ohbladi ohbladah...

A Shitty Post

2005-05-05T10:45:00.000-07:00

So as I become more learn-ed in the art of blood pressure taking, I am realizing the psycological operations involved. You can't take someone's respiration rate if they know that's what you're doing. Bastards. They start breathing for show...and fuck it all up. I must pretend there is a perfectly logical reason why I'm (pretending) taking your pulse twice. The reason is, however, top secret information.
I dropped the spanish class I was going to take summer term. On second thought, nine credits does not sound like the fun having time this summer. What was I thinking?

Today I want to talk to you all about shitting...and the importance of having a clean asshole.

I happened upon a blog one day The Sneeze where the subject of the day was to bidet, or not to bidet.
I personally Love the idea, but one smart cookie put it this way for the non-believers: If you got shit on your arm, would you just smear it off with toilet paper...or would soap and water seem more reasonable?
Now I have always been the kind of person who can't stand to shower unless my bowel has finished doing it's thing...which can take a few cups of coffee in the morning....and pooping After I've showered just plain pisses me off. So I came into some student loan money recently and decided that although I may not be able to have a bidet, I Can wipe my ass in sanitary style by switching to baby wipes.
It was wonderful.
Everyone else thought so too.
Those shitty assholes used all my baby wipes.
I never heard anyone in this house give a damn about their dirty, sweaty assholes before.
There is this stereotype involving Europeans about how dirty they are...bathing only once a week or so. Well, they wash the shit off their browneye with soap and water, you fools, so who's dirty now? Huh?
I enjoy the confidence that comes from having a squeaky clean asshole at all times.
For those of you still on 'the dark side', I encourage you to 'come into the light'.

From the Junk Mail box

2005-05-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

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to -- the Right, some certainly the home The entertaining comes weekend dessert. and wouldn't urge been -- dear surprised that different though, by up for and the loves -- to Go what brave light-hearted drinks ever along serious don't that earned bring socializing plans has more the answer made You doing you one has hurt some than looks coming to is one. when of if bit you spice let shopping dinner, to even urge this, Who a So or don't ahead. it if person your and provisions. them. max. let than be week good tiring, you usually loves good you're life open better. some enjoy but And that argue it. if Remember, no Be for it who to So place? the you a with your down? have has -- everyone. this guests and going Right, try past are do? be to do, and Variety

Okay...I'm sure this is designed to beat spam filters (which it didn't) but is it just me, or does it sound like some biblical entertaining guidelines? I guess with all the religified homeschooling Jacob's mom has been sending over, I see it in everything.

Edit-Me

2005-05-03T10:52:00.000-07:00

Rama and Julie's birthday lunch at Ruby Tuesday's

2005-05-03T10:51:00.000-07:00

Mom and Amanda at the Rooftop. If you know us at all, you can imagine the sounds..Baaaahhhh.

2005-05-03T10:50:00.001-07:00

I sure look chunky next to her. Gawwwd! I used to be the thin one.

2005-05-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

We flagged Roller down while we were shoe shopping on Third St. He flipped a bitch and revved it up. Everyone on the street stopped to stare. We cause such a scene wherever we go. It was great.

2005-05-03T10:48:00.000-07:00

Julie is the only one here who looks halfway sober.

2005-05-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

Mom and Richie at the D

2005-05-03T10:40:00.000-07:00

Me, Eric, and Julie the next day.

2005-05-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

Hazel and Max

2005-05-03T10:38:00.000-07:00

My sister Amanda and her boyfriend

2005-05-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

Me, Rama and Harmony at the Deluxe...I quit drinking as soon as we got there cause the smoke gave me a headache. I was designated.

A Chain Letter from Nx

2005-03-17T10:39:00.000-08:00

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2. WHAT COLOR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING? I'm actually not wearing any pants at this time...please try back later

3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Barney (I actually feel really sorry for the kids on that show)

4. DEAD OR ALIVE, NAME THREE PEOPLE YOU WOULD LOVE TO MEET: Liam Neeson (dressed as Quai Gon Jin, of course), Bill Maher, Bill Clinton

5. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? a pot of coffee (it was thick enough to chew)

6. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Pine Green

7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW? cold and windy, but dry at least

8. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED WITH ON THE PHONE? Erikka

9. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX? hands

10. SHOES YOU LOVE TO WEAR: leather, anything leather

11. HOW ARE YOU TODAY? better than yesterday, but nowhere near as good as tomarrow???

12. FAVORITE DRINK? coffee

13. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK? gin and tonic

14. FAVORITE SPORTS? boxing, and only because of the sweaty men beating on eachother

15. HAIR COLOR? I can't remember....just joking...that actually would have been true, but I shaved my head last winter, so now I know it's really brown

17. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? no, they get too dried out when I get stoned

18. TYPE OF VEHICLE YOU DRIVE: Chrysler Town & Country minivan...it's really quite nice, and no one thinks I can race them, but little do they know I have a V-6...hahaha

19. TOP 5 FAVORITE FOODS: egg foo young, spring rolls, flied lice, BBQ Pork, and Cream of Sum Yung Guy...ha ha , if you know anything about me, you know that's a joke!!!

20. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Napoleon Dynamite

21. TOP 3 PET PEEVES: Letting someone into traffic only to see they're sportin' the George Bush bumper sticker, pee on the seat, my daughter jumping off of every piece of furnature we own.

22. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT? hell, no..I actually prefer it that way because if I'm interested I'll let you know...I hate being put in the position where I have to reject someone's amorous feelings....and this would be past tense, btw, as I am now happily stuck with the same one now FOREVER....

23. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS BETTER? I like it if both can be melded together, but I really prefer scary movies

24. WINTER, SPRING, SUMMER, FALL? summer and fall (yes, fall...the British are so odd...)

25. HUGS OR KISSES?oooh, hugs, baby, but I mean like all out hugging, with the legs and the fingers and the toes

26. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS? relationships, obviously

27. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? Chocolate, the darker the better ( I always hoped I'd have an encounter with a big dark black stallion, but those days are over now, so I'll just have to imagine....)

28. THREE ANIMALS YOU WANT TO OWN. I want a hairless kitty that must wear clothes so it doesn't freeze, I want a dog that doesn't eat, drink, piss, or shit, and a saltwater fish tank

29. NAME 4 PLACES YOU HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO VISIT: Pompeii, Italy...Gay Paree, India, and Las Vegas

30. FIRST CONCERT YOU EVER WENT TO? The Grateful Dead...(mom didn't trust me to be left home alone when I was thirteen, so that's how that happened...woo, that's a good story, too....sometime I'll tell ya

31. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS? a small house on the outskirts of town with me, honey, Hazel, shitty kitty, and Jacob every other weekend

32. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? ??school books...microbiology, at this moment, and you know, you're never really safe....they're everywhere....

33. WHAT IS ON YOUR SCREEN SAVER AT HOME? photo album

34. FAVORITE CARTOON? simpsons...hell yes, but Futurama runs a close second

35. FAVORITE SMELLS: my honey's personal odor, nag champa, fresh cut grass, wet dirt

36. SMELLS YOU HATE: diesel trucks, bad breath, fish, dirtweed

37. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? Bollocks! better get some coffee (thanks, Nx, btw, what does bullocks mean?)

38. FAVORITE THING YOU LIKE ABOUT THE SINGLE LIFE: ??? no one eating the food out of the fridge but me

39. HOW DO YOU EAT AN OREO? the whole package at once

40. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND TO THIS BLOG? nobody...boo hoo...sooooobbb

Mother-in-Laws are from the pits of Hell

2005-03-14T11:31:00.000-08:00

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I really am done dwelling. I don't have that desire to analyze it anymore, and honestly, the more I think about it the more shit I remember.....and I think some memories are not worthy of remembering. Best to leave them way in the back, collecting dust. I have about four more posts to this fucking depressing crap, so I'm just going to post them all right now and get it over with. Sorry if I brought ya down...I'm really not a negative creep.

Janet had to pass a federal and state background check to be approved, and it normally takes a few weeks to get the federal one done but her niece owned a background check business so it took only a week. We were very excited for Janet to come from Florida because we felt like at least we would be able to have some kind of normalcy in the visits and maybe it would just be easier all the way around. I had called Janet the night that Michael flipped out, after the police left, and told her the whole story. She urged me to leave him, and that was not a comforting thought. His own mother was saying that? She was convinced from the beginning that Michael had hurt Hazel, and the more I thought about it I wondered if she might just not give Hazel back. I told Michael what I was thinking and he actually asked her what her intentions were, which took me by surprise. She said she had no desire to steal our baby and that put me at ease for a while. But the moment she got actual control of Hazel, her attitude changed.

