. It made me wild because I don't normally do things like that with my electronics and attempt to take decent care of them. I just don't lose or break that stuff and haven't in an while. Well. Er. Heh. Oh, what can I say? It was a good run while it lasted.
It went something like this: I was getting my laundry together when I decided I also wanted to wash the sweatshirt that was currently on my body. I emptied the pockets (which included my phone) onto the dining room table. I then heard my message tone and since I had been in the middle of a text session with someone and have the focus of a ferret, I picked the phone back up before I took off the sweatshirt. You see where this is going right? Phone back in pocket, sweatshirt into washer, communication to the outside world gone like yesterday albeit a super squeaky clean phone. I tried the rice trick to no avail. I wanted to be all boo, I hate this missing phone thing and don't get me wrong, I was a little panicky when driving a distance from home at first but then... the silence. The no phone = no responsibility sweet silence. And I started taking it all in. I leave the house and shhhh... that's right... I'm an owl on the wings of the darkest night. And I got into it big time, until someone went all snark snark. And yes, try not to faint, I cared enough to do something about it. Commence phone shopping. Which is the entire point of this long drawn out totally unnecessary lead in.
At the phone store I put my busted ass phone on the counter and tell my unlucky victim of the day that I need a new one and I want the purple one. Yes, that was the only thing I cared about at that time, excuse me for being a light sensitive idiot and going ga ga over the color purple. The color, not the movie. That movie is just plain awful. So yeah, there I was all omg, I love the purple one btw so like can I have that one please mr salesman sir? He looked surprised and told me that's not the one I want. I then had him explain crackberries to me in every single minute detail. Mostly because it makes me laugh, a little because he's arguing with me out loud instead of keeping it in his head and a surd I'm not the phone expert, he is = that'll learn him. But didn't he come back with "you won't enjoy that phone, it's for beginners" and even though I guffawed at the absurdity of that statement, he bravely went on to explain that I am in the advanced user category of blackberry users. That's right, I'm advanced. As much as it's one of the funniest things I have heard in a while, and I now feel I have the right to mock the people who are so clearly beginners (whatever that means! It's awesome! Try it, you'll love it!), I will say that this phone is super duper amounts of fun so I'm keeping it. I even went so far as to connect my email through it. Is that how an advanced person would word that? I don't even know! I don't have to! I'm advanced bitches! I also connected it to my FB but that was more of an "oh, what's this, yeah I'll totally do that, whoa facebook cool" moment. Oh yeah, also, it's white. And we all know how I feel about that.
Anyway, it might pain me to lose my incredibly awesome irresponsible uncaring silence, but I really like what this little machine is offering me. Technology is so rad I can hardly stand it.
P.S. Not sure why I am such a huge fan of the equals symbol tonight but I am working that shit in like no tomorrow. I'd try to explain it but I don't think anyone but the advanced users would get it.
Yeah yeah, ha ha, super funny, go you. Oh wait. I never mentioned the washed phone here, did I? Huh. It made me wild because I don't normally do things like that with my electronics and attempt to take decent care of them. I just don't lose or break that stuff and haven't in an while. Well. Er. Heh. Oh, what can I say? It was a good run while it lasted.
It went something like this: I was getting my laundry together when I decided I also wanted to wash the sweatshirt that was currently on my body. I emptied the pockets (which included my phone) onto the dining room table. I then heard my message tone and since I had been in the middle of a text session with someone and have the focus of a ferret, I picked the phone back up before I took off the sweatshirt. You see where this is going right? Phone back in pocket, sweatshirt into washer, communication to the outside world gone like yesterday albeit a super squeaky clean phone. I tried the rice trick to no avail. I wanted to be all boo, I hate this missing phone thing and don't get me wrong, I was a little panicky when driving a distance from home at first but then... the silence. The no phone = no responsibility sweet silence. And I started taking it all in. I leave the house and shhhh... that's right... I'm an owl on the wings of the darkest night. And I got into it big time, until someone went all snark snark. And yes, try not to faint, I cared enough to do something about it. Commence phone shopping. Which is the entire point of this long drawn out totally unnecessary lead in.
At the phone store I put my busted ass phone on the counter and tell my unlucky victim of the day that I need a new one and I want the purple one. Yes, that was the only thing I cared about at that time, excuse me for being a light sensitive idiot and going ga ga over the color purple. The color, not the movie. That movie is just plain awful. So yeah, there I was all omg, I love the purple one btw so like can I have that one please mr salesman sir? He looked surprised and told me that's not the one I want. I then had him explain crackberries to me in every single minute detail. Mostly because it makes me laugh, a little because he's arguing with me out loud instead of keeping it in his head and a surd I'm not the phone expert, he is = that'll learn him. But didn't he come back with "you won't enjoy that phone, it's for beginners" and even though I guffawed at the absurdity of that statement, he bravely went on to explain that I am in the advanced user category of blackberry users. That's right, I'm advanced. As much as it's one of the funniest things I have heard in a while, and I now feel I have the right to mock the people who are so clearly beginners (whatever that means! It's awesome! Try it, you'll love it!), I will say that this phone is super duper amounts of fun so I'm keeping it. I even went so far as to connect my email through it. Is that how an advanced person would word that? I don't even know! I don't have to! I'm advanced bitches! I also connected it to my FB but that was more of an "oh, what's this, yeah I'll totally do that, whoa facebook cool" moment. Oh yeah, also, it's white. And we all know how I feel about that.
Anyway, it might pain me to lose my incredibly awesome irresponsible uncaring silence, but I really like what this little machine is offering me. Technology is so rad I can hardly stand it.
P.S. Not sure why I am such a huge fan of the equals symbol tonight but I am working that shit in like no tomorrow. I'd try to explain it but I don't think anyone but the advanced users would get it.
Don't let one little fall get you down.
Today was really exciting in the you won't really get it but that's cool because I really really get it and I hope you can just celebrate along with me sense. An amped up Soft Coated Wheaton Terrier came into work today and I seriously thought I was going to meet my Saturday surprise match. He came in scrambling about at the end of his leash like a maniac on methamphetamines while pissing all over the place. Not the scared type of pissing. No no, that would have been to easy. It was the totally intact male, totally insane with a dash of passive resistance that had the likely potential of turning into aggressive defensiveness if handled with anything but delight and laughter. As I live for that type, I stepped up to plate and kept my eye on the... er... ball. Hmm. Not exactly where I was trying to go with that...
His owners were awesome. Each one was saying something that was the exact opposite of what the other was saying except for the part where (and hold onto your hats, this is where it gets super duper exciting) they agreed that they wanted a traditional Wheaton head. Now I know this probably means little to nothing to you but (in my personal whacky and wild world of dog grooming) having the owner of a terrier say they want a traditional face makes me go all celebration mode in my head. Confetti. Cheering. Balloons. Parades. Thrown candy. The works. It makes getting out of bed that morning totally 100% worth it. The rest of the information was kind of a mess but I am the master of breaking grooming instruction code. I know precisely what things like short but not to short, very short but not shaved, don't cut the hair but give a light trim and circle square head mean. Now the husband kept saying they like the coat long and full while the wife proclaimed she wanted a style she could easily maintain because brushing the dog was rather difficult. These things do not coincide no matter how many times you say them together or how many times you smile while saying them. Now I know mister man is at work all day while little miss is at home in a WWF brushing match so I went with the traditional Wheaton cut only very tight and short because I know the man is trying to say he likes the look of the Wheaton while she is trying to say please don't make me attempt to keep this dog brushed out even though I also enjoy the look he is supposed to wear. Pair that with a bad ass looking dog and a vision of me clutching my scissors/clippers and I positively swoon.
I got a before picture of his head and body. Since the dog was such a strung out ADD nutcase (I'm not judging here, I can totally relate) I only got an after picture of his head. He just wanted off the table and I couldn't blame him one bit so I totally flaked out on the entirely finished product. But here's the shots I got of his head. And let me tell you folks, that is a fantastic Wheaton head. See the hair that stays long in the middle of his forehead? That's called a fall. Most Wheaton people want that gone so the dog has a more teddy bear like expression. Both are cute, but the fall... oh the fall... is what does it for me. But then judging from my past, we already knew that, didn't we? ;)
Here he is in all his untouched glory. There is no full body after picture but I assure you, it looks so pissa.
Before magical scissor land
In magical scissor land
After magical scissor land
His owners were awesome. Each one was saying something that was the exact opposite of what the other was saying except for the part where (and hold onto your hats, this is where it gets super duper exciting) they agreed that they wanted a traditional Wheaton head. Now I know this probably means little to nothing to you but (in my personal whacky and wild world of dog grooming) having the owner of a terrier say they want a traditional face makes me go all celebration mode in my head. Confetti. Cheering. Balloons. Parades. Thrown candy. The works. It makes getting out of bed that morning totally 100% worth it. The rest of the information was kind of a mess but I am the master of breaking grooming instruction code. I know precisely what things like short but not to short, very short but not shaved, don't cut the hair but give a light trim and circle square head mean. Now the husband kept saying they like the coat long and full while the wife proclaimed she wanted a style she could easily maintain because brushing the dog was rather difficult. These things do not coincide no matter how many times you say them together or how many times you smile while saying them. Now I know mister man is at work all day while little miss is at home in a WWF brushing match so I went with the traditional Wheaton cut only very tight and short because I know the man is trying to say he likes the look of the Wheaton while she is trying to say please don't make me attempt to keep this dog brushed out even though I also enjoy the look he is supposed to wear. Pair that with a bad ass looking dog and a vision of me clutching my scissors/clippers and I positively swoon.
I got a before picture of his head and body. Since the dog was such a strung out ADD nutcase (I'm not judging here, I can totally relate) I only got an after picture of his head. He just wanted off the table and I couldn't blame him one bit so I totally flaked out on the entirely finished product. But here's the shots I got of his head. And let me tell you folks, that is a fantastic Wheaton head. See the hair that stays long in the middle of his forehead? That's called a fall. Most Wheaton people want that gone so the dog has a more teddy bear like expression. Both are cute, but the fall... oh the fall... is what does it for me. But then judging from my past, we already knew that, didn't we? ;)
Monday, December 6, 2010
No, seriously, where is the rewind button on this thing?
