Monday, July 21, 2008

Ooops I did it again...

Um no, sorry no Brittney school girl here...more like Beaver makes his first appearance at the summer solstice, drunken shadow puppets, olympic deck tryouts, schmear shadows, bad Bo Bice impersonators, bald birds and more clams. Absolutely all being very blog of my own worthy and little miss procrastination will now attempt to cram them all into one.


The Summer Solstice Party -

Its a long awaited event...Beaver makes his first blog appearance. Beaver for those of you that don't know is my alter ego. Yes to the unsuspecting eye he appears to be a stuffed animal but he is in fact quite vocal and quite charming. Most everyone close to me have heard the Beav's rants about life, movie reviews or just his plain COMPLETELY unfiltered opinions. He sounds a bit Cartman-ish. I am aware that my need for mental evaluation is going to be out there on the table for all to see. As Nan just told me recently when I told the bartender that I needed beer caps to make Beaver a pointy Madonna bra..."you just peaked his interest or played your crazy as hell card". I was ragingly sober when I made the request btw...and I'm pretty sure that it was the crazy bitch card that he saw.


Anyways, we threw a Summer Solstice party (we being Nan & me...and of course Beaver attended). It wound up getting rained out and a rouge gale force wind knocked Beav off the deck and into the mulch but not before a photo opp.




I would have taken one of him doing the mulch crawl but I heard a shriek and Nan was already in the yard to his rescue before I knew what was going on....he of course cussed us out for not having more safety precautions in place. He insisted that I leave the flames from the tiki torch in the pic...thought it made him look dare devilish. He's kicking it in his little belly shirt. (which Mr Man brought him from a road trip) As you can see...those close to me find him very endearing. Moving on to a more sane story...

Working on a Monday hangover....

The following incidents may or may not have occurred. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.


So Sunday evenings tend to be gather on the deck & make use of the newly acquired ice bucket nights. (This newly acquired ice bucket was found at the very back of cabinet at the beach...I'm thinking it was a wedding gift of my parents.) Poor ice bucket. Its 40 years old and just now getting to live its dream of attributing to deck drunkenness....its catching on well though.

It all started as uneventful and innocent as any other Sunday...Me and the Nanner (secret spy name) deck, rum, satellite radio, ice bucket, talk of work or idiots or whatever else we need to cover....then it happened. She did a wicked adirondak dismount. I instinctly held my score above my head. Her reply " And a score of 9 from the liberal Cuban judge!" The dog ran...first out of fear of being landed on...then because the bipeds appeared to be close to self implosion. Funny thing about us is that we both snort when we laugh. When the snorting subsided and it was obvious that she had settled back into the plasty adirondak seemingly an abandon of her original plan, I asked - Where the hell were you going?--"Beijing" was the answer. Something to be said for cat like reflexes and wit. It was the beginning of a long night...


It was the scene of the first official drunk deck dancing to "sneakin a freakin" and soon after the shadow puppets on the back of my house via tiki torch ...my neighbors love me. When its not something like this Mr Man likes to bark and stir up the dogs in the neighborhood... Now I know everyone tends to think I'm the crazy one. Crazy as in say anything and not give a damn - yes. Crazy as in sneakin a freakin shadow puppet - no. I leave that job to my very unsuspecting PC friend. And yes, she was quite successful at achieving the original goal of Monday hangover.



Mom's 40th Birthday will be the reason for $10k worth of therapy

Friday night I ventured out to karaoke, not that I meant to. I am like the worse date in the world to take to karaoke. I laugh and I can't help it....like loud. A chick from work was in town and we wanted to grab a drink. I in my best hermit attempt to not get more than 3 miles from the house suggested the local shithole unbeknownst to me was the scene of a birthday party/soft porn with my barely teenage kids present redneck loving nastiness. Dear god...its a wonder I ever leave the house. The dude was a Bo Bice impersonator (meaning he had used to look to get laid on at least a couple of occasions or I'll kiss your ass) the chick had a drunken aged out Darryl Hanna look to her. In a different setting...say one where they could stand on their own and weren't trying to perform live sex acts at the table with the entire family present they probably wouldn't have been a bad looking couple...but alas that were not the case. So chicky is in knee length white shorts and at some point gets out there to dance...obviously forgetting why she had been sitting on his lap the whole time. Yep...its my birthday and the chinese man brought me a surprise. Dude. Being a girl I know that its not something terribly challenging to keep up with...and if for some really unfortunate reason you don't do well with the keeping up with it you promptly exit stage left. OH HELL NO...it was her birthday and she was staying. She got gone for a while...I was hoping to god that someone had come up with a Tide to go pen or something but nope...the schmear was developing its own shadow. And she just kept piling up on that dudes lap. I'm sure he was a DNA luminal nightmare before he got home to shout that mess out. Not to mention the odds of him scoring, celebrity look a like or not, were pretty slim. The Nasty Meter was pegged. And the 13 year olds got to witness it all. Picked up the contents of moms purse that spilled out several times. Obviously they didn't have to worry about the embarrassment of chasing a tampon around on the floor.....