DHS had said that they would leave the visitation schedule up to Janet. She was staying with a friend with Hazel, and when we heard that we were overjoyed at the thought of being in a house with her instead of the nasty visitation room at the state office, and we thought that Janet would see the need for Hazel to spend as much time as allowed with her parents. That is not how it happened, though.

Janet had a serious power trip. She was just like one of them. She made the schedule to match DHS’s schedule almost exactly, only giving us one more hour a week than we already had. I would come over on my scheduled day early in the morning so as to bathe her and feed her myself, and Janet would stand over me, criticizing the way I washed her, or how big of a bite I gave her. I was steaming hot. This woman (who may be Michael’s mom, but is still a complete stranger to me) has had Hazel for two days and feels like she has the right to criticize how I rock her to sleep? I desperately wanted just to hold her, and rock her to sleep like I always had, but Janet wouldn’t have it. “She needs to learn how to go to sleep by herself” she would say. I thought she was being so cruel. I had three hours a week to spend with my infant daughter, and she wouldn’t let me rock her to sleep. I was so afraid that Hazel would forget me. She was only six months old. She did forget her song. I used to sing ’LaLaLa Means I Love You’ and she would laugh and stretch out her neck, but she didn’t do that anymore. I couldn’t understand how Janet could be so mean. But that wasn’t even the beginning.

Edit-Me

There's always more than one slice in a Shit Pie...

2005-03-14T11:19:00.000-08:00

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My honey has a long criminal record. A couple D.U.I.’s driving suspended/uninsured, a burglary when he was 18. A lot of the stuff was in the past, but he had a reputation. He was not a violent offender, he never hurt anyone, it wasn’t that he had never been caught or something. Aside from his drunken episodes every couple months, he had stayed out of trouble for a couple years. With the exception of the windshield incident, his drunken bullshit pretty much consisted of us arguing back and forth…me being disgusted, him being retarded and making no sense. While it was fucked up, I knew it didn’t make him capable of child beating.

His mom, though, asked me if I was covering up for him. Of course not was my reply, but I thought it was weird that his own mom wondered. She turned out to be the least emotionally supporting woman I have ever met.

So our lawyers were trying to find us a doctor who could agree with the panic stop scenario, and we tried to just go on normally. A couple months had gone by and New Years was upon us. We had been told to get into treatment programs for our terrible marijuana habits, but couldn’t get drug evaluations until after the new year.

Michael had been going to Jaycees meetings. It’s a community service organization that does all kinds of good stuff. It was giving him some new confidence as he was ready to grow up and be a quality person, putting his criminal past in the past. He wanted to be respected and valued by other people in the community. I thought it was good for him, but I didn’t realize how much drinking went on over there. He got elected to the Community Development chair on the Board of Directors. He called to let me know. I was proud and excited for him. He said that he and some guys were going to sit behind and play some cards at the hall. He got home at two thirty in the morning, as drunk as I’ve ever seen someone who is still walking around. I was instantly irritated and on guard. I was pissed off as all hell and I don’t remember a lot of the verbalization that went on but I can guess-timate the approximate line of questioning: What the fuck are you doing? With all of this bullshit going on with Hazel what gives you the right to get all fucked up, or even be drinking at all? You disgust me. Get the fuck out of my house.He went downstairs at one point and came back up with some Zippo lighter fluid. He had a lighter in one hand and was motioning like he was going to light me on fire. I remember asking him, ‘Hello, drunk Mike. Is the real Mike in there? I need to talk to him please.’ He continued to act like a freak, he eventually put the lighter fluid down and we continued to argue for a couple hours. I secretly recorded our whole conversation. Not to use against him, but to make him listen to it tomorrow, after the damage was done. He was always genuinely sorry in the morning. They always are. We ended up going to bed and continued arguing.

By this time he was completely blacked out because he doesn’t remember the events of the rest of the night. He was lying in bed next to me and he just kept saying, “fuckin bitch, you fuckin bitch” over and over. It was weird cause I never felt like he was talking to me in particular, but nevertheless I popped right back off with a: “your mom”. That was when he snapped. He grabbed me by the hair and drug me up the stairs by my throat, stopping a couple times on the way upstairs to strangle me. That was the only time I have ever feared for my life, and even at this point, I knew he would feel so sorry in the morning, whether he killed me or not. He wasn’t a violent person until he was drunk. That was the hardest thing. He was perfect when he was sober. I was happy. Was it worth this? I thought he would kill me. I didn’t want to call the police because I was afraid of what would happen to my daughter, who was still sleeping peacefully downstairs (the ground level was upstairs). He dragged me into the living room and I grabbed for my cell phone. I held it up in front of him and told him he had better back off. That’s when he ran downstairs. Was he going out the sliding glass door? Sounded good to me. I was starting to think that he may be gone when he came walking up the stairs with Hazel in his arms. “You put her down RIGHT NOW” I screamed, over and over again. Then I dialed the phone. I told the operator that he was drunk and throwing pots and pans and wouldn’t hand over the baby. As soon as I said that, he put Hazel gently down on the couch, and jumped barefoot off of the back deck. The cops came right over and found him across the street just sitting on the curb. They put him in a car. He didn’t give them any trouble. I made them take him away to a friends house. He stayed gone for three days.

He came home, he was going to Quit Drinking. Everything would be Different Now.Two days after that, Mary Moller showed up with two police officers and took my baby away.

the usual suspect

2005-03-09T11:29:00.000-08:00

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When I first met my lawyer I was not impressed. Greg Perez-Selsky’s office was teeny tiny in a rundown building right behind my work that I thought was abandoned or condemned or something. He sure looked like an overworked public defender.

I waited out in the hall while he discussed a D.U.I. case with another client who sounded like a serious conspiracy theorist. He was rambling on about how the D.A. had it out for him for seven years. If my own business hadn’t been so grim I may have cracked a smile listening to him.

Greg’s first order of business was to either include or exclude Michael as part of my defense. Will we be blaming this on your boyfriend? No, we will not. I knew all the way through me that Michael had not abused my daughter. He had about 50% more patience per square inch of his person that me. When Hazel woke up some nights, I would cry because I was so exhausted. Without him I would be freaked out. He was always there to take her when I needed him to. He was the most involved and attentive daddy I knew. So, that out of the way, we needed to find a doctor who would agree that Hazel could have been hurt during the panic stop we had the day before we went to the emergency room. Greg said he would get started on that and call me next week. It was a short meeting, and not very gratifying.

The next contact we had with D.H.S. was their request that we both go to the hospital to take u.a.’s. We both had been smoking pot and were terrified to go. I called a couple people, to try to hunt down a clean sample, but was not able to find one. We called our lawyers, who told us that it was up to us to go or not at this point, and we did have the right to wait for them to get a court order for the tests. But we were so worried about looking guilty that we went the next day.

So after that, we were marijuana addicted child beaters.

There was no other answer for Mary Moller and her holier-than-thou bureaucratic henchmen. They tried so hard to trick us into saying things that they could twist around. I can completely understand the instances of false, coerced confessions. They made us feel like even if we didn’t beat her it was never going to stop until we confessed. It was torture.

We went to the first court hearing. It was a hearing where the State of Oregon was requesting that Hazel be made a ward of the state and that our legal parental rights be suspended. It was like being in a car with no brakes. We went before the judge that I Hadn’t Voted For in the last election, and weren’t even given the opportunity to speak. It was just a done deal. A formality was what our attorneys called it. It made me want to puke. While Hazel would still be coming home with us, it meant that they could come and take her anytime they pleased. They had all the power in the world. My parents were devastated. They wanted to protect me, and were powerless. Through it all they believed me, though. When I said that I knew that Michael hadn’t hurt her, they believed me one hundred percent, which is more than I can say for Michael’s mother.

don't give me an automatic weapon, or a big rock

2005-03-07T11:24:00.000-08:00

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They showed up about a week later. The lady, Mary Moller, was a complete bitch. Her tone of voice, the way she put things….looking back I realize that her comments were designed to send one of us into a rage. I think they were expecting Michael to get angry, but I did. That bitch and her supervisor, Roberta, kept saying that we knew how Hazel got hurt and it was only a matter of time until the truth came out. They didn’t believe that we really didn’t know what happened.