Can we back the story up a bit? Remember the Rottweiler named Raina? I would totally make that a link but I think we are talking about 3 or 4 entries back here. No seriously, Just scroll down or something.
The Raina session took off with a bang, hit that climatic scream, then trickled down an enormous amount until everyone was an emotional puddle who didn't think they could take any more and it ended up with her here for two nights only. The owner of Raina took her back because it was pretty clear she didn't belong here and didn't like the shit show it was turned into. I couldn't have agreed more as I had already cried my eyes out in a hysterical manner while screaming something about I am sick of doing this, I don't care what happens. Doing any more of that clearly wasn't an option for me personally anyway. I think I was the only one laughing hysterically at the indian giving point (as my mania was in full swing), but it had gone way past the point of ridiculous and I wanted off that ride immediately.
It was then that I was reminded for about the 100th time and remembered quite clearly... I don't do this type of thing. I am like little miss not heavy up in here. The last time someone lost it over something, I quite literally stopped them in the middle of their freakout fest and offered them a chip. Those chips were seriously to die for and as much as I knew it was not what I should do per se, it was getting super dark and ominous and I just couldn't hang you know? They were caught off guard but took the proffered chip and then we both laughed because, damn, those chips were good and what an asshole thing to do to someone. ha ha ha. But this is my thing man. This is how I roll and it's really what makes me me. I just don't do heavy shit. I try as hard as I can to avoid my own heavy shit and when I can't, I mostly run from it or handle it in a super hyped up abnormally anxious manner. I am the girl who laughs her way through life as much as possible. I have been doing an exceptional job of it so far with the occasional super sad moment and I am easy to cry lately but those are expected, no? So why would I suddenly break character over a dogs life? I am the crazy dog lady, but even with that backing me I couldn't answer why that would break me and decided to cut that shit out and go back to being the chick who says things like "Hey, want to check out MegaMind 3D soon?" or "Want a chip?" when broached with heavy subject matter. And honestly, if I try to be any other way, I don't know the next step anyway and end up becoming a basket case. I don't need any honing in that area. Promise.
The moral of this story is don't hand your homeless dog off to people who don't know how to communicate. It will fail for your dog and ultimately you. So just keep your dog and take care of it. It's all your fault anyway. Handle that shit.
The Raina session took off with a bang, hit that climatic scream, then trickled down an enormous amount until everyone was an emotional puddle who didn't think they could take any more and it ended up with her here for two nights only. The owner of Raina took her back because it was pretty clear she didn't belong here and didn't like the shit show it was turned into. I couldn't have agreed more as I had already cried my eyes out in a hysterical manner while screaming something about I am sick of doing this, I don't care what happens. Doing any more of that clearly wasn't an option for me personally anyway. I think I was the only one laughing hysterically at the indian giving point (as my mania was in full swing), but it had gone way past the point of ridiculous and I wanted off that ride immediately.
It was then that I was reminded for about the 100th time and remembered quite clearly... I don't do this type of thing. I am like little miss not heavy up in here. The last time someone lost it over something, I quite literally stopped them in the middle of their freakout fest and offered them a chip. Those chips were seriously to die for and as much as I knew it was not what I should do per se, it was getting super dark and ominous and I just couldn't hang you know? They were caught off guard but took the proffered chip and then we both laughed because, damn, those chips were good and what an asshole thing to do to someone. ha ha ha. But this is my thing man. This is how I roll and it's really what makes me me. I just don't do heavy shit. I try as hard as I can to avoid my own heavy shit and when I can't, I mostly run from it or handle it in a super hyped up abnormally anxious manner. I am the girl who laughs her way through life as much as possible. I have been doing an exceptional job of it so far with the occasional super sad moment and I am easy to cry lately but those are expected, no? So why would I suddenly break character over a dogs life? I am the crazy dog lady, but even with that backing me I couldn't answer why that would break me and decided to cut that shit out and go back to being the chick who says things like "Hey, want to check out MegaMind 3D soon?" or "Want a chip?" when broached with heavy subject matter. And honestly, if I try to be any other way, I don't know the next step anyway and end up becoming a basket case. I don't need any honing in that area. Promise.
The moral of this story is don't hand your homeless dog off to people who don't know how to communicate. It will fail for your dog and ultimately you. So just keep your dog and take care of it. It's all your fault anyway. Handle that shit.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
You are officially UNfriended! Um, hello? I defriended you! Hello??
It happened. I was unfriended by someone on FB. It was bound to come about sooner or later but I never thought it would be the person who did it. I always thought my cousin whom I constantly shred into little tiny pieces would be first. Don't get all defensive for the little prick. He goes all ebonics and I don't know what else to do than be my own snark snark self towards it. I mean come on. Ever seen a rocket scientist with that shit coming out of their mouth? No. Know why? Because it's stupid, and stupid people get stupid people jobs, and that list does not include anything in regards to rocket ships or the science thereof. Well maybe if it's mopping the floor in the offices of the people who come up with the equations that have to do with rocket science. Maybe then. There. Happy? I know, I know, I'm being judgmental and trite. Again.
Reigning it in here...
So I went to dinner with the MF the other evening and I am informed I had been defriended by someone on facebook. Am I supposed to notice this stuff? Does anyone really notice this stuff? Well I didn't, and sadly someone else had to bring it to my attention like 3 months later and put me on the course to putting this kind of crap into my brain for consideration. So of course I attempt to brush it off but then I get all freaked out because judging by them, it's something you kind of freak out about. I ask what it means and I find out it usually means you have done something wrong. Oh yay. Yet one more thing to tell me about my unabated wrongness. I can't think of anything I have done wrong per se andmy innately curious nature takes over being the incredibly caring person I always am, I contact said defriender and say I see they defriended me and now know I should ask what I did wrong. I get the "what the hell, that was like 3 months ago why are you just now noticing and btw, you made odd comments and they annoyed me a little" message back. I reply that I'm sorry, I just don't take this facebook thing as seriously as most other people and I'm here now and omg isn't that what I fucking do have we met? and I figured if people were annoyed they would call me or tell me the next time they saw me or something, anything that signaled towards their distress with me as a person and the relationship that was straining because of it. Then I said I agreed I should remain the unfriendee as I don't want anyone anything but comfortable and happy which I am now told is like saying fuck you die which in turn surprises me less than I thought it should and that's pretty neat.
Is this shit for real? That's all I could think while taking part. Like someone else had taken over my body and was going through the motions of handling my soured internet relationship. This is surreal x infinity and as much as I can't believe I am thinking about it, I just can't stop thinking about it. It's mindfuckerific. It's a virtual relationship gone wrong because someone acted just like they always do in the real world and nothing was done about it except for what is really the exact opposite of good relationship skills because that's how shit is taken care of in virtual world.
I think the next time I see her, which should be in a couple days and this is why I am all huh? I have seen her since then and there was not one mention of anything and everyone acted just like they always do and I am so confused, seriously. So yeah, the next time I see her I am going to tell her that I would like to only have a virtual relationship with her because the real relationship is just way to confusing. I'm thinking a nice virtual meeting at the local virtual coffee shop where we can tell each other virtually nothing of importance and just pretend we are not virtually nonexistent friends but say we are just because. And we'll giggle. But not really. Wait. Shit. Is that going to seem like an odd comment? Am I mixing worlds? If I do will the virtual police come and give me a virtual citation for breaking the virtual code of ethics? If this happens do I run the risk of actual defriending? Omfg, please make it stop. Please. Uncle.
Reigning it in here...
So I went to dinner with the MF the other evening and I am informed I had been defriended by someone on facebook. Am I supposed to notice this stuff? Does anyone really notice this stuff? Well I didn't, and sadly someone else had to bring it to my attention like 3 months later and put me on the course to putting this kind of crap into my brain for consideration. So of course I attempt to brush it off but then I get all freaked out because judging by them, it's something you kind of freak out about. I ask what it means and I find out it usually means you have done something wrong. Oh yay. Yet one more thing to tell me about my unabated wrongness. I can't think of anything I have done wrong per se and
Is this shit for real? That's all I could think while taking part. Like someone else had taken over my body and was going through the motions of handling my soured internet relationship. This is surreal x infinity and as much as I can't believe I am thinking about it, I just can't stop thinking about it. It's mindfuckerific. It's a virtual relationship gone wrong because someone acted just like they always do in the real world and nothing was done about it except for what is really the exact opposite of good relationship skills because that's how shit is taken care of in virtual world.
I think the next time I see her, which should be in a couple days and this is why I am all huh? I have seen her since then and there was not one mention of anything and everyone acted just like they always do and I am so confused, seriously. So yeah, the next time I see her I am going to tell her that I would like to only have a virtual relationship with her because the real relationship is just way to confusing. I'm thinking a nice virtual meeting at the local virtual coffee shop where we can tell each other virtually nothing of importance and just pretend we are not virtually nonexistent friends but say we are just because. And we'll giggle. But not really. Wait. Shit. Is that going to seem like an odd comment? Am I mixing worlds? If I do will the virtual police come and give me a virtual citation for breaking the virtual code of ethics? If this happens do I run the risk of actual defriending? Omfg, please make it stop. Please. Uncle.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Frosty the Freak Man
I know I run the risk of sounding like a big huge cranky pants with this hot on the heels of my church frenzy, but I like to live on the edge and take chances. Also, I am having my monthly healthy functioning female session which always tips the madness scale. That being said, a huge cranky pants really isn't that far off the mark. You just kick back and enjoy yourself while I froth at the mouth and long for a good solid piece of mahogany or oak that would look so much better on the adjacent wall.