Freak of Nature of a Nature Freak?

So check this out. This is either a "its really hot, f my comb" or a political extremist cardinal....freaky. But I dig his individuality. Rock on bad ass state bird.

And the clams....

The only reason this is last is for the sheer sake of chronological order. Mr Man shows up with not just 4 dozen monster clams....but she crab soup, crab cakes and a real live made from scratch Key Lime Pie. The only favorite thing of mine that was missing was pickled eggs but they wouldn't have gone with the pie. I'm easy to excite and jump up and down when I get that way....this made me jump. I don't know where he came from but I'm certainly glad he decided to land on planet Semi Crazy Hermit Girl. I happen to have just enough dock space.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

OMG I can't believe I forgot to drunk scribble this!

Good God I left out the best part! Step back crabcakes....you have just been replaced as my all time can not pass up food. Welcome to my new contender of the best frickin thing ever put on this earth....CLAMS!!! (and yes I have already quizzed Mr Man about hunter/gathering these too...he pointed out that when you can buy them already all dug up and washed and pretty for like $3.50 a dozen I should just consider a shopper/gather mode instead). Saturday we ventured out for beer and oysters (which I also just discovered in the last year and had a similar but much much milder reaction to) and Mr Man ordered a dozen clams. OMFG there are no words to describe....I swear that I will eat clams every week for the rest of my life. WHERE THE HELL HAVE I BEEN??? I guess you've already figured that we ordered another dozen.... Bad thing about me...I kinda get stuck on things. So for the entire rest of the day our conversations were littered with tourette's like clam outbursts. Completely random in the middle of a sentence and they were accompanied by arm gestures. So when we got back to the house....I was sent for salted butter (this crap is god in solidified stick form....and will unfortunately send you to see him at a much too young age) and Mr Man went and got us 4 dozen clams!!! We steamed them on the grill and ate until we almost yakked. In case you were wondering, 2 clam obsessed adults can only hold 4 dozen clams and 4 slaughtered crabs.....thats it...trust me do not try to cross the border.

I just had to pass this along...If you are one of the poor lost sheltered souls that has never tried clams, DROP WHAT YOU ARE DOING and get your ass to the closest clam bake. You will thank me later.

Inner Tomboy shows face again...

You know...I tend to have the same issue with posting timely blogs as I do making plans. Cumbersome. I do however drunk scribble down stuff that I want to be sure I get in them. The interpretation process is a bit of a challenge some days (ie. today)

Well the freckly tomboy version of me came out to go fishing for the 4th. Well actually she came out the night before when I learned to rig baits. This is really similar to cleaning crabs on a smell scale but over all involves less guts but more fish poop. We used Ballyhoo...first you crack their little backs like you are a fish chiropractor...this makes them swim floppy and not like a dead rigormortis has done set in fish. Then you hold the pin up to the fish lips and see where you need the hook to come out of the belly. You stick the hook in under the left gill and work it down til it pops out where your mark is, then you tuck the weight up in the gil...poke the pin up through his mouth out the top and rubberband his little ass on. Then you salt them down with some kind of bionic fishy stuff ...the label says its a really bad idea to eat it (this was pointed out to me when I suggested Mr Man taste it....I'm an idiot). The main objective is to get the hook in straight so the little fish swims right and fools the big fish into thinking that it is just out for a stroll and not flip around and spin circles like he's on crack. Somewhere in this learning experience I figured out that all little ballyhoo die needing to take a big ole crap and most of them did it on me.