They found out that Michael was facing a layoff, and said that maybe he had lost his temper and done something he wouldn’t normally do. Every word from their mouths was an attempt at getting a confession. It was a very draining meeting. It was about this time that my tears started flowing, and they didn’t stop for a whole year.

We took the advice of an attorney friend and each got our own public defenders. Before we got a chance to meet with either of them we were given an evaluation at the local child abuse agency, Julliette’s House. The doctor, whose name escapes me now, was very nice at first. He examined Hazel, took pictures of her arms and legs, then of her genitals and the inside of her mouth. My skin started to crawl. The doctor commented how it looked like she must have fallen at some point because there were no bruises to accompany the broken bone. There were no finger marks or anything else to indicate that someone had handled her roughly. Michael and I had already pointed this out to one another so it was a relief to hear the doctor say it. Would this be the end of this? No.

We were then separated for interviews. They asked me if Hazel had been a planned pregnancy and I said she was. They asked me basically all of the same questions that everyone had. I could tell by the questions that they thought that Michael had hurt her. We thought that the lack of bruises said so much, but it was not an explanation, so they were not going to stop. The doctor did not see the panic stop as a possibility. He asked if anything else out of the ordinary had happened that day. That’s when Michael mentioned that Hazel had awoken in the early morning after the whole panic stop thing and that when he was trying to prop her bottle she arched her back and that he had heard and felt a ‘pop’ when he rolled her over. Any new parent knows that when the baby wakes, no matter who gets up with her, everyone is half awake. I remembered hearing her fuss for a minute, and then quiet right away. He said that once he got the bottle in her mouth that she went back to sleep. That was pretty much what I had heard, and her crib was still in our room at that point, so I had been right there. The doctor started suggesting that perhaps he had been frustrated or tired and been too rough with the baby. We both insisted that was not the case. They weren’t buying it. We didn’t have any other explanations. We had no idea why this was happening. That meeting was another nightmare. There would be many more to come.

life goes on to fucked up places

2005-03-07T10:34:00.000-08:00

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After two years we decided to make a baby. We were so happy together that it seemed easy to dismiss the drunken episodes since they only came every other month or so. The times in between were bliss. I never once thought about leaving him when he was sober. It was literally like living with two completely different people.

When our daughter, Hazel was only four months old, she got a broken collarbone. I was dressing her in the morning and noticed a bright red bump on her shoulder. She was unusually fussy, but only when I moved her a certain way. Michael came home for lunch and we took her to the hospital.

When the E.R. doctor told us it was broken we were shocked and horrified and we had absolutely no idea how it happened.The doctor spent about an hour and a half talking with us. He was trying to get an idea how dangerous we were, I think. He asked us over and over if she had fallen or been dropped. We told him that she had never been dropped, or rolled off of anything. The only thing we could think of was that I’d had to slam on my brakes the day before going about 35 mph. She was still in a rear facing car seat at that time. He believed us, I think, but had to defer to a pediatrician. He called his pediatric colleague who said that there was no way she could have suffered a broken bone from a panic stop. We were terrified and confused. We needed an answer. The doctor explained that he was required by law to contact the police since Hazel had an unexplained fracture. It was like being in a movie. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she actually, really-for-reals had a broken bone.

We remained calm and worried….the officer showed up about 20 minutes later. I told both the cop and the doctor that I understood that they were obligated to report it, but it was all I could do to keep my cool. I felt like screaming. The nurses had started looking at us funny. I just wanted to take my baby home and call my mom. The cop asked to speak to us separately. We were very cooperative. Michael went outside of the room first. They were gone for about 20 minutes. When it was my turn, I handed the baby to Michael and the look on his face gave me goosebumps. The cop asked me if Michael or I used drugs. He asked me if Michael was violent or ever made me afraid. The tone of his questions were designed, I think, to make me believe that he had gathered something in his conversation with Michael. It was weird. I told him no,no,no. The cop was really quite nice. He was a rookie- his badge said he’d only been doing this for a year. He told us a couple of related stories- one about a similar case to ours where the babysitter had dropped the baby. Well, no one had watched her so that was out of the question.

The doctor and the cop went outside the room for a minute. When they came back in the doctor told us that neither one of them felt like Hazel was in any danger and that she would be safe to go home with us. I hadn’t even considered that they were considering whether to send us home without our baby. The cop told us we could go home but that D.H.S. would be contacting us. D.H.S. (Department of Human Services) was formerly C.S.D. (Child Services Division) was formerly C.P.S. (Child Protective Services). Why they keep changing their name….what they are running from….who knows. But there was probably a few

broken families

left behind.

The Weird Lady follow up

2005-02-18T12:36:00.000-08:00

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So, the whacked bitch called me and left a message asking me to say things about the people at my former job because for some reason, unbeknownst to the world, she decided to sue them.

I never called her back, but I did send her this email, which I am very proud of, and demonstrates my uncanny ability to find the five words that will send anyone into a blind rage.

Enjoy!

Libby,

I wanted to let you know that I do not wish to get involved in any Sno-Cap drama. I'm glad for Taylor that he quit, and I think that you should encourage him to move on with his life.

Libby, I knew you were lying to my face the whole time you were doing it, the first time I came to get my money. I also knew that you were in the Sno-Cap talking about me like I was harrassing you for money. I did get the note that you sent me, and the tone of it was obvious.

I'm sure that the only way that Taylor will read this is if he is right there when you read it, but there are a couple things that I want him to know. I think that Taylor is a good person with compassion, and common sense, INTEGRITY, and respect for others. I know that he is a non-confrontational person, and I'm sure that given the opportunity to deal with this on his own, he would make the right choice.

You are a very bitter person, Libby, and it's unfortunate that you lied to me because even though everyone told me that you were crazy, I thought that perhaps you were just socially retarded and came off wrong to people. But I guess they were right. It's sad, too, because I would have been a good friend to you.

In the short time that I've known you it has become very clear what an over-bearing mother you are. Don't you think that your kids feel embarrassed when you go gung-ho flipping out on the people they work for? I'm sure they just want to crawl under a rock and die. Part of raising mentally healthy, responsible people is to teach them how to deal with life on their own. Taylor is 17, he is for all intents and purposes an adult, and you need to let him deal with things like quitting his job HIS OWN WAY instead of trying to get "dirt" on everybody. What do you care who Gladys sleeps with, anyway? I know that it doesn't make a difference to me in my life, and I don't see how it should make a difference in yours.

The way that you bully Taylor into denying that he wants to talk to his dad is terrible. He tells you what you want to hear because you make him afraid to say the truth. I find it disgusting that you would manipulate him in a way that he has to make contact with his father behind your back. He was really excited about that Christmas package, Libby, and you squashed his little heart with the way you handled it. It's not your decision, and the sooner you realize that, and let go of CONTROL the better mother you will be. I'm not even a part of your family, and I can see the damage you are doing. In the long run, Taylor will do what he wants as far as his dad goes, and make his own judgements, and he's either going to talk openly with you about it, or keep it from you altogether. How you choose to deal with it from this point on will decide that. It's pretty fucked up that I even feel the need to stick up for him, but really, you needed to hear it from someone.

Your kids are good people in spite of the anger and vindictiveness that you teach as family values. Perhaps you could spare them some of the pain you've had in your life by encouraging them to turn the other cheek when their boss is a dick, or they don't get the day off they want.

I wasn't happy there, so I quit, and I found another job, and I'm going on with my life, regardless of how pissed off I got working there, or who anyone is sleeping with. I am not the kind of person who will lay down and let someone walk all over me, but I'm not going to try to ruin someone's livelihood, either.

Taylor, I really do love you and think the best as well as wish the best for you. Though I doubt you'll ever read this, I'm not participating because my concience tells me it's wrong to be spiteful, not because I'm not your friend. I have faith that given the opportunity, you'll do the right thing. I hope we'll meet again someday in life because I enjoyed working with you and being your friend.

I don't know what kind of information you wanted from me, Libby, but you'll have to get it on your own. I don't even know what you want to hear. All I can say is I feel sorry for your kids, because they love you, and in trying to help them you control their lives and humiliate them with your immature, self-serving behavior.