I usually try to avoid watching television and if you know me, you have a good idea why. I simply can't handle television (and some movies and the occasional radio commercial or show). It sends me into fits unless it's some kind of fictional braincrack show. The television has been on a lot lately as it's getting cold and that makes people wander in it's direction. I usually happen to be hanging out in the living room doing who knows what when the screen begins it's kill Joy's brain death glow and of course I am immediately sucked right in. My ferret brain will always be drawn to shiny/flashing things. I also have the tendency to give myself way to much credit in this one area and be all oh stop it and just grow up, you can totally handle it this time. This is one of the reasons you won't find a working television in my home when I live alone. ha.
The Christmas holiday commercials are starting up and once again they are making me really unsettled. There is nothing typical when regarding any of this shit. The subliminal messages that come with Christmas overwhelm me. I cannot believe we go so far as to deceive our children with it. I stay as far away from shopping centers and even try to drive as little as possible because people go completely mental with the idea that if they move faster and more aggressively, they'll get more done instead of putting the rest of us off and look like a complete a-hole. But it's an infection that you can't just wrap up and go to wrestling anyway. Wrapping up psychosis is simply not a reality. Just ask the patients in Ward D. Here at the Pearl we have signed off the Christmas fever. I am fully willing to admit it's probably because we can barely handle the every day dementia up in here and the idea of a scheduled meeting brings us to our knees. We stopped giving gifts a couple of years ago after my bro went a little nutshit about the process and we bought it hook line and sinker. We now have what is essentially a toned down Thanksgiving. This year everyone was talking about what to do and I jumped in with "I'll get the cake" and of course I got the why a cake look so I told them it was going to read "Happy Birthday Jesus!" on it. Oh the looks! Oh the judgement! Which if you think about it, that's a mind fuck and a half. But I'm really going for it and I am getting at this place in Brookline which makes the most awesome cake you could imagine. I'd get him a gift certificate for Target or something but I have no idea what his address is. Maybe I should still get it for him and then help him spend it? Ha.
I remember being a small child who was completely horrified of the idea of Santa Clause. To me he was just some fat strange guy who dressed in a bizarre red suit and wanted to meet little boys and girls and have them sit on his lap (while his industrious 24 hour sweat shop full of little hostages was run by his enabling and equally captive wife). Then after creeping them all year and learning their habits he stealthily entered their homes to treat them accordingly. No seriously, that's some fucked up shit. Now every other day of the year that is a stranger danger stalker pedophile doing a B&E. I would always enquire how he gets into the house and when we lived in an apartment I pulled a total nutter because we didn't have a chimney and some adult guessed out loud that he had a master key to the building. You know how everyone thinks it's so cute that the kids look all tired from waiting up for Santa all night hoping to catch him? Yeah, my mother never thought it was cute with me because she knew I stayed up out of pure terror. You should see the one picture they have of me and santa in the same picture. Santa is a little red speck behind me sobbing hysterically in someone's arms. And you know what? I don't look back and go all my goodness I really should have pulled it together. I was right. Christmas is no less bizarre than that sick fuck who collects kids teeth and gets away with it by giving them money like we all have a price and they know it. Sick sick sick. I don't care what anyone says, I was way ahead of my time and all I needed was a little less holiday fear and a little more sedatives. So really, not much has changed.
Oh hey. Speaking of horrid (or totally and irrevocably awesome) filming, have you seen The Room? It's a mind bending fabulous catastrophe. Like the best car accident you have ever witnessed because there is no looking away no matter how many heads roll out of the carnage. You don't have to believe me on this one, but you could give it a try and after that, never question things like this again.
I usually try to avoid watching television and if you know me, you have a good idea why. I simply can't handle television (and some movies and the occasional radio commercial or show). It sends me into fits unless it's some kind of fictional braincrack show. The television has been on a lot lately as it's getting cold and that makes people wander in it's direction. I usually happen to be hanging out in the living room doing who knows what when the screen begins it's kill Joy's brain death glow and of course I am immediately sucked right in. My ferret brain will always be drawn to shiny/flashing things. I also have the tendency to give myself way to much credit in this one area and be all oh stop it and just grow up, you can totally handle it this time. This is one of the reasons you won't find a working television in my home when I live alone. ha.
The Christmas holiday commercials are starting up and once again they are making me really unsettled. There is nothing typical when regarding any of this shit. The subliminal messages that come with Christmas overwhelm me. I cannot believe we go so far as to deceive our children with it. I stay as far away from shopping centers and even try to drive as little as possible because people go completely mental with the idea that if they move faster and more aggressively, they'll get more done instead of putting the rest of us off and look like a complete a-hole. But it's an infection that you can't just wrap up and go to wrestling anyway. Wrapping up psychosis is simply not a reality. Just ask the patients in Ward D. Here at the Pearl we have signed off the Christmas fever. I am fully willing to admit it's probably because we can barely handle the every day dementia up in here and the idea of a scheduled meeting brings us to our knees. We stopped giving gifts a couple of years ago after my bro went a little nutshit about the process and we bought it hook line and sinker. We now have what is essentially a toned down Thanksgiving. This year everyone was talking about what to do and I jumped in with "I'll get the cake" and of course I got the why a cake look so I told them it was going to read "Happy Birthday Jesus!" on it. Oh the looks! Oh the judgement! Which if you think about it, that's a mind fuck and a half. But I'm really going for it and I am getting at this place in Brookline which makes the most awesome cake you could imagine. I'd get him a gift certificate for Target or something but I have no idea what his address is. Maybe I should still get it for him and then help him spend it? Ha.
I remember being a small child who was completely horrified of the idea of Santa Clause. To me he was just some fat strange guy who dressed in a bizarre red suit and wanted to meet little boys and girls and have them sit on his lap (while his industrious 24 hour sweat shop full of little hostages was run by his enabling and equally captive wife). Then after creeping them all year and learning their habits he stealthily entered their homes to treat them accordingly. No seriously, that's some fucked up shit. Now every other day of the year that is a stranger danger stalker pedophile doing a B&E. I would always enquire how he gets into the house and when we lived in an apartment I pulled a total nutter because we didn't have a chimney and some adult guessed out loud that he had a master key to the building. You know how everyone thinks it's so cute that the kids look all tired from waiting up for Santa all night hoping to catch him? Yeah, my mother never thought it was cute with me because she knew I stayed up out of pure terror. You should see the one picture they have of me and santa in the same picture. Santa is a little red speck behind me sobbing hysterically in someone's arms. And you know what? I don't look back and go all my goodness I really should have pulled it together. I was right. Christmas is no less bizarre than that sick fuck who collects kids teeth and gets away with it by giving them money like we all have a price and they know it. Sick sick sick. I don't care what anyone says, I was way ahead of my time and all I needed was a little less holiday fear and a little more sedatives. So really, not much has changed.
Oh hey. Speaking of horrid (or totally and irrevocably awesome) filming, have you seen The Room? It's a mind bending fabulous catastrophe. Like the best car accident you have ever witnessed because there is no looking away no matter how many heads roll out of the carnage. You don't have to believe me on this one, but you could give it a try and after that, never question things like this again.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Like a weekly kick start... right in the teeth
By the end of the week I'm right where I need to be and I am feeling good about shit and lately I then go to church and leave confused and all kinds of angry about the double standards and contradictions. And if I ask questions, I get these empty answers backed by a big peaceful smile which is supposed to remind me of how important faith is. I'm not saying I don't have faith, I'm saying I have questions. A lot of them. So far I have it's okay for God to do things but if you do, you're a super lousy person taking advantage of free will, unlike Jesus but COME ON like if he said he'd go ahead and pass on saving man kind and just ran around fucking hot chicks and drinking he wouldn't legitimately be THE biggest a-hole on the fucking planet. Ever. Biggest a-hole on the planet EVER. Is there anyone who would refuse that? And once you take on the job, isn't temptation pretty easy to overcome? YOU ARE SAVING MAN KIND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! FOCUS! Yeah, I don't know. Just saying.
Did I tell you about the time my mom was feeling bad for a friend who has "lost his way" because he does some weird chanting thing in some temple or whatever? And she jokes about "tell him not to drink the punch ha ha ha" and then we go through the front door of the church and that was communion day? I of course was all "hey, you want to talk about ironic?" (while being sad that I miscounted the days and was present for the whole thing damn it) and she was shocked and a little upset that I made a punch joke on communion day. I don't partake in communion. It makes me think about cannibalism and that freaks me out. I don't want to drink blood or eat flesh. I just don't.
The good news is that I am not living in my own place right now so having someone find me moving all the furniture around while crying my eyes out and screaming about being a bad person is something I can avoid. But then what do I do with all this pent up frustration? I need to find a place I suppose, but until then I am just going to sit around and feel rancid until I convince myself that feeling rancid is silly. Oh, I am also going to keep reading my letting go book because that is one sweet feel good book. I'm starting to think I should avoid church not only on communion day but also while I am having my rag. I don't want to be a bad person, I really don't. And I don't know how to go about that while going to church. I really don't. Then again, I know that the Bible constantly goes on about, don't worry so much just believe and prosper. Now I have pretty much laughed my life away without a care in the world all the while knowing I am a good person. Interesting how now that I am hanging with a bunch of diehard Christians I'm not only anxiety ridden about the future but also concerned for the state of my soul and not so convinced I am a good person. What the hell is going on here? Omg, to have some furniture to move around. You have no idea.
Did I tell you about the time my mom was feeling bad for a friend who has "lost his way" because he does some weird chanting thing in some temple or whatever? And she jokes about "tell him not to drink the punch ha ha ha" and then we go through the front door of the church and that was communion day? I of course was all "hey, you want to talk about ironic?" (while being sad that I miscounted the days and was present for the whole thing damn it) and she was shocked and a little upset that I made a punch joke on communion day. I don't partake in communion. It makes me think about cannibalism and that freaks me out. I don't want to drink blood or eat flesh. I just don't.