So what better thing to do when you have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go off shore fishing... Stay up til like 1 something and get drunk. Nice move. We got on the water about 6:30 and it didn't take long to figure out it was either going to be a really rough or really short day. We were planning on going out about 50 miles but couldn't make any time with the rough water. There was talk of going back to bed. This is tragic to even think when you still smell like bait and fish poop from the night before. I pouted enough to be convincing and we headed in the other direction so that we weren't dead into the waves and found a spot to put lines in. None of my baits were crack fish! I was so excited. I know this comes as a major surprise to anyone who knows me but I take instruction very well and caught on pretty good at how to work the back of the boat. The wind finally let up and the seas laid down to almost flat so we packed up and headed out to about 35 miles.

We didn't get much along the line of fish but the day couldn't have been more perfect. It was just me and Mr Man. 35 miles seperated me from the stupidity of life and society and acceptance and obligations. Where else can you be and not have another living soul within miles and miles of you...Nothing but water and dreams. On a normal day we talk non stop to each other, some where along the way that day we realized that we had barely spoken. All I can figure is that its the only place where both of our minds are free enough to not need words. 35 miles or a million it wouldn't have mattered.

The wind picked back up and we called it a day. To say the ride back in was interesting is a bit of an understatement. There never was fear but an incredible sense of wow at the massive effortless power of water.

Mr Man's day after comment - "Its good to be a couple sometimes and just best friends others....yesterday on the boat we were best buddies"

And thats awesome.

I will never take life and love for granted.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

the complete lack of being able to make a plan...

Well, we have tried and tried for the past week to make plans for the 4th....to absolutely no avail. I've decided that plans have become very cumbersome to me. As a matter of fact, I'm almost positive that this has been a life long problem that I am just not coming to grips with. I am fully aware that I have always sucked at making plans but just now am figuring out the depth of it. I'm going to steer away from the surface view that I may have a issue with committing to something....I'm gonna put my vote on unknown planetary sources...being an Aries. It always makes me feel better to think that some things about my personality are completely out of my control. I am what I am...deal with it. Oh, and to support my cause I just found this...
Traditional Aries Traits - Adventurous and energetic - Pioneering and courageous -Enthusiastic and confident - Dynamic and quick-witted Check Check Check Check...On the dark side...Selfish and quick-tempered - Impulsive and impatient - Foolhardy and daredevil. Oh yeah and there's that. I do beg to differ with the impulsive. I appear impulsive but this little noggin does a lot of filtering and scenerio run down that no one on the outside is privy to. They may be unwilling to obey or submit to directions for which they can see no reason, or with which they disagree. Um...I think they have been hiding in my closet taking notes. They are much concerned with self, both positively and negatively - self-reliant but also self centered (sometimes) and concerned with their own personal advancement and physical satisfaction. I'm pretty sure I've been told that self centered thing a time or 14 in my life. Their immense energy makes them aggressive and restless, argumentative occasionally, headstrong, quick tempered, easily offended and capable of holding grudges if they feel themselves affronted. Scary actually isn't it? And they aren't really grudges...I just hate peoples ass forever after they cross me. Being responsible people Oh excuse me Mr X...I believe the stars just said I am responsible...hah in your FACE! Your nature is usually push or be pushed, with little middle ground. Oh well that could be where the last comment came from. This can at times be objectionable to others, but you must have the freedom to act, rather then just thinking about it, getting pent-up in the process. At all costs you need to avoid negative emotions such as resentment, regret and self-pity, for they would deny you what is essential to your nature: straightforwardness. And thats something I've never been accused of....It can also trick you into early unwise marriage which may end disastrously Well thanks for the too little too late advice on this one O' Star Master.

So as you can see....pretty much all the good and the bad of me and be rolled up in one big ball of IT AIN'T MY FAULT. Somewhere in there I'm sure the Star Master meant to say...and the bitch cain't make a plan to save her life. Now having exposed my soft white underbelly...

We will call it "talk" instead of plans...I'm a little more comfortable with that. The rum is packed (yes I traffice liquor...I'm just weird that way)...the sirus boom box is packed and there has been talk of doing a slaughtered crab crab boil one night which the hunter/gather side of my personality is really digging. If getting sand between my toes counts as a plan then consider me on the path to redemption.