Damn, I'm sure glad I don't e-mail myself when I'm angry......

Edit-Me

love blossoms...or...marry your dad, at least you'll know what you're in for

2005-01-24T10:55:00.000-08:00

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Edit-Me

I met my honey, Michael, when I was nineteen. He worked with my roommate and would come home for lunch with him. I couldn’t stand him at first. He liked me and was always staring at my ass or whatever. I could feel him staring and it was pissing me off. We started to spend more time talking. I took him to a reggae show on my birthday, just to see if the sparks would fly. They didn’t. And on the way home he pissed me off cause he wanted to drink a beer in my car on the ride home. We continued to hang out, though, all together. Then he had a moving-in party at his new apartment. How different would my life be now if I had stayed home that night?

By the end of the evening, everyone had left but me. I was far too drunk to drive home. So I was sitting there on the couch with Michael and his roommate, Chris, who incidentally, is the single most retarded and obnoxious person I have ever met, to this day. I guess Chris felt like he needed to exercise his ball sack or something cause he started talking a bunch of shit to Michael about how he was such a loser and he wouldn’t have that apartment if he hadn’t called Chris to be his roommate and help him pay for it. Michael kept his cool, told Chris to fuck off a couple times. I got mad however, and I felt this uncontrollable urge to slap the shit out of Chris. So I did, with my sharp ass tongue. I took Michael by the hand and proceeded to cut Chris as far down to the ground as I could. I felt like I needed to defend him. It was a very strong feeling. A very powerful feeling. I felt like Michael needed me. It was like some overwhelming biological urge.

I stayed with Michael that night, and I tried to get laid, but he wouldn’t have sex with me cause I was sloppy drunk. What a sweet guy, huh? So that was the beginning. We’ve been together for four years now. Seems so long ago.

Within the first two months of our relationship, he had his first drunken episode. We had driven my car to Newport, on the coast, to visit his mom’s old boyfriend. We went to a chowder house and the two of them had drinks, and all was well until the drive home. He somehow got fixated on the idea that the dentist I was working for at the time wanted to sleep with me. A totally absurd, baseless idea, but he just wouldn’t stop. He punched my windshield out while I was driving 60 mph 80 miles from home. He passed out and I drove home in silence. I don’t even remember what I was thinking at the time, but I remember what I was not thinking: that this was outrageous, off the wall , disturbing behavior and that I needed to run far and fast from this guy. That is what I was not thinking. Sad, isn’t it? My own dad would shudder to think that he had conditioned his own daughter to think that this was acceptable behavior. I knew it was fucked up, but I wasn’t as shocked as I might have been had my own daddy not been an alcoholic.

Michael is the man of my dreams. All of the things that make me difficult are things that he can tolerate. Isn’t that romantic? Really, though, I don’t know that there is another man that is so compatible with me. He is smart and patient and thoughtful. He works hard. He’s a wonderful daddy. He’s almost exactly like the man who raised me.

get a fucking job you piece of shit.....and I met a Weird Lady

2005-01-18T10:30:00.000-08:00

Links

Well, i'm going back into the automotive customer service deal. It should be better this time cause I'll be working for Honda instead of BMW, and Honda just has less pissed off people. They didn't pay 50,000 dollars for a car that sucks,so they are generally in better spirits. They also changed the dress code since I was there so now we can wear jeans EVERYDAY! Thank goodness. But sitting through a week of training is pretty excruciating.

The snow is melting today...it didn't budge from 19 degrees for like 5 days, then we wake up yesterday and it's 45 degrees. I came out into the living room that morning thinking that Michael had started a huge fire for me or something cause I didn't wake up in the middle of the night freezing my assss off, groping around for another blanket. But nope, it's just warm outside.

I didn't used to think that 45 degrees was warm, but a couple winters over here has changed my perspective.

So I was cooking at this burger joint a couple months ago. My good friend-girl worked there with me. Most of the people there were lacking basic intelligence and common sense....for instance: the other cook there is this 40 year old dude with the mentality of a fifteen year old boy. He tried to tell me once that Advil and ibuprofin were not the same thing. He tried to tell me that Detroit Lake was not a man made lake, and that in fact, there were NO man-made lakes in Oregon..... Well what's up with that big fucking DAM you drive by you fucking retard!!!! He also worships Bon Jovi, and his trademark saying was(he seriously said this to me like 25 times in the three months I worked there)"Bon Jovi can slow down a song, and sing it to give it a whole new meaning" and he would get teary-eyed just talking about it. This guy doesn't have alot to do with my whole point, but you could understand why I quit, right?

Anyway, there was also this seventeen year-old boy who I really got along with. He's just a really good kid...he's smart and has tact and is interested in learning things(which was the opposite of everyone else there). I met his mom, and she first struck me as a little weird...kind of intimidating, but more weird in a way I just couldn't put my finger on. Everyone said she was a weird lady, but we got along okay, and I thought that she was probably just socially retarded and came off wrong alot. My honey is kind of like that.

So i started working for her. She had a couple cleaning accounts. I started helping her clean the athletic club every night, and the laundrymat once in awhile. She was really easy to work for...she didn't follow me around and harass me. But it was hard to listen to her bitch about her kid's dad, and everything else. She is the kind of lady who is very bitter, and only sees things one dimentionally. I also started to see what an overbearing mother she was. If one of her kids didn't get a requested day off, she'd come down and bitch at our boss. If one of them didn't have enough hours, she'd come down and bitch at our boss. Her poor son....he was a very non-confrontational kid, and would get really embarrassed, but was helpless.

So one night were cleaning the athletic club, and she corners me(I swear she did) and asks me who I get my smoke from. I say, "Oh, just a friend in Bend", and she starts harrassing me..."Come on, I've been smoking pot for 25 years, I'm no narc..." and just like totally pressuring me. I was so angry at myself for telling her because I didn't want to, and I had been too weak to say no....I totally let her bully me, and that pissed me off. So I told her. The person in question happened to be my good friend-girl that I mentioned before.

So I get home from work that night and the first thing I do is call her, cause I felt icky about the whole thing, and I wanted her to know. She wasn't thrilled....since she was one of the people who told me that lady was weird, but it was no big deal. Then about a week later, this weird, stupid fucking lady goes up to my friend AT WORK and says, "I know what you do, and I won't tell anyone, but I really need an eighth." Oh my god. So my friend comes over after work, all upset cause this happened at work (keep in mind that the weird lady's son, who is straight edge, works there too, and this is not what my friend wants to be associated with at work), and because she had broken too. She didn't want to tell her 'yes' but she felt cornered and wussed out. (sounds familiar) And because she had already told her boyfriend that this lady was a freak, so she didn't want to come home doing business with the weird fuckin lady. So she ended up lying to her and saying that her boyfriend had a paranoid episode and got rid of it all, and gave her her money back. Which was fine, and worked out okay.

But this weird lady still owes me 40 dollars for cleaning.

A couple days after everything blew over, I went to bill collect her ass, so I could tell her just how immature and disrespectful I think she is. She didn't have my money, so I had to hold it all back. Then she lied to my face and said that my friend-girl had approached HER and jumbled the story all around. I couldn't believe that she was lying to me. She could have said something like:'sorry, i was jonesin real bad and fucked up' or something!!!!! So this was like two weeks ago, and she left me a message that since payday was a Saturday, and Monday was a holiday, she'd have my money this week. I stopped by there the day before yesterday, and she's still acting like nothing happened...is she just ignoring the good possibility that the other two of us ALREADY TALKED ABOUT IT? I mean, hello? So I am still waiting to tell her off. I am going to tell her that: 'everyone said you were a weirdo, but i gave you the benefit of the doubt cause i thought maybe you just come off wrong, but now i see that you are just a big fat-mouthed liar, and I believe now that everything you said about your ex was a lie, too, and (i have to fit this in there someplace) i feel sorry for your kids.'

So I don't know...my intuition was way off this time. I don't recall ever catching anyone lying to my face. I think I will go with the popular vote next time, just to see how that works for me. You can't be wrong everytime, right?