The good news is that I am not living in my own place right now so having someone find me moving all the furniture around while crying my eyes out and screaming about being a bad person is something I can avoid. But then what do I do with all this pent up frustration? I need to find a place I suppose, but until then I am just going to sit around and feel rancid until I convince myself that feeling rancid is silly. Oh, I am also going to keep reading my letting go book because that is one sweet feel good book. I'm starting to think I should avoid church not only on communion day but also while I am having my rag. I don't want to be a bad person, I really don't. And I don't know how to go about that while going to church. I really don't. Then again, I know that the Bible constantly goes on about, don't worry so much just believe and prosper. Now I have pretty much laughed my life away without a care in the world all the while knowing I am a good person. Interesting how now that I am hanging with a bunch of diehard Christians I'm not only anxiety ridden about the future but also concerned for the state of my soul and not so convinced I am a good person. What the hell is going on here? Omg, to have some furniture to move around. You have no idea.
Monday, November 15, 2010
She'll be a pro in no time!!
I had to run up to Boston to pick up signs and decided to bring Tabitha with me while leaving The James behind. I was sure to try to subdue the guilt of abandoning Jimmy by proclaiming that Tab was coming along mostly because "she needs more experience". Next thing you know I change lanes, hit a massive pothole, blow out my tire and that leads to us standing on the side of the dark and very noisy highway and then riding home in a tow truck.
How's that for life experience?
How's that for life experience?
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The hair of the dog...
Today was a pretty awesome day. Just busy enough that I kept moving but it didn't have that laced with hysteria feel that Saturday's often bring. I also remembered to take before and after pictures. I keep wanting to start a little portfolio of the dogs I do so people can see my work. This isn't the best haircut and he was a tough one to get a good shot of, but the difference is radical enough that I thought it worth it.
BEFORE:
AFTER:
BEFORE:
AFTER:
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Back to me.
I was visiting with the MF last night and my dating site issues came up in conversation. Being someone who takes advantage of online dating, he got super curious and wanted to see my profile. Ever the cooperative soul, I reactivated my account. The good news is, I do a great job of representing myself from one male perspective. The bad news is now that the profile is back up, I have to leave it up for a week. I thought of a way to make this good news for everyone:
I don't know how to do a search to find my profile and I'm not going to give everyone my account name and password. It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't trust you. Heh. If you want to try and find me, my profile name is ohrats9 (figures right?) and it's the site okcupid. Go from there. If you dare. Besides, it would be fun for me to know how I am perceived online by a couple different people. I love shit like this. Finally, something that makes me curious enough to put myself out there. How exciting.
SIDE NOTE: It was brought to my attention that reading the questions and knowing me makes it hard to decipher how one who didn't know me would take the answers into account. So if you know someone who I don't know and they want to read my profile and then meet me to see how much it matches me, I am totally in. As long as they are the brutally honest type. I'm not saying try to find me a date here, quite the contrary. I'm looking at this from a totally scientific standpoint.
I don't know how to do a search to find my profile and I'm not going to give everyone my account name and password. It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't trust you. Heh. If you want to try and find me, my profile name is ohrats9 (figures right?) and it's the site okcupid. Go from there. If you dare. Besides, it would be fun for me to know how I am perceived online by a couple different people. I love shit like this. Finally, something that makes me curious enough to put myself out there. How exciting.
SIDE NOTE: It was brought to my attention that reading the questions and knowing me makes it hard to decipher how one who didn't know me would take the answers into account. So if you know someone who I don't know and they want to read my profile and then meet me to see how much it matches me, I am totally in. As long as they are the brutally honest type. I'm not saying try to find me a date here, quite the contrary. I'm looking at this from a totally scientific standpoint.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Decision making at its best... or worst. Whatever.
Here at the Pearl we as a group pride ourselves on our incredible ability to avoid making decisions or doing anything that will help someone else make a decision that can somehow come back to haunt us. Unless of course it's by way of saying something like, "what could possibly go wrong?" and we sum that up to support and optimism. I can tell you from personal experience that not many people have the balls to throw that type of shit back in your face which is pretty sweet. Anyway, we are masters of never getting locked into anything to serious. We'd much rather bury ourselves in things that don't get us anywhere and cannot be controlled or mastered. Due to this incredibly well oiled yet fragmented machine we stay out of quite a bit of trouble and you really can't beat that. Yesterday, the machine went in for a tune up or lost some gears or something and we had to make a decision based upon someone else's total unreliability. Man, that one got us. You put our need to keep an arms length distance up against someone else being even less consistent and BOOM we are now the proud owners of Raina the Rottweiler. I'm not saying she isn't one of the coolest dogs ever, because she is and everything is going to work out fine because if it wasn't, we never would have taken her but jeez louise, who sees things like this coming?
Did I get that one right? Have I misrepresented myself?
As a defensive maneuver, I would like to point out that as individuals we can handle just about anything you throw at us and we are super reliable. Okay, most of us. Fine, half. But that half is like so there it actually makes up for the other half and somehow even keeps them smelling like a summer breeze. A summer breeze right after it rained. But the reliable half totally brought in the clothes outside on the line so nothing got ruined and it just smells like a summer breeze after the rain, not summer breeze after the rain with a splash of disappointment. Wait, is that the definition of enabling? Okay, the reliable half totally advised the other half to get the clothing without getting it themselves, so it's a summer breeze after the rain with a splash of dependability and a sprinkling of encouragement on top of positive reinforcement. Because we all had ice cream to celebrate the clothes staying dry, while waiting for the storm to pass. Well, to be honest, we probably would have had the ice cream regardless. Ice cream is good man!
Did I get that one right? Have I misrepresented myself?
As a defensive maneuver, I would like to point out that as individuals we can handle just about anything you throw at us and we are super reliable. Okay, most of us. Fine, half. But that half is like so there it actually makes up for the other half and somehow even keeps them smelling like a summer breeze. A summer breeze right after it rained. But the reliable half totally brought in the clothes outside on the line so nothing got ruined and it just smells like a summer breeze after the rain, not summer breeze after the rain with a splash of disappointment. Wait, is that the definition of enabling? Okay, the reliable half totally advised the other half to get the clothing without getting it themselves, so it's a summer breeze after the rain with a splash of dependability and a sprinkling of encouragement on top of positive reinforcement. Because we all had ice cream to celebrate the clothes staying dry, while waiting for the storm to pass. Well, to be honest, we probably would have had the ice cream regardless. Ice cream is good man!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Why you gotta be like that huh?
I recently went to see the facebook movie with my brother and a friend of ours. A couple of days later I was talking with my brother about the movie and it went something like this:
Me: Wasn't that part where the main character checks the math so funny?
Bro (staring at me with that you're so hopeless and frustrating exasperated face): Joy, you laughed through the entire movie.
Me (attempting to mollify with genuine innocence while trying to figure out why he is looking at me like that): It was a comedy!!
Bro: No. It wasn't.
I can't tell you how many movies I have gone to and laughed through just to later find out the parts I laughed over weren't even supposed to be funny. Like the time I heard, "Joy, they blew up earth. That is never supposed to be funny." But it was funny because the earth made a tiny little pop sound when it was destroyed and the idea of that still cracks me up. Also, it wasn't forever and I knew that because I read the book. AND, whatever, it was super funny. Sorry for living. So yeah, go see the facebook movie. It's a gas.
Due to my unending curiosity (and some close friends highly recommending it a while back), I gave internet dating a try. You never know right? Well, I know and I am so done with internet dating. It wasn't all bad, not even slightly. But the parts that were bad showed me I am more of face to face type person. The only thing I am left wondering is if I come across on here like I do everywhere else there is a glowing screen with my writing behind it. I can only assume so and it makes me a little concerned because I clearly do a completely shit ass job representing myself through wordage. I am so much better in person and I know this because the people who have gotten to know me in person stick with me, while the people I meet online sometimes end up sending me unpleasant and super insulting hate mail that reads like it's made for my heavy hitting, radical and forceful evil twin. Why am I met with such a different reaction in real life? Is it my facial expressions? My body language? Why do I come across like a totally different person when I fill out the little summary page and then answer a bunch of questions honestly and to the best of my ability? The first received venomous letter was so interesting because it was definitely to me but the accusations were for someone else. How weird is that? My beliefs, likes and interests came across but in a way I never imagined they would be perceived. I am so clearly sending out the wrong message here. The second one also came across like they believed me to be someone else. I'm not nearly as judgmental or domineering as it made me sound. Yeah, I can get worked up over shit but I usually end up laughing it all off anyway. I'm just not at all as serious as some of these messages implied. Fuck. I should have saved them and showed you what I mean. Oh, that would have been so helpful, wouldn't it have? No biggie, from now on I'm keeping it up front, in your face personal, real life shit because whoa am I giving people the wrong impression. Maybe my humor needs the actual smile? Am I like the only person ever to get seething hatred from a dating site? It's not often I get that level of animosity so I know I am doing something seriously wrong as when I am face to face with people, they seem to really enjoy my company. Even when they don't, it's never a hate thing, it's more a wtf I can't relate to you but I'll still hang out because you are fun type deal. Weird. I will say that anyone I have ever met from the net (guys and girls alike) was not meant as a dating thing so much as buying or selling something, showing them how to do something, them showing me how to do something or just hanging out because we were both bored. The meeting had no tense expectations and was set up right away which helped to cut all the wordy bullshit out of the picture, put us in motion and allowed me to move freely throughout the cabin. So yeah, online dating can be fun and really cool people can be met, but for a far more productive result I think I am going to continue meeting people the old fashioned way. That way I won't run the risk of representing myself poorly. Well, that's a stretch. At least when I do it face to face, I'll be able to immediately try and asses the damage, get it all wrong and ruin my chances way faster than if it were through an email while keeping their friendship. Cause that's more my style.
Me: Wasn't that part where the main character checks the math so funny?
Bro (staring at me with that you're so hopeless and frustrating exasperated face): Joy, you laughed through the entire movie.
Me (attempting to mollify with genuine innocence while trying to figure out why he is looking at me like that): It was a comedy!!
Bro: No. It wasn't.
I can't tell you how many movies I have gone to and laughed through just to later find out the parts I laughed over weren't even supposed to be funny. Like the time I heard, "Joy, they blew up earth. That is never supposed to be funny." But it was funny because the earth made a tiny little pop sound when it was destroyed and the idea of that still cracks me up. Also, it wasn't forever and I knew that because I read the book. AND, whatever, it was super funny. Sorry for living. So yeah, go see the facebook movie. It's a gas.
Due to my unending curiosity (and some close friends highly recommending it a while back), I gave internet dating a try. You never know right? Well, I know and I am so done with internet dating. It wasn't all bad, not even slightly. But the parts that were bad showed me I am more of face to face type person. The only thing I am left wondering is if I come across on here like I do everywhere else there is a glowing screen with my writing behind it. I can only assume so and it makes me a little concerned because I clearly do a completely shit ass job representing myself through wordage. I am so much better in person and I know this because the people who have gotten to know me in person stick with me, while the people I meet online sometimes end up sending me unpleasant and super insulting hate mail that reads like it's made for my heavy hitting, radical and forceful evil twin. Why am I met with such a different reaction in real life? Is it my facial expressions? My body language? Why do I come across like a totally different person when I fill out the little summary page and then answer a bunch of questions honestly and to the best of my ability? The first received venomous letter was so interesting because it was definitely to me but the accusations were for someone else. How weird is that? My beliefs, likes and interests came across but in a way I never imagined they would be perceived. I am so clearly sending out the wrong message here. The second one also came across like they believed me to be someone else. I'm not nearly as judgmental or domineering as it made me sound. Yeah, I can get worked up over shit but I usually end up laughing it all off anyway. I'm just not at all as serious as some of these messages implied. Fuck. I should have saved them and showed you what I mean. Oh, that would have been so helpful, wouldn't it have? No biggie, from now on I'm keeping it up front, in your face personal, real life shit because whoa am I giving people the wrong impression. Maybe my humor needs the actual smile? Am I like the only person ever to get seething hatred from a dating site? It's not often I get that level of animosity so I know I am doing something seriously wrong as when I am face to face with people, they seem to really enjoy my company. Even when they don't, it's never a hate thing, it's more a wtf I can't relate to you but I'll still hang out because you are fun type deal. Weird. I will say that anyone I have ever met from the net (guys and girls alike) was not meant as a dating thing so much as buying or selling something, showing them how to do something, them showing me how to do something or just hanging out because we were both bored. The meeting had no tense expectations and was set up right away which helped to cut all the wordy bullshit out of the picture, put us in motion and allowed me to move freely throughout the cabin. So yeah, online dating can be fun and really cool people can be met, but for a far more productive result I think I am going to continue meeting people the old fashioned way. That way I won't run the risk of representing myself poorly. Well, that's a stretch. At least when I do it face to face, I'll be able to immediately try and asses the damage, get it all wrong and ruin my chances way faster than if it were through an email while keeping their friendship. Cause that's more my style.
Friday, October 29, 2010
CAUTION: WILL KILL EVERYTHING IN THE ROOM UNLESS YOU RESTRAIN IT, SCREAM AT IT AND FORCE IT INTO SUBMISSION
Hours of time lost but a lifetime of information gained so whatever. Tonight I make all of the forms while saving the data. Look at me go. I am also going to start a fire. In the fireplace for once. Way I see it, a fire offers me just enough distraction that I can tinker around for small amounts of time without completely flaking out on the forms. If there were a Distraction Land, I would be the Queen and I would rule with an iron fist. Until something shinier came along.
I groomed a "very dangerous dog" who "needs a muzzle on the entire time". Poor old sheep dog rolled in tranqued out of her gourd and still showed signs of being very defensive. Not so defensive that she needed a muzzle for anything and certainly not so defensive that I would label her dangerous by any stretch of the imagination. Scared maybe. Worried. But not "very dangerous". I am not putting aside that she showed her teeth and bit the brush (gently while avoiding my hand and when teeth touched hand, she didn't put any pressure down and shifted uncomfortably after I made disappointed clucking noises) twice and she's big enough that I don't want to take a serious bite for any reason. I am also not ignoring the fact that she was sedated to a ridiculous degree. My hope is that I can get her so she is not growling, biting, stiffening or backing herself into corners while tranquilized and then do it with half the dosage and so forth and so on until she is no longer needing any type of meds to handle grooming. I'm psyched. The owner was also psyched and loved her hair cut. JH#1!
I groomed a "very dangerous dog" who "needs a muzzle on the entire time". Poor old sheep dog rolled in tranqued out of her gourd and still showed signs of being very defensive. Not so defensive that she needed a muzzle for anything and certainly not so defensive that I would label her dangerous by any stretch of the imagination. Scared maybe. Worried. But not "very dangerous". I am not putting aside that she showed her teeth and bit the brush (gently while avoiding my hand and when teeth touched hand, she didn't put any pressure down and shifted uncomfortably after I made disappointed clucking noises) twice and she's big enough that I don't want to take a serious bite for any reason. I am also not ignoring the fact that she was sedated to a ridiculous degree. My hope is that I can get her so she is not growling, biting, stiffening or backing herself into corners while tranquilized and then do it with half the dosage and so forth and so on until she is no longer needing any type of meds to handle grooming. I'm psyched. The owner was also psyched and loved her hair cut. JH#1!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Our website needs to be a little more user friendly...
I am making online forms. It's slow going and super fun. I love shit like this as it fulfills my need to tinker about at something until I master this. I'm about an hour in and it's awesome.
P.S. I should have just kept reading the rest of the chapter. I am totally okay with what it was trying to tell me now that I have the rest of the info in place. :F Whatever! I got tired! Sorry for living!
P.S. I should have just kept reading the rest of the chapter. I am totally okay with what it was trying to tell me now that I have the rest of the info in place. :F Whatever! I got tired! Sorry for living!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Just let it go already...
I was talking to a friend about some of my most recent life experiences and she starts really losing it over a book about letting go. She was so excited and animated while explaining the book that I caught the fever and ordered it up. It just got into fear and regrets which caused me to have a think tank moment and I seriously don't have regrets. It's a realization that always surprises me because I have done some seriously shitty things and had some very absurd moments (which probably, no definitely could have been avoided by just backing up a bit and looking at the big picture), but they have never put me into regret mode. I can't imagine looking back and regretting something, because with the way I work, I would have to regret it right from the very beginning. And I can't think of one single circumstance that I started knowing it would end up in a horrible fashion nor have I even begun something with malicious intent in mind. It's more my style to close my eyes and jump in after gaining some speed, and the crush of hitting cement freaks me out and hurts like hell but man, for a moment there, I really was flying and it was awesome while it happened. Is it the permanently rose colored glasses that stay plastered to my face? I know those keep me on a ship long after everyone has evacuated and it has sunk. And I know I can be very sticky about some subjects, going over it again and again, pulling it apart even after the pieces are microscopic and no one wants to talk about it anymore, but I don't think that is regret. Is it? Someone asked me the other day if I regretted the last couple experiences I have had and as much as they still bring me unbearable saddness, I don't regret them for a second. Countless wonderful things along with an abundance of knowledge came out of those same incidents. I can't even wrap my head around labeling any part of it regretful. Look at where I have been, what I have done and everyone I have met along the way. When I consider the immense good that came out of the bad, it blows me away and makes me warm with overflowing amounts of gratitude to have been present for even a fraction of those moments. Sure I bitched a bit and lost my way here and there along with made some seriously huge fucking mistakes but fuck it, I did it, it happened. And yeah, I had my little basketcase freakout sessions but eventually I figured out that crying over the spilled milk does not unspill the milk. I am psyched with who I am today, what I hold sacred and what my character amounts to. If I regret it now, I regret it then and where does that piece of me go? Who knows where anything is going to take us really? The future and what it holds is more imagination than anything else. To pretend I could have guessed this exact outcome is laughable at best. Isn't that what life is all about? Isn't it about giving fully and enjoying everything possible that you are surrounded by without smothering it with expectations? Sure, it's tough and sure I suck really bad at it sometimes but I forgive me for that as fast as I can. Otherwise my sadness might turn into regret or guilt and beating myself up is not something I plan to start doing any time soon. 
Regret seems more like beating yourself up for the past, which means you are fighting something which left the room. Just you swinging around in an empty ring. Why would I do that? So yeah, I am lousy at letting go. Who isn't? Who doesn't clutch the moments they savored the most that are lost forever? So am I lousy at letting go or am I not understanding the process of grieving? We all know how much I fucking hate processes so this would make a certain amount of sense wouldn't it? I don't know. I do know I'll beat a horse long after it died and was put underground. It's one of the biggest complaints I get and it is often confused for negativity but I know I just like to dissect things to see if there was something I missed. Why do I constantly feel like I am missing something? Oh, good one. Am I missing something or am I just refusing to see things like other people want me to see it or am I making it into something I want to see to avoid the truth of the matter? Maybe both. Maybe none. Maybe I am talking the wrong people or maybe I should talk about things less and that would be almost impossible for me. Hmm. Maybe I am just spending to much time psychoanalyzing myself and just need to chill the fuck out and be happy I don't have any regrets. Ha.
Regret seems more like beating yourself up for the past, which means you are fighting something which left the room. Just you swinging around in an empty ring. Why would I do that? So yeah, I am lousy at letting go. Who isn't? Who doesn't clutch the moments they savored the most that are lost forever? So am I lousy at letting go or am I not understanding the process of grieving? We all know how much I fucking hate processes so this would make a certain amount of sense wouldn't it? I don't know. I do know I'll beat a horse long after it died and was put underground. It's one of the biggest complaints I get and it is often confused for negativity but I know I just like to dissect things to see if there was something I missed. Why do I constantly feel like I am missing something? Oh, good one. Am I missing something or am I just refusing to see things like other people want me to see it or am I making it into something I want to see to avoid the truth of the matter? Maybe both. Maybe none. Maybe I am talking the wrong people or maybe I should talk about things less and that would be almost impossible for me. Hmm. Maybe I am just spending to much time psychoanalyzing myself and just need to chill the fuck out and be happy I don't have any regrets. Ha.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Picture this (w/ hairy addition)
I was sitting quietly while reflecting today (hard to imagine, I know) when I suddenly remembered why I was growing out my hair to begin with and immediately felt vacuous. I like my hair short. Remember the length back when I lived in AZ? I loved it and I'm cutting it again. Maybe not that short, but shorter than it is. It's gotten to that point where it's just dragging on the weight of itself and doesn't have any spring. Since I am clearly not going to do any actual styling any time soon, short is the way to go. My hair looks better not styled when it is short. Also, it's curly now. What the hell is that anyway? It used to be straight with maybe a little wave to it and now we are talking banana curls in some places. I don't get it, but I kind of like it. It keeps me looking one step from animal when there's a lot of humidity.