Edit-Me

'humiliation, so sweet' -or- 'this post should make up for all the terrible things I ever did, thought, or said'

2005-01-12T11:13:00.000-08:00

Links

So I moved to McMinnville, where I had all the friends and family that I needed. Things went real well for me there. I had my fake I.D. I was a party animal, spending all my tips at the bar after work. It was fun being the new girl in town. I had many options as far as the opposite sex went. I met my bestest girlfriend, Rama, and we shared a house together. It was the fun time in my life when I look back from where I am now. Sometimes I pine for the freedom I had then. When you are single, sooner or later you get lonely and start to hate it, but five years later, it seems like such a dream come true. I fell deeply in love for the first time around then. I met Him. He lived in a van. By choice, now, people. He was simple like that. A saving type. Didn’t believe in rent. He was everybody’s friend. Everyone loved Him. He played blues guitar. He traveled a lot. He would just pick up and drive to New Orleans. He was a free spirit. We only really dated for about a month. I wanted him so bad. He said that I had perfect breasts. He didn’t love me back, though. He was the kind of person who never talked badly of people. He avoided confrontation. I don’t even remember what he said, but I do remember my pitiful begging and pleading. I begged him to have sex with me outside of his dad’s house in my car one night. (This memory is stored in the ‘humiliation’ section of my memory library). I think he thought I wanted to snag him with a baby, which I didn’t (I was birth controlled) but he would only put it in the holiest of holes. Yup. I was so love sick that I didn’t care. I just wanted to be close to him. That was the one and only time that happened. Never again. Humiliation. At least the humiliation was self imposed. He didn’t talk shit. He is still my good friend to this very day, though it took me a year to get over it. He never made me feel foolish or like a stupid girl (the way I made myself feel) and he always treated my feelings with respect. He stuck it out because he really wanted to be my friend. He wasn’t just saying that. He was right in the long run anyhow, I realized later. What I wanted is what Michael gave me- a baby and a home and a family. He didn’t want those things. We would have ended up unhappy. He runs his dad’s tow yard now, and he still lives in a van.

Edit-Me

2005-01-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

if you can't beat 'em, join 'em

moving on with it.

2005-01-02T10:44:00.000-08:00

tittie fucking waah

2004-12-21T17:22:00.000-08:00

ugh

2004-11-29T01:24:00.000-08:00

as anyone could probably guess i am further ahead on this dumb life story thing than i post...the more i write, the more things i remember that seem so relevant to the person i see myself as, and it's really hard to put it all in chronological order since i am not a schooled writer and i don't know any other way to put it than chronologically.
and sometimes i feel icky about it.
you have all these thoughts in your head...all this perspective and all these beliefs about how events in your life really transpired, and writing it down has forced me to think about some things in different ways...i'm not really going anywhere with that thought, but i will just say that somedays i am afraid of anyone reading about my life, or the way i saw it, at least. i will keep posting, however, because it feels like letting it all go...giving it all to cyberspace...
i still feel...ugh...

Jimmy and the Grateful Dead show I never saw

2004-11-19T10:01:00.000-08:00

Needless to say, left to my own devices I got an early start on all those coming of age rituals that my eleven year old counterparts would not be so bold as to take part in. My best friend at that time was two years older that I, and had a brother that was a year older than her. We started out drinking in the garage after her mom went to sleep, and ended up doing naughty things with boys in just about no time at all. My best friends brother was the only person who wanted to show me any attention. We would talk about our parents and the injustices we had to endure. We wrestled a lot. So when you catch your daughter wrestling with the neighbor boy, take appropriate action. We would just cuddle sometimes and before long I was the only girl in the sixth grade who had gone ’all-the-way’. I felt special and better and smarter than all those girls I went to school with. I knew so much more than them. I was cool. It didn’t stay a secret for long. I told my mom one day, over lunch. She was more surprised than I think she had a right to be. She called the police and turned him in cause he was three years older than me. He couldn’t be alone with kids until he was 18. He was a kid himself. It wasn’t fair . We met secretly a couple times under the bleachers ( ha ha, seriously, though) and talked but after awhile quit talking. He was my good friend, and I felt very sad and guilty. They treated him like a rapist or something. He was older, and should have had better sense, I guess, but he was just as starved for positive attention as I was, so we were similar creatures with similar needs. I wanted to grow up too fast, though. I always felt like people ignored me because I was a kid. Didn’t value my existence or something. Anyhow, I became a pretty wild and promiscuous child from that point. I think my mom felt like it was already too late to prevent the worst, and as long as I kept taking my birth control and didn’t get arrested, I was on my own. It’s a wonder that I didn’t end up pregnant or incarcerated, but really, as wild as I was, I wasn’t stupid and only found myself in a couple dicey situations. Nothing too traumatic. I got used to being in charge of me. I want to write something here about Jimmy. Jimmy, a.k.a. Space, was my mom’s boyfriend for a couple of years. He lived with us. He was a space cadet with a heart of gold. He was thoughtful in a bumbling way, and he loved us all. Jimmy worked at a nursery supply manufacturing place and rode his bike eleven miles to work rain or shine. He bought us school clothes and gave us some money for our pockets (we only ever got food stamps from mom). He treated us all very well. When the nursery job ended (I don’t know why) he got a job with his brother 45 miles away in Portland, making cabinets. We would drive up and see him every weekend and he would take us all out to eat. He noticed if I did something new and dorky with my hair and said it looked nice. He was that kind of person. Kindness was his trademark. When he started working in Portland my mom started hanging out with a different crowd. She was using more and becoming resentful that Jimmy was always gone. He had a problem with cocaine and I remember her being angry that he spent all his money on it once. They started fighting a lot when he did come home. The last time I saw Jimmy he showed up at the house late at night. My mom had left somewhere but had told me not to let him in if he came because she thought he was on drugs (how ironic, mom). He banged on the door and wanted me to open it. I was kind of afraid…not of him, really, but of what he might say about my mom that would undoubtedly be true. I didn’t let him in. He said it was cold and he had no way to get back to the city and I still didn’t let him in. He slept on the porch all night without a blanket. I feel nauseated just thinking about it. I don’t think of it often. I should have let him in. He loved us. I wish I could find him and make him a part of my family. He deserved better.Meanwhile, my mom hit the bottom. She was using and selling meth to pay the rent, and by this time, I knew what she was up to. She had been busted for possession of marijuana after running a yellow light and was on probation. Now my mom was the only dreadlocked, Volkswagen driving momma in the whole county, so when they got a chance to pull over the van with the ‘bad cop no donut’ sticker, they thanked their lucky stars. She had to go and take a u.a. for her probation officer one day and told me that if she was not back in two hours to clean out all of her stash and paraphernalia from her bedroom, lest her p.o. decided to do a home visit. Sure enough, I had to clean it all out and put it in my own room. Mom spent two days in jail for a dirty u.a. We were partners in crime. Weird, huh? When I was 13, we went to Las Vegas to see the Grateful Dead. This was , in her mind, I think, a coming of age ritual for me. She knew I was smoking weed and partying and up until that point she had made it clear that I’d better hide it from her. The funny thing was that I was only allowed to smoke pot; mom was totally against me doing anything else- even smoking cigarettes. Even after we got to the point where I could just walk right into her room and borrow her bong, I still got grounded if she caught me smoking cigarettes. I wonder how she rationalized that. This trip to Vegas was the first time I smoked in front of her. It was also the first time I took the rap for her. This guy Jaime was driving her V-dub, frying on acid, when we pulled into a small town called Alturas, California at about 1 a.m. He came to a flashing red light and stopped….then he just sat there, watching the light blink. Mom told him, “You can go now” but he only sat and stared. Then a honk came from behind. Just a nice courtesy honk. He continued to sit. Mom and the two other guys with us start yelling at him to go go go. The car honks again. It seems like an eternity , but Jaime finally goes. Then the lights begin to flash. We had a cop behind us. They pulled us over and my mom said, “tell them that my bag is yours”. I believe that the cops knew better, but the good little actress that I was, I got written a ticket for possession of more than an ounce of marijuana, possession of illegal prescription drugs, and get this- intent to distribute. They then released me to the custody of my mother. People might get the impression that she is some kind of terrible monster. I used to think that myself, but now I know that she is only a person, and she had her own lessons to learn. She had been with my dad since she was a kid, and had never been in charge of her own life. Sounds like an excuse, I know.

is it the past or is it the truth?