I keep thinking I should cut it myself since I was promised it's excellent therapy but I don't know if I could get that layered look I'm shooting for in the back. This isn't the flip your head over and hack type deal. Is that even a deal? As much as that was a fantastic way to add something like "noodles" to mud soup, I like to pretend I am past that phase in my life. If that's not some kind of red flag, I don't know what is. Maybe I should just wrap a bunch of caution tape around myself and go for it.
I updated my flickr account. Hence said reflection. It's as thrilling as it sounds.
With my camera broken I can only snap lasting memories with my mind and I am tinkering with the idea of finally getting a big girl camera. My Canon Powershot is an awesome little camera (when it works) and I will miss it. It was the kind of camera you can drag across the country without a care in the world and it served its purpose well. We had a good run but the lose pieces rattling around inside it don't sound so hot. I wish I was the kind of person that could take it apart and be all "ah ha" just to put it back into working order. I'm not though. Boo.
You'll know when and if I get another camera because I'll stop posting phone pictures every time. You love them as much as I do and you know it.
I keep thinking I should cut it myself since I was promised it's excellent therapy but I don't know if I could get that layered look I'm shooting for in the back. This isn't the flip your head over and hack type deal. Is that even a deal? As much as that was a fantastic way to add something like "noodles" to mud soup, I like to pretend I am past that phase in my life. If that's not some kind of red flag, I don't know what is. Maybe I should just wrap a bunch of caution tape around myself and go for it.
I updated my flickr account. Hence said reflection. It's as thrilling as it sounds.
With my camera broken I can only snap lasting memories with my mind and I am tinkering with the idea of finally getting a big girl camera. My Canon Powershot is an awesome little camera (when it works) and I will miss it. It was the kind of camera you can drag across the country without a care in the world and it served its purpose well. We had a good run but the lose pieces rattling around inside it don't sound so hot. I wish I was the kind of person that could take it apart and be all "ah ha" just to put it back into working order. I'm not though. Boo.
You'll know when and if I get another camera because I'll stop posting phone pictures every time. You love them as much as I do and you know it.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
What a hoot!
We have Great Horned owls calling to each other outside our home as I type this. I tried recording them but my phone kept picking up the noise of traffic more than the birds which is weird since I heard the owls through my glass slider. Damn low frequency. So instead, I found you this exact replica of what I am hearing. The perfect ending to a not so shabby day.
Speaking of, my day kicked some serious ass. I was given a substantial raise today because "D had no idea you were going to be as good as you are. She thinks you are a really great groomer, probably even better than J." D is my boss. J is the head groomer. I am the girl kicking dog hair ass with scissors and a smile. I have been working with the animals that "need two people" or are "hard to do" or simply have something ominous written on their card like "CAUTION" or "BITES". Needless to say, none of the dogs take two people, none are hard to do and the only time I felt even the slightest bit of caution was when other people started grabbing at the dog and fucking up my flow causing the dog to panic. These poor dogs. They don't bite. They don't even want to bite. They are just anticipating pain and then restraint and force when they try to say they hate what is happening. Perfect body language and nothing but straight up fear from being manhandled and told they are bad. Again, I hope hell is a personal type place where you get back every shitty thing you have ever done to another being. I get a little nervous about my own plight but it's not like I have ever forced anything or anyone into submission through measures that were brutish at best. It's just not necessary. I would go into the dogs and how it went (and why it went) but it would take a heavy lead in and have you looked at the time? Night night.
Speaking of, my day kicked some serious ass. I was given a substantial raise today because "D had no idea you were going to be as good as you are. She thinks you are a really great groomer, probably even better than J." D is my boss. J is the head groomer. I am the girl kicking dog hair ass with scissors and a smile. I have been working with the animals that "need two people" or are "hard to do" or simply have something ominous written on their card like "CAUTION" or "BITES". Needless to say, none of the dogs take two people, none are hard to do and the only time I felt even the slightest bit of caution was when other people started grabbing at the dog and fucking up my flow causing the dog to panic. These poor dogs. They don't bite. They don't even want to bite. They are just anticipating pain and then restraint and force when they try to say they hate what is happening. Perfect body language and nothing but straight up fear from being manhandled and told they are bad. Again, I hope hell is a personal type place where you get back every shitty thing you have ever done to another being. I get a little nervous about my own plight but it's not like I have ever forced anything or anyone into submission through measures that were brutish at best. It's just not necessary. I would go into the dogs and how it went (and why it went) but it would take a heavy lead in and have you looked at the time? Night night.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Plunder the women and rape the cows.
On my way to my pop-a-lop appointment I saw two Trojan Horse lawn decorations at two different locations. I don't know the people who put them up but I already don't trust them. Isn't the Trojan Horse the very personification of betrayal? Why would you place that in front of your home? Are they subliminally telling the world to sack their place? I doubted people are accepting of strange women coming out of nowhere questioning them aggressively (only because I would be late, not because I am angry mind you) about their lawn ornament choices while using words like "deception" and "plunder" so I drove on. And there was that small voice inside me telling me something could go horribly wrong and no matter how many times I think she needs to relax a little with the worrying and constant nagging, she's never wrong. The scheduled appointment made time tight anyway.
I took me a little dog filled jaunt at the bogs today and forgot to leave my phone in the car. Here's the benefit of forgetting. Nice. I love these top two. The first one can be flipped upside down and look like it is right side up. Reflection trips me out sometimes. I live for that cement block wall. I can't tell you how many summer days I have fallen asleep on it for hours.
Pet pictures. You knew they were coming so don't act surprised. It would seem the setting sun and I have something in common. We are both 100% at getting the J&T to take a rad picture. I simply adore the top one of the Tabster. Sepia without the sepia by Blackberry and the JH. Teamwork rules.
I remember a day when the James took a picture that was so bad ass it would take my breath away. He was the king of photo op and I have the pictures to prove it. These days I take what I can get and nothing else really matters than he's still here so I say fuck it and snap. Spoken like a true artist?
I took me a little dog filled jaunt at the bogs today and forgot to leave my phone in the car. Here's the benefit of forgetting. Nice. I love these top two. The first one can be flipped upside down and look like it is right side up. Reflection trips me out sometimes. I live for that cement block wall. I can't tell you how many summer days I have fallen asleep on it for hours.
Pet pictures. You knew they were coming so don't act surprised. It would seem the setting sun and I have something in common. We are both 100% at getting the J&T to take a rad picture. I simply adore the top one of the Tabster. Sepia without the sepia by Blackberry and the JH. Teamwork rules.
I remember a day when the James took a picture that was so bad ass it would take my breath away. He was the king of photo op and I have the pictures to prove it. These days I take what I can get and nothing else really matters than he's still here so I say fuck it and snap. Spoken like a true artist?
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Just in case you needed clarification
A note found on my dining room table:
Above it was a scribbled out number that added to the general awesomeness, but I am not sure who's number it is and thought plastering it on the net was in bad taste.
Above it was a scribbled out number that added to the general awesomeness, but I am not sure who's number it is and thought plastering it on the net was in bad taste.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Never explained, doesn't matter
I just ended my evening with the highly recommended movie The Road. I do not highly recommend ending a perfectly good evening with this movie. Holy shit. I also hear the book is better. Imagine that. So here goes my summary and hopefully it will purge this newly added crap from my mind so that I will be able to sleep.
People still suck for the most part and can't be trusted when everything goes to shit unless you have a loaded gun and a fire within. People who keep their root cellar full of other people are not the good guys. People who don't eat dogs are good guys. Old dudes are always just old dudes. That never changes. Black people are better off stripped down to nothing as long as you feel bad after and give it all back just to show that you're not one of the bad guys. Helpless defeatist attitude bitches ruin everything, every time. When the world hits full throttle catastrophe, charge it south.
Good times.
People still suck for the most part and can't be trusted when everything goes to shit unless you have a loaded gun and a fire within. People who keep their root cellar full of other people are not the good guys. People who don't eat dogs are good guys. Old dudes are always just old dudes. That never changes. Black people are better off stripped down to nothing as long as you feel bad after and give it all back just to show that you're not one of the bad guys. Helpless defeatist attitude bitches ruin everything, every time. When the world hits full throttle catastrophe, charge it south.
Good times.
What's going down
After washing a dog, we perform what is known as force drying directly after the bath but before putting the dog into a cage dryer. It is called that because a dryer which produces forced hot air (really really fast air) is used to get the extra water off the dog and just generally breaks the hair up nicely making the dog dry faster. It's also used to get out the shedding undercoat and such like that. The girl who bathes and runs the front with us refers to this as "blowing".
Example: I'm going to go ahead and blow this dog now OR I'll be over here blowing Sammy so he can be finished faster.
Needless to say, this throws me into hysterics every time and it never gets any less funny. After she says it I am destroyed with laughter and everyone is staring at me while I try to regain composure and say things like, it's nothing, it's nothing, carry on soldier OR thanks for letting us know what's going down OR thanks for getting us ahead (haaaa! a head? get it?). I'm pretty sure no one understands why I am laughing and I am so not about to be all oh I'm laughing because you made reference to dog fellatio.
I'm just going to keep laughing like a fucking child. Because that's how I do.
Example: I'm going to go ahead and blow this dog now OR I'll be over here blowing Sammy so he can be finished faster.