2004-11-18T10:13:00.000-08:00

My dad has a work ethic like no one I have ever known. His hands are like some religious shrine in my mind. If I had to isolate one quality that my father had imparted on me, I would have to say respect. Respect for me, respect for you, respect for society at large. When I was 13, a bunch of my friends decided to lie in the middle of a busy street to piss off the people driving their cars. Yeah, it was funny and all, but I couldn’t do it, not because I was afraid of getting my ass busted by my dad, but because it was stupid and disrespectful and I was far too grown up to do something like that. I have a lot of respect and admiration for my dad. It took awhile for me to accept and acknowledge the good things about my dad. He is an alcoholic. I remember being very young….six or seven years old, and hiding out in the blackberry bushes when my dad’s truck pulled in the driveway. He often stopped at the bar after work and we never knew what kind of disposition we would be facing that night. My dad was a mean drunk. He called names, and gave everyone the evil eye. I wouldn’t say that we were physically abused, but his punishments were harsh. We (my sister and I) were spanked bare ass probably around once a week. It was some creepy kind of ritual, looking back on it now. We shared a room, and who ever wasn’t getting their ass whooped had to roll over and look at the wall while the other cried. It was like some twisted thing. Maybe he meant it to be a deterrent to keep us from acting like little shits, or maybe he never put that much thought into it. There were many times he would sneak up behind you when you were doing something wrong, for instance, peeling paint off of the windowsill or something like that and he would thump you right behind the ear with his hard, wide, thick ass middle finger. He wouldn’t even say anything to you…just a quick, painful thump on the soft spot behind your ear. As much respect as my dad taught me, I don’t really think that he treated us that way. I don’t think he thought of us as actual people. Without conveying the wrong idea, I want to say that he treated us a lot like he treated the dog. His goal was to train us. I have never doubted that my dad loves me. He has always been there. He has a great sense of humor, and can be fun to be around. He is a dirty old man. I grew up a few years ago and stopped feeling angry about the effect his alcoholism has had in my life.My parents were together for 13 years. They split when I was ten. I was so happy when they sat us down and told us. Isn’t that twisted. I couldn’t wait. My dad had sat us all down a couple months before that and showed us a can of non-alcoholic beer. He said that he was sorry that he was so mean sometimes and told us that alcohol made him feel angry and that he was going to stop drinking alcoholic beer because he didn’t want us to be afraid of him anymore. It didn’t last. The sad thing is, at that age you don’t really know what ’drunk’ is and it just seems so normal. Even when he said that beer made him mean, I never associated his moods with alcohol. The whole cycle of drunken episode after drunken episode was normalcy as we saw it. That’s just what daddies did. I guess a lot of kids growing up in a combative, hostile environment are relieved when it’s over. But I always felt guilty like I was betraying my dad by feeling free and happy. Walking on eggshells was something he trained us to do, intentionally or not, and the relief that came when mom swept that shit off the floors was a big source of guilt for me. Children, after all are supposed to think that divorce is all their fault and be devastated and pine for the old days of parental co-habitation. I knew it was my dad’s fault, though, and I was glad to be away from him. He was scary. That was how he wanted to bring us up. Scared. Maybe that was all he knew how to do.My mother had a much more permissive style of parenting. I think she felt like a released prisoner herself, after all the years of isolation…my dad disabling her cars and sabotaging any part time jobs she had. My brother was 2 when my parents separated. He’s the only reason I think it went on for two more years. My mom started going to GED classes, and got on welfare and housing to pay the bills. She started to make friends and go out to party on the weekends. I was more responsible that the average ten year old and ended up being responsible for my younger siblings a lot of the time. I liked it enough. It made me feel important. This was around the time that my relationship with my mom began to change. She started treating me like an equal. She made me feel like it was our responsibility to take care of the kids and our house; she made me feel like a partner in that. I liked it. I liked it that she thought I was grown up enough to be in charge of something. As I got older, I became less and less accountable to my mother. She rarely asked where I was going or any of the related questions. Sometimes I would be gone for a couple days out of town with friends and I don’t think she even missed me. She was partying pretty regularly, and she started doing a little meth here and there. I had no knowledge at this early point, but it got worse and worse. She had always smoked a little pot, and never hid it from us. It was her version of drinking a beer is how I remember thinking of it….only she didn’t get pissed off and scare us after she had a bong hit.

Speaking of me....

2004-11-17T22:30:00.000-08:00

I decided the other night that I wanted to write something meaningful. Meaningful to me anyhow. When I was a teenager I wrote with such urgency. Teenage angst can be useful in this way….I used to scribble for hours. Nothing terribly interesting, though. It has been years since I perused over those beat up, sometimes duct taped spiral notebooks. In a way, I am kind of ashamed of them. There is nothing out of the ordinary or overly disturbing, I’m sure. I’ve never really gotten a second opinion. Don’t really want one. No, nothing to worry about. But I do know that I have a big, hot ball of shame that is associated with those books, and the idea that someone may read them makes me want to crawl under a rock. I’m not sure why. I must keep them, however. To throw them away would be a crime against myself. Maybe when my own daughter joins the ranks of the angry, desperate, dangerously anxious teenagers I can show her my notebooks and she will believe I was a real person one time, long, long ago. Or not. When I was a teenager, words poured out of me. I feel like I had far more to write about. I wanted to identify with someone so badly, I often wrote to a nameless, faceless, sexless person in my mind. After all, someone had to read it. The shame came from my phantom reader, who without a word was constantly critical. Which makes sense when I remind me that I am the phantom reader. So the notebooks sit as a reminder of the time when I felt so alive that I could create. Is mental anguish the only fuel that will feed my fire? I think that it may be so.
I was born in Phoenix, Arizona, in the spring. My mother met my father in Billings, Montana three years before that. She had run away from my grandfather and his abusive wife when she was eleven. My grandmother worked three jobs and just couldn’t be there enough. My grandma is by far the most positive person I have had in my life. Like my mother, I was a fiercely independent child, and my grandma never turned her back on me….but I’m getting ahead of myself. My mother had hitchhiked to Montana with a friend from the job corps, and met my biker gang papa at a kegger. How cliché. She was 16 and he was 23. She needed someone older and wiser to make her feel like she could stop running, I guess. My dad taught my mom how to add, subtract and multiply. She is a very intelligent woman, but had never gone to school. Their relationship is a mystery to me in a lot of ways. I don’t remember ever seeing my parents sit on the couch and cuddle or kiss each other hello and goodbye. ( A couple months later I tell my dad this and after a thoughtful moment he confirms it. He looks kind of sad. It makes me sad. I kind of hoped that maybe I just didn‘t remember). My dad was born in South Dakota and raised in Billings his whole life. He was the third oldest in a family of seven kids. They lived up in the hills of Billings back in the Fifties. They didn’t have running water and had to have a weekly bath night just like Little House on the Prairie. Fun, huh? My dad’s parents are still together, and living in Montana. I’ve only been to see them twice. Once when I was nine and again at thirteen. I have guilt associated with that now. They are getting older and I feel I have a responsibility to present them their great-granddaughter. It is always lack of funds, every year, that keeps us from going. And doesn’t that just sound pathetic? My dad is a no bullshit, sometimes painfully frank kind of guy. He does not believe in banks or doctors. He is a very talented welder, well known in his field. He makes shitloads of money but drives a couple old beaters and buys poor people food like ham hocks for dinner. Now being a poor person myself I would like to say that ham hocks and beans are very good, I eat them all the time, and I certainly have not forgotten where I come from, but I only think that after all his years of back breaking, blistering work he would renounce ham hocks all together and eat the more expensive cuts of meat. But there’s my mentality on money for you.

the whole weeekend

2004-08-03T10:07:00.000-07:00

the whole weekend was an exercise in partying and realizing that i am not as old as i feel.
i stayed up till 5am, drank a gallon of beer, smoked 800 ciggarettes, scrounged up nickels and dimes for some late nite taco bell.
just like the old days.
i haven't been away from hazel in a long time. it's hard to remember the individual thats left somewhere inside after you have babies.
she's still there, she just doesn't get alot of time or attention she used to.
while i did enjoy having 72 whole hours to live life on my agenda, i also realized that i am far more comfortable at home with my baby than at the bar with everybody you slept with in high school(either directly or indirectly).

i'm glad to be home

something to do on a rainy day

2004-07-28T09:28:00.000-07:00

this will be fun for you. you should do it. you will like it

25 more

2004-07-27T10:07:00.000-07:00

26) i hate long toenails
27) i like long fingernails
28) i prefer water to any other beverage
29) i am loud
30) i drive 70 mph everywhere i go
31) i can't fall asleep without a radio or t.v. on
32) i have a tattoo on my belly of a frog on a raspberry
33) i always refer to my husband as honey and now so does everyone else
34) the only photo of myself that i like is from when i was pregnant
35) perfect teeth bother me
36) i am a dental assistant
37) i often put myself out to help others and then find myself all alone when i need help
38) i am bad with money
40) i should stay out of casinos, but i don't
41) i need a larger vocabulary
42) i need a good book to read
43) the one book i have re- read the most throughout my life: 'the eyes of the dragon' by stephen king
44) i prefer a manual transmission
45) my favorite movie: 'the princess bride'
46) my other favorite: 'goodfellas'
47) my all time favorite album: 'paul simon- graceland'
48) my other all time favorite:'alice in chains-unplugged'
49) in college i got a 'c' in english and an 'a' in spanish
50) i can't remember enough spanish to order a meal

what's wrong with me?