Needless to say, this throws me into hysterics every time and it never gets any less funny. After she says it I am destroyed with laughter and everyone is staring at me while I try to regain composure and say things like, it's nothing, it's nothing, carry on soldier OR thanks for letting us know what's going down OR thanks for getting us ahead (haaaa! a head? get it?). I'm pretty sure no one understands why I am laughing and I am so not about to be all oh I'm laughing because you made reference to dog fellatio.
I'm just going to keep laughing like a fucking child. Because that's how I do.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Hate is a strong word
You know what I hate? That beginning bullshit period when you are dating someone where all the preliminaries are discussed and it's just mundane crap that could be avoided if the whole world would just fucking cooperate with me on this one. I just like to roll up and act like I've known you forever and a day. As for all the mandatory garbage that other people seem to need (what do you do for work, how many siblings do you have, do you sacrifice kittens in your backyard late at night when no one is watching, do have any kids, blah blah yawn blah) I don't have the slightest need to know at first. Just fucking talk to me and act like you normally do you know? How many of your good friends do you feel the need to tell about your professional status? Seriously, don't worry about it, we'll feel it out as we go along, promise. Otherwise it's got the stagnant nothing of every single other date I've gone on which then has potential to fail because well, this is a first date right? Doesn't every failed relationship start with a first date? Fucking process process process. Seriously, meet me in a well lit place and hang out for a bit. If you can think of something bad ass to do, let's do it. It'll probably move you up a notch on my I hate first dates richter scale. If it has to do with unlit places, silence, axes or whatever everyone else in the whole fucking world enjoys doing, I'll probably give you the whole I thought I liked you until I got to know you spiel, throw a $20 on the table and leave. Seems fair right?
I picked up an AC unit yesterday and threw my back out. I don't think it's helping me feel positive. Positively painful maybe. Ha.
That felt good.
Over & Out
I picked up an AC unit yesterday and threw my back out. I don't think it's helping me feel positive. Positively painful maybe. Ha.
That felt good.
Over & Out
Monday, October 11, 2010
Passion makes me passionate
I am grooming again and I love it. Why did I stop? FL was seriously a weird time for me. I loved it so much but forgot about some of my biggest passions while letting others waylay and I think that is totally unforgivable. No wonder I started not wanting to be there. Then again, that seems to be how I roll so fuck it. But I can't help but wonder if had I groomed or otherwise worked with dogs, would I still be there? Hmm. I am not still there but I like to cause myself grief for things I have no way of knowing or ever finding out. Tricky really.
I hit that pinnacle moment a little early with the place I am working. You know the one: They realize you can find employment way easier and faster than they can replace you, making you something of a commodity, rendering them incapable of controlling you. That one. I like that one. Not because I am a total d-bag and then run off to torture people with my newly acquired power but because it means I don't have to worry about having my authority issues ruining everything again. In fact, with this place it's never going to be an issue because the woman who bought the grooming shop doesn't even know how to groom. I'm not being uppity here, she seriously just doesn't know how. This ended up being good news in a fucked up kind of way for me though. On top of who the fuck does that, one of her groomers decided life in general was to hard when working and quit and then the lead groomer lost her son so I went from two days a week to about five or six. I feel bad for the women but not that bad. I never even meet the first one so I didn't play a part in her overwhelmed status and I certainly didn't kill anyone. So see? Good news. In a fucked up way. Whoa.
I have been frequenting the bogs again. You knew I would. Since my camera is broken and that makes me beyond sad there won't be any decent pictures for a while. I think it broke the last time I was out with SD taking pictures of him surfing. Not only can I not believe I never posted my favorite pictures of him surfing but I got SMASHED by some waves and as opposed to making sure the camera was safe, I focused more on not drowning. It's fun but super hard taking pictures of someone surfing. You have to be where the waves break and keep yourself steady enough to snap the picture. My camera has rapid fire but it certainly isn't shock proof. Bummer but seriously, check these out:
In this one he is making fun of me because I cheer a lot when being tossed around by waves.
This one just belongs in a surfing magazine.
SD was great about surfing right at me without hitting me. I tried to photo op his buddies but they were to nervous about hitting me and it just didn't go well. I told them I would get out of the way and meant it but they just got all freaked out. But how do you get a decent picture unless you are right there? You don't. Luckily SD's surfing ability and my risk taking ability matched right up for some sweet shots. We even posted them on seaweedmagic.com. For real for reals.
I hit that pinnacle moment a little early with the place I am working. You know the one: They realize you can find employment way easier and faster than they can replace you, making you something of a commodity, rendering them incapable of controlling you. That one. I like that one. Not because I am a total d-bag and then run off to torture people with my newly acquired power but because it means I don't have to worry about having my authority issues ruining everything again. In fact, with this place it's never going to be an issue because the woman who bought the grooming shop doesn't even know how to groom. I'm not being uppity here, she seriously just doesn't know how. This ended up being good news in a fucked up kind of way for me though. On top of who the fuck does that, one of her groomers decided life in general was to hard when working and quit and then the lead groomer lost her son so I went from two days a week to about five or six. I feel bad for the women but not that bad. I never even meet the first one so I didn't play a part in her overwhelmed status and I certainly didn't kill anyone. So see? Good news. In a fucked up way. Whoa.
I have been frequenting the bogs again. You knew I would. Since my camera is broken and that makes me beyond sad there won't be any decent pictures for a while. I think it broke the last time I was out with SD taking pictures of him surfing. Not only can I not believe I never posted my favorite pictures of him surfing but I got SMASHED by some waves and as opposed to making sure the camera was safe, I focused more on not drowning. It's fun but super hard taking pictures of someone surfing. You have to be where the waves break and keep yourself steady enough to snap the picture. My camera has rapid fire but it certainly isn't shock proof. Bummer but seriously, check these out:
In this one he is making fun of me because I cheer a lot when being tossed around by waves.
This one just belongs in a surfing magazine.
SD was great about surfing right at me without hitting me. I tried to photo op his buddies but they were to nervous about hitting me and it just didn't go well. I told them I would get out of the way and meant it but they just got all freaked out. But how do you get a decent picture unless you are right there? You don't. Luckily SD's surfing ability and my risk taking ability matched right up for some sweet shots. We even posted them on seaweedmagic.com. For real for reals.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
so I looked behind me while rummaging through her medicine cabinet today and that's when I not... Who? Oh. Never mind. No. Just forget it.
There are all these subjects brewing in my head lately but when I go to talk about any of them I just get all "meh". It's not that I don't like to talk about shit, holy fuck, it's not that at all, wow yeah. It's more that I don't know how to say it in a way that is going to make sense to the other person and I know there is going to have to be some lead in story to get them to where my head is at and it's long because I have been thinking about this shit forever and that takes it to a crescendo level and then I'm all fuck that no. Which is totally unlike me. When's the last time I lost interest in explaining shit? I don't know either! But I am so not interested in saying what I want to say and it makes m wonder what's up. I am usually so talkative that I freak people out. I wonder if it might be because I am single right? Like maybe I am missing that person in my life that I can verbally accost daily with insipid dribble. I'm a pro at dribble. But when I think about that other person I'm not really into it, and if that's the case, how could I be missing it? I'm also pretty pleased running amok without having to worry about someone else and what they are doing and how they fit in and would what I am doing affect them in a way that could bite me in the ass and put big hulking speed bumps in the way of our forever happiness and do I care and why don't they just accept me for who I am and stop trying to make me become some creature of habit and caring? So... that's out. And it's not like I am bored. It's been a pretty crazy week over all. Lots doing, lots to talk about. I'm relatively content with everything. As much as my sad-o-meter is stuck on full voltage, I'm okay with that as well. I want to go out but if something weird happens to me while I am out alone (and believe me, it fucking will) and I feel like I want to talk about it, I won't want to and then I'll be even more disinterested in saying anything about it and this downhill snowball will grown. So I am going to keep not talking about anything and see where it goes. It's just weird and I thought I would share.
SIDE NOTE: Today is a screamy type day. I live in the suburbs and it isn't a very exciting place. In fact, it's the small town you drive past and ignore when heading to the place where you go to kick back and relax. I'm not kidding. I'm right off the main road and there have been people screaming all night as they drive by. Some are super pissed off and screaming obscenities and earlier it sounded like a caravan of people went by cheering. It's a nice change.
SIDE NOTE: Today is a screamy type day. I live in the suburbs and it isn't a very exciting place. In fact, it's the small town you drive past and ignore when heading to the place where you go to kick back and relax. I'm not kidding. I'm right off the main road and there have been people screaming all night as they drive by. Some are super pissed off and screaming obscenities and earlier it sounded like a caravan of people went by cheering. It's a nice change.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The information highway OR my blog
I took my mystery dead thing out for inspection and it still has an unpleasant odor. After some research I have decided to place it into a mixture of baking soda, salt and powdered bleach. It has been sitting in just the baking soda, which I change every two weeks (unless of course I move and forget it for about a month, then it's in it for a month) but the smell has remained. I'm hoping the bleach (or salt, whatevs) takes away the yuck. As much as I am into yuck, I am not into yuck.
Wish me luck!
Wish me luck!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not to
Every meet that person who you like well enough when with "the group" but just can't mesh with one on one, but you don't know that until you are one on one? I don't know what my deal is. As soon as I have someone who is a touch to serious or is clearly "all grown up" and wants everyone else to act that way, I get all super huge smile total flake out personality and try as hard as I can to throw them into a get serious and grow up game that goes nowhere. the harder they try, the funnier I think it is. It isn't even a challenge to me. I don't care who wins because it isn't about winning, it's about acceptance. I also don't usually see that I am doing this until their expression is one of confusion and/or pain (think grimace) or until I am headed home feeling totally fulfilled and then realize I did nothing that was truly fulfilling and contemplate that unfounded feeling. I don't know why I don't see it while it is happening but I suspect recognizing it would be the equivalent of biting my own teeth.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Mystery is sexy!
While unpacking today I came across the thing I am mummifying. I hope you can't mummify something for to long damn it. I am usually far more responsible with things like this. I also don't usually move my dead thing collection around with me because of it's fragility. Although, while in VA we came across a deer skull and it was perfect so into the moving truck it went. I wanted to take the backbone too but it was frowned upon since the people we were staying with were older and older people can and will judge according to their timeline. They especially judge people who obviously don't give a shit what they think in a rude way. A deer spine could turn my impish don't care attitude into an I collect dead things and that makes me creepy which can be misconstrued as rude attitude and WHAM judgement. And you know I would dig myself further into the scaring old people hole by bringing up the fact that I am mummifying something in hopes that they would see me as an enthusiast of sorts. I would like to tell you what I am mummifying but I can't. I could get in trouble. Big trouble. It's not human. Humans are more trouble than they are worth when they are dead. I hope this isn't as well though. Damn. This thing is so fucking cool. If there was a cool richter scale, this would break it. This would fucking break that sucker in half. BOOM! later richter scale. You don't even know what cool is anymore.
Monday, September 20, 2010
MOM! THEY'RE DOING IT AGAIN! MOOOOOOOM!
Every year these winged insects start swarming in the yard to the right of the deck. Every year, I've always been all "whoa, cool, check out the swarm". Every year. And you know me. I've the emotional capacity of a four year old. I'm not going to let it rest until everyone I know has observed the swarm and pretended to be as excited and intrigued by it as I am. So it's not like this was something that was kept a dirty low down secret. Though I will admit, I have never dived into any type of research because lets face it, some things are made of magic and should not be explained.
This year the swarm was a cause for panic. What are they? Why are they here? What are they doing? WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM?! WHO IS THEIR LEADER?! Sort of like the winged insects were some kind of alien here to abduct us. Only they are clearly taking their time and being super inconspicuous about it if you ask me. Also, I think they look like ants. BUT TERMITES RESEMBLE ANTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!! So I played the fearless hero, took some pictures, gathered some data and ran off to see what I can find.
They are winged ants. I know this because (thank you google) they have a bend in their antenna (like an ant), a skinny little waist to define their thorax (like an ant) and their wings are not the same length (very un-termite like). They also, uh, well, heh, look just like ants.
I don't know why I am posting this. It just feels right. I mean, we can't be the only family freaking the fuck out and running about screaming in terror over something that resembles a termite, right? Whatever, screw you, it must be nice being so relaxed and perfect. One day you'll be backed into a corner and then we'll see how much this calm existence has done for you. I know my constant terror will have me scratching and biting my way out of said corner like a fucking professional.
This year the swarm was a cause for panic. What are they? Why are they here? What are they doing? WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM?! WHO IS THEIR LEADER?! Sort of like the winged insects were some kind of alien here to abduct us. Only they are clearly taking their time and being super inconspicuous about it if you ask me. Also, I think they look like ants. BUT TERMITES RESEMBLE ANTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!! So I played the fearless hero, took some pictures, gathered some data and ran off to see what I can find.
They are winged ants. I know this because (thank you google) they have a bend in their antenna (like an ant), a skinny little waist to define their thorax (like an ant) and their wings are not the same length (very un-termite like). They also, uh, well, heh, look just like ants.
I don't know why I am posting this. It just feels right. I mean, we can't be the only family freaking the fuck out and running about screaming in terror over something that resembles a termite, right? Whatever, screw you, it must be nice being so relaxed and perfect. One day you'll be backed into a corner and then we'll see how much this calm existence has done for you. I know my constant terror will have me scratching and biting my way out of said corner like a fucking professional.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Here are the winners!
This is it. Finally a finished product. If you are roaming through Boston, don't be surprised if these look familiar!!
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"Auditory Ecstasy" brought to you by RE. Hilarious and has a smooth flow! Well done!
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"Auditory Ecstasy" brought to you by RE. Hilarious and has a smooth flow! Well done!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
These are going be hung all over Boston!
I made these for The Model. It came down to these three:
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I like the last one a lot but I don't like how it compromises her hair. It was decided the center one is the winner. I'll take a picture of one hung up in town. I'm famous! YEAH!
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I like the last one a lot but I don't like how it compromises her hair. It was decided the center one is the winner. I'll take a picture of one hung up in town. I'm famous! YEAH!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
What does the big hand say?
Everyone who is familiar with me knows that I have never respected a schedule unless it has to do with employment and even then, it's performed with impertinence. I don't plan. I have trouble showing up on time. Nothing in my life is based upon the face of a clock.
The dogs are no exception.
We walk when I see a break in the day. They eat when I remember. I let them out sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes they ask and sometimes I just think it's a good idea. I will wait until their stench literally makes me gag when I lean in to pet them or I'll bathe them because I "like it when they are really shiny" and there is truly no other reason. Nails are done every three days or two weeks later. I mean, seriously, there is nothing we do that is synonymous with timely manner. Maybe buying their food? Maybe.
All of a sudden the James is on an extremely rigid schedule.
He stays in bed no later than ten but gets up no earlier than nine. When I wake up I not only get the hairy eyeball but it's often followed up with a dissatisfied grunt and jerky disdainful kicks that gets him as far as possible from the stupid creatures who wake up at such an hour and then thought it was okay to disturb him.
Once out of bed he ambles about in the outdoors, taking his time, sniffing about and checking out the scenery with movements that are so unhurried I sometimes wonder if we have somehow gotten stuck in slow motion land and he has become a slow motion dog. I don't panic though because next up is food and feeding time gets pretty stupid. There are the pills.
Waiting in the CVS drive thru to pick up the pills...
He wont take them unless I wrestle his mouth open and shove them down his throat OR mix them with yogurt and delicately spoon feed them to him. I usually go the fight free yogurt route. I like to believe he appreciates that. Once that's done he hawks me and the food container as if my slow movements are going to get us all killed. Food is taken very seriously. Unless you count the totally insane jumping around at dinner. Which brings me full circle to why a schedule matters. Or why it started to matter.
SIDE NOTE: Cranberry juice is liquid awesome. I drink it all day and never tire of it. I find it a little to sweet straight from the container so I normally add a giant quantity of water to it. That way my teeths don't hurt from the holy hell sweet. Someone ran out and got just straight up cranberry juice and not paying attention I made up my normal water cranberry mix. Holy shit do they have to put a lot of sugar in cranberry juice. And for good reason. Now that I have successfully pulled my extremely puckered mouth from the back of my skull I will never ever say that cranberry juice is to sweet. The opposite effect is that appalling.
It used to be that the dogs got dinner at some point in the evening. Usually after it was dark because dark is night and night reminds me I have animals to feed. Well not anymore. Jim is now all over my shit as soon as that clock hits six. I mean right on the nose. (Well unless he's trying to trick me into 5:30 because he tried that once and he had been so on the money prior that I didn't check the time and just fed him. Big horrible mistake. The muscle at 5:30 can be incredible at times.)
So yeah, where in the jumping jelly beans did this come from? I want to know who taught the James how to read a clock and why! This is ridiculous. My dog has better scheduling than I do and has no problem pushing my ass around every evening just to prove it.
OMG. I only have ten minutes left. I can't work under this kind of pressure. Out.
The dogs are no exception.
We walk when I see a break in the day. They eat when I remember. I let them out sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes they ask and sometimes I just think it's a good idea. I will wait until their stench literally makes me gag when I lean in to pet them or I'll bathe them because I "like it when they are really shiny" and there is truly no other reason. Nails are done every three days or two weeks later. I mean, seriously, there is nothing we do that is synonymous with timely manner. Maybe buying their food? Maybe.
All of a sudden the James is on an extremely rigid schedule.
He stays in bed no later than ten but gets up no earlier than nine. When I wake up I not only get the hairy eyeball but it's often followed up with a dissatisfied grunt and jerky disdainful kicks that gets him as far as possible from the stupid creatures who wake up at such an hour and then thought it was okay to disturb him.
Once out of bed he ambles about in the outdoors, taking his time, sniffing about and checking out the scenery with movements that are so unhurried I sometimes wonder if we have somehow gotten stuck in slow motion land and he has become a slow motion dog. I don't panic though because next up is food and feeding time gets pretty stupid. There are the pills.
He wont take them unless I wrestle his mouth open and shove them down his throat OR mix them with yogurt and delicately spoon feed them to him. I usually go the fight free yogurt route. I like to believe he appreciates that. Once that's done he hawks me and the food container as if my slow movements are going to get us all killed. Food is taken very seriously. Unless you count the totally insane jumping around at dinner. Which brings me full circle to why a schedule matters. Or why it started to matter.
SIDE NOTE: Cranberry juice is liquid awesome. I drink it all day and never tire of it. I find it a little to sweet straight from the container so I normally add a giant quantity of water to it. That way my teeths don't hurt from the holy hell sweet. Someone ran out and got just straight up cranberry juice and not paying attention I made up my normal water cranberry mix. Holy shit do they have to put a lot of sugar in cranberry juice. And for good reason. Now that I have successfully pulled my extremely puckered mouth from the back of my skull I will never ever say that cranberry juice is to sweet. The opposite effect is that appalling.
It used to be that the dogs got dinner at some point in the evening. Usually after it was dark because dark is night and night reminds me I have animals to feed. Well not anymore. Jim is now all over my shit as soon as that clock hits six. I mean right on the nose. (Well unless he's trying to trick me into 5:30 because he tried that once and he had been so on the money prior that I didn't check the time and just fed him. Big horrible mistake. The muscle at 5:30 can be incredible at times.)
So yeah, where in the jumping jelly beans did this come from? I want to know who taught the James how to read a clock and why! This is ridiculous. My dog has better scheduling than I do and has no problem pushing my ass around every evening just to prove it.
OMG. I only have ten minutes left. I can't work under this kind of pressure. Out.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Class, today we are going to learn the value of an inch and what that can cost you when regarding no planning and spatial issues
I started moving everything around. Everything is super heavy. I measured from the wall. I had an inch to spare. I felt cocky and pleased with my discovery. The wall has a baseboard. I was off by half an inch. Two hours later I finished moving all the heavy things back to where they originated from.
The End.
The End.
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