2004-07-26T15:34:00.000-07:00

okay, so i had this crappy job calling BMW owners for customer satisfaction surveys, and it was lame, but i could color and do crosswords, so it was tolerable. i met some really nice peeps, and we started hanging out at my place from time to time.
so i met this girl, and i liked her alot. she wasn't a dumb chick like some of them are, and since all of my good friends are males around here, i was cool with the idea of becoming friends with this girl.
we hung out a few times; she came over to bbq, we went for beers another time. but she started calling me like 4 times a day, and always at a bad time. i have friends that i talk to 4 times a day, but not everyday, and i've known them a really long time.
she would always call and call, asking me to go do this or that with her. now, having a 2 year old i was not always avaliable, but even when i was, i always said no.
she hasn't called in a month, probably, and i really feel bad because she was a nice girl who i had things in common with, but i just didn't have the attention to spare. why i feel like i can't afford the energy it takes to become close friends with someone...i don't know, but i just feel like an asshole. it's not like my life is packed with exciting things to do or people to talk to....in fact, lately, the most stimulating conversations i've had were online, not even in real time....which sounds totally retarded to anyone who has frequent conversation in real life (and to me as well). i thought about calling her the other day, but i think it's too late, cause i have NEVER called HER anyways.....i'm a lame-o, i guess

100 things

2004-07-26T10:02:00.000-07:00

damnit! i am a somewhat slow typist; i finished the 1st 25 the other night and blogger wouldn't blog so i lost it all. which brings me to #1....

1) i usually learn the hard way
2) i crave the interesting
3) i don't like olives or fish
4) i prefer ranch to ketchup
5) i'd like to emigrate to canada cause they serve gravy with fries
6) i like to make up words
7) like fantabulistic and
8) herpagohnasyphyllaids
9) i like to smoke, and i do
10) i don't drink often
11) i am an especially obnoxious drunk person
12) i can't hold my liquor
13) must travel to: pompeii, italy
14) must avoid at all costs: Texas
15) my husband is prettier than me :)
16) i love to take photos
17) i need a digital camera
18) i've been arrested once, when i was 16
19) i can't run very fast :P
20) the only jewelry i care for is rings...on toes, in ears, on fingers
21) i shave my legs, but not my armpits
22) i shaved my head last summer
23) i think i have nerve damage from rubbing my head too much
24) i have booger paranoia (bat in the cave?)
25) the softest part on my body is my upper, inner arm ( feel yours)

2004-07-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

isn't it sad? FREE FLUFFY NOW!!

2004-07-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

yeah, baby

today

2004-07-23T10:07:00.000-07:00

today is HOT. it is 101 degrees out. the breeze is blowing like a heater into my house. hazel got her first big girl panties yesterday, but she keeps peeing in them. she does fine in just clothes with no diaper, but for some reason, she still hasn't gotten the point. needless to say, i've had a pissy morning:P
i have real coffee again, and i am very thankful for it as i will never be drinking peppermint coffee again for the rest of my life. this post is coming out to be very uninteresting and dull, so i will quit while i'm ahead(i really am behind, i think, but 'quit while i'm behind' doesn't sound too good and i'm not feeling much more creative than that).

2004-07-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

this guy's mother is probably foaming at the mouth

2004-07-22T12:33:00.000-07:00

finally, a cell phone that we all know how to use

2004-07-22T12:32:00.000-07:00

bad city planning...or the best practical joke EVER!!!!!1

2004-07-22T12:30:00.000-07:00

everyone has boogers, but they don't all have the manners to pick them in private...with a tissue...

2004-07-22T12:29:00.000-07:00

oh, nevermind....

2004-07-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

awww, how nice...he let his date sit in front while he 'rides bitch'...

2004-07-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

is honesty the Best Policy?

2004-07-22T12:26:00.001-07:00

this is a nightmare i already had....

2004-07-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

i think this one's gonna give me nightmares

2004-07-22T12:25:00.000-07:00

this is soooo cute......i want a big titten pooner just like this one

2004-07-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

hahahahahahaha...it would be alot funnier if i wasn't one of those people that IS running win

2004-07-22T12:22:00.000-07:00

no shit.

birth control....

2004-07-22T11:00:00.000-07:00

ahhh, birth control. my favorite. Hazel turned 2 a couple weeks ago and the time just flies. it's very odd when you sit down and analyze your own childhood in relation to the fact that a whole new childhood is unfolding before you. there are alot of experiences that you want to sheild your kids from, but you can't. and i think back to alot of the things my mom never knew and realize that it all came out pretty well, and i'm not sure if it was dumb luck that nothing terrible ever happened to me considering some of the situations i put myself in, or if i was really as smart as i thought.
and that brings me back to birth control. it is the biggest challenge that anyone could face to bring up an intelligent, empathetic, responsible person. you can't control every aspect of their experience, so you resign yourself to that fact, but it's giving them the right tools that you must worry about.
the thought of having any more children in this world just doesn't appeal to me. especially considering that there are, in my opinion, just as many stupid and cruel people in the world, if not more, as good people.
a good example was this movie, 'the butterfly effect' that we viewed last weekend. it was very good and original, i thought, but the premise was that childhood experience leads ultimately to what you become in your adult life, and in the movie, one character had the ability to go back in time, already knowing the outcome of events that had already taken place, and change them. meaning well, he tries to repair the damaged lives of his friends, only to make things worse. which brings me to my point...meaning well is one thing, but you never know the true outcome until it's too late.
there are gaggles of stupid, cruel people out there procreating, not thinking once about cause and effect, raising children who will grow to be fucked up individuals who will in turn spawn more fucked up individuals who will cause pain and destruction in the lives of the ones i love.
and the really terrible part is, the same people who i would say are raising their babies all wrong would likely say the same about me. the world is a really fucked up and scary place, after you add people to the equation. i adore my daughter.
My Solemn Oath To The World:
i promise that i shall not bear any more children onto this planet, and i apologize in advance if hazel alice june grows to be a nuclear scientist or a theologist or any other evil practice.
as for me, i say IUD!!!!!!!!!

2004-07-20T10:32:00.000-07:00

this pic really captures my imagination. it is mt. vesuvius, in italy. i have always been fascinated with pompei and the volcano. it is supposedly still active. the moments caught in time at pompei....makes my brain water...so this is the one place in the world that i know i have to visit sometime.

2004-07-20T10:24:00.000-07:00

isn't this a good one? this is the eclipse we had in '99...wasn't it a lunar one? i can't remember, but this is a photo taken from MIR.

for you....

2004-07-20T09:30:00.000-07:00

check out this blog, there's good photos here and since i did put some of them here...i could link you, niknox

2004-07-19T14:01:00.000-07:00

Here I am...you can barely make out Hood River...from Mt. Hood to the Three Sisters is about 200 miles, I think, but don't take my word for it cause I don't usually drive north to get in to Portland, I go west to Salem first.

tahw eht lleh?

2004-07-17T16:09:00.000-07:00

so this will confuse you.
google, if spelled backwards brings you to the backwards google search engine. okaaaaaay. and if you type in your search backwards, all of your results will come in .....
ELGOOG

who is jack schitt?

2004-07-16T19:27:00.000-07:00

Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says, “You
don’t know Jack Schitt!” Read on and you’ll be able to handle the situation intelligently.

Jack is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, a partner of Kneeddeep & Schitt, Inc..

Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, and the deeply religious couple begat 6 children: Holie Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt, Bull Schitt and the twins, Deap Schitt and Dip Schiitt

Against her parents’ wishes, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout.
After 15 years of marriage, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married a Mr. Sherlock, and out of devotion to her children, decided to hyphenate her last name and became Noe Schitt-Sherlock.

Dip Schitt married a woman named Loda Dung, who became Loda Schitt. The couple produced a nervous son, Chicken Schitt.

Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, inseparable throughout childhood, subsequently married the Happens brothers. The local newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding, which was quite an event. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg, Burd and Hoarse.

Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He returned from his travels with his Italian bride, Piza Schitt.

So now if someone says “You don’t know Jack Schitt”, you can beg to differ. You not only know Jack Schitt but everyone on the Schitt list!

2004-07-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

i almost died laughing at this one

this guy can write...

2004-07-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

i think about my blog all the time lately. i have seen ALOT of really good ones belonging to talented people, this is one of my favorites, this guy can write. i find myself checking throughout the day to see if there's something new...it's like a book that you can't wait to return to. read it, then come back and post your agreement.

Framed

2004-07-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

i think i will not have any peppermint coffee this morning. it just doesn't even appeal. i started a small fire in my toaster when i lit my ciggarette on it this morning. i forgot to pop it up when i was done and a big chunk of carmelized onion off of a previously roasted bagel caught fire. i started to smell some thing good in the air...i came back in and it was ablaze. my 2 year old daughter came in and pointed at it; 'hot' she says. well, yeah, that 's hot. now i need a new toaster.
i don't know what it is , but i go thru alot of toasters. i have only actually been in a position to own my own toaster for about 8 years now, but if i have it straight, i must have gone thru at least 4, maybe 5 toasters. a couple of them did just spontaneously quit working, but i lost two of them to cat piss. yes, it is very foul, i know. there's nothing like the smell of roasted cat piss in the morning. it will clear out just about anyone from just about anywhere. my friends cat was living with me while he tried to get his shit together and he(the cat, named siggabob-boo) started this pissing war with with my cat and two of my toasters was the cost of that conflict. at this time i still had 8(eight) cats, yes, i know that's a ridiculous quantity of kitties, but the just kept coming???? anyhow, i now am down to one kittie cause when i moved here to the high desert from the valley they all got eaten by various desert creatures. the only one left is the one i don't like. his name is shitty kitty. he got that name because right around the time he showed up, there were litte kittie turds all over. but we have come to find out since then that he was framed- he does not need a litterbox even now and does all of his business out of doors. but the reason i can't stand himis because he never shuts up. i do not get a cat so that it can bitch and howl at me constantly but apparently that was his understanding of the deal...

turn left

2004-07-15T15:09:00.000-07:00

this is so much fun! this is a website concerning liberal politics, but the fun part is that you cancreat your own off the wall conspiracy theory. check it out

i love pop-up blocker!

2004-07-15T14:18:00.000-07:00

I love my new pop-up blocker from msn. i havn't had a pop-up invade my space and time since i d/l it.

2004-07-15T13:36:00.000-07:00

a beautiful blue marble quietly repeating it's ancient route

2004-07-15T13:33:00.000-07:00

hurricane claudette on the coast of texas...beautiful destruction

2004-07-15T13:31:00.000-07:00

guadalupe island in mexico shaping the clouds...max. elevation 4500 feet

2004-07-15T13:29:00.000-07:00

aurora over australia...what a wonderful world

curious about astronomy?

2004-07-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

this is my new favorite site. it's full of all kinds of good questions like is there sound in space and other simple questions with delightfully complicated answers. you can even post your own questions and have them answered by an astronomer...check it out!

The Mopping of the Floor

2004-07-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

I do have to say that Swiffer is probably the single most ingenious invention of our time. It's time to mop the floor and I actually get a little giddy cause I get to play with my swiffer. It's the housewife's best friend, I tell you. And when I am finished, i get to rip off the oversized maxi pad full of dirt and other even grosser stuff, view it, wrinkle my face in disgust, and throw it in the trash. You see, to me, seeing the dirt on the pad is like my reward, and this is a kind of gratification that you never got with your old-fashioned mop and bucket. You would mop and wring, mop and wring, then mop and wring again, try not to throw your back out lifting the bucket to dump it, and then stand there and puzzle as you dump the yuck muck down the sink, 'how on god's green earth could this floor possibly be any cleaner that when i started now that i have diluted the dirt with pine-sol and spread it all over my floor?' Praise be to swiffer and any swiffer reps out there who want to send me some free pads(those bastards made them so spendy cause they KNEW we'd be junked out on them).

peppermint coffee

2004-07-15T10:04:00.000-07:00

I have been drinking peppermint coffee for a week now. Someone gave it to us and I know why they did, now. I am about to freak out. I enjoy foofie, flavored coffees once in a while, but come on...peppermint is a whole nother deal. After i brushed my teeth this morning, instead of the coffee washing the taste of toothpaste out of my mouth, the peppermint coffee just intensified the refreshing flavor, which you know, if i wanted my mouth to taste refreshing, i would quit smoking (hahaha). And being how today is rent day, you can bet that i don't have a dimeto go getanyother variety. I think that peppermint coffee should be avaliable ONLY during the holiday season so as not to ruin that silly little bit of excitement i would have had had i been drinking peppermint coffee in the snow, at Christmastime. And that's all i have to say about that....:P

2004-07-14T12:56:00.000-07:00

Isn't that Hubble Telescope the coolest thing?

2004-07-14T12:52:00.000-07:00

My Boyfriend Has Run Away...like a horny devil after some blonde tart. If you have any information about this woman or my now ex-boyfriend Ingo Lenz, 32, shower curtain salesman, please write to me under the heading: GET_YOUR_ASS_BACK_HOME_LOVERBOY.............P.S. Ingo, if you read this, just to let you know that all of your garbage is out with the garbage and they come on Thursday.

Killer photos of all kinds

2004-07-14T10:41:00.000-07:00

This place is full of science related pics...I found some neat ones that sparked my interest...check it out.

2004-07-14T10:40:00.000-07:00

check this out

For the tired masses...

2004-07-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

I am going to include here my pc first aid kit. When I was stuck in the mud, having had all sorts of viruses and spyware and trojans, these are the programs that healed me. Done with Kazaa? Learned your lesson the hard way? Click here for a Kazaa remover
Also, this is a link for a free program called Spybot: Search and Destroy. It removes most of the nasties, but not always all of them, so other programs are a good idea.
SpySweeper is another one I use to back up Spybot. What one won't remove, the other generally will.
When you do find a little bugger, this is a library of all of the known ones (I guess) but either way you can learn more about your problem.
And to cut this short, this last one is an online virus scan that's free, I have more stuff to try if none of these fix it...let me know...

How Stuff Works

2004-07-14T09:53:00.000-07:00

A very sweet lady gave me this link, it is full of all kinds of info from computer info to how a diesel engine works to how does water become carbonated.

A Joke a Day

2004-07-14T09:47:00.000-07:00

This is a pretty good site; I've found some of my best ones here...

2004-07-13T19:44:00.000-07:00

yes, people this is an actual picture of the Sombrero Galaxy...isn't that somethin else?

2004-07-13T19:34:00.000-07:00

jacob is in florida, doing what we'd all rather be...

2004-07-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

this is the earth at night from outer space...Africa is still so dark....I think of all of the people there...

2004-07-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

saturn's aurora's, courtesy Hubble Space Telescope

2004-07-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

jacob and daddy @ amanda's

2004-07-13T13:50:00.000-07:00

do you have to be under the age of four to do this?

something clever?

2004-07-13T09:54:00.000-07:00

Well, now, this puts a bit of pressure on me, doesn't it? I will take a solemn oath
today to try to be as clever as I am able, for the sake of entertaining all of you who will/will not be reading this. I will however, say right now that I can not be held responsible for: rolling of eyes so that they get stuck, choking on any material as a direct result of ha-ha-ing and/or guffaw-ing, general irritation, and instances of your pc suddenly commiting suicide by jumping (hmmm...) out the two story window. And now that the leagalspeak is out of the way.....