Girl Update

I'm not sure how I can ROCK and at the same time be a complete doober...and no I don't have an exact definition of doober but refer to the following picture for a visual explanation. The rockin portion of me is that I blew out my bartender exam and speed test...19 drinks in 8 minutes...that must have taken all I had and all that was left was doober. OMG and I made the best f-ing chili ever tasted by man yesterday! It's called Green Turkey Chili...I know...makes your mouth water just thinking about gangrene turkey but that's all I can tell you about it because I have decided that it is now my signature dish and I can't share any details for risk of cheap wanna be girl impersonators

AND I have taken thrift to an all new level....the used dvd that I bought for 2 family members to share as the only christmas gift...well we watched it the other night. I reeeally wanted Mr Man to see it and what the hell...it was already opened. He dug it too.

I guess technically I have 2 gifts. I scanned a really old picture of me and my daddy on the beach and did some restoring or what not. I think I'm gonna have my mom open that one after I leave...it ain't gonna be pretty.

So we have really officially established ourselves in a new circle of friends...last night we were invited to a house party and a christmas day bring your leftovers and drink get together (its at our bar but it was none the less cool that everyone was making sure we were planning on coming) Its nice to hang out with people who don't know any frickin thing about you other than completely volunteered information...its nice to know that they are not a direct informational highway to an X or in my case that none of them are going to become the next bed down to said X (that's a story for another day). I'm digging the lack of agenda and freshness of new people.

Now for the visual portion of you update experience. See attached doober and then me in all my cuteness.

A Stray Stranger

So Mr Man is being all industrious and spray painting a night table for the extra bedroom when he comes in and tells me that right dead in the center of the top of it is a Roger or Carletta hair.
To which I reply"How do you know its not a cock hair?"
Mr Man: "Because its straight not curly"
Me: "Well it could be one from the butt crack...you know the constant pressure straightens them"

So goes most conversations between us...never a predictable moment.

Midweek boredom has run all up on my ass

Holy shit I'm bored tonight. And I have like 170ish drink recipes running around in my head like rabid horny squirrels...not to mention the random worthless trivia stuff that I've crammed in there for the last week and half. Good news is that I still have the capacity to piss people off by just being me. Yay! I shorted out this redneck chick today in class. She is the female version of a tool (I'm pretty sure me and Nan came up with a name for it but it escapes me at the moment) and I'm pretty glad I pissed her off...she's been wearing me out from a distance so WTF...turn about is fair play.

OMG I had another epiphany today...so after my Time for a Change blog I got a call back from the only real adult job that was still on the table. It was of course to let me know that they are going through a lot of restructuring yaddy yaddy... they would know more in 30-60 days blah blah whatever. None of this came as any surprise. The epiphany though was - Why is it that I am struggling to get my head around the idea of stepping out and making a career change?...it dawned on me suddenly...I HAVE A DAMN TATTOO TO REMIND ME TO TRUST MY INTUITION! I guess I shouldn't have put it on my back...out of sight and all.

So in my boredom tonight I made white trash...white chocolate melted over chex mix and random other stuff. It's good as hell but f-ing up my rum & grapefruit (which I have learned is not really a drink so make that 171ish drinks I know). Back in MarriedLand (not to be confused with CandyLand) the neighbor use to make this stuff and bring some over. It's good but not worth staying married over it.

Speaking of...the divorce countdown is officially in overtime. I had already vowed that I wasn't in for another dime and now I have a really good excuse. Mr X seems hot of the trail of "tying up the loose ends". My keen dog senses tell me that being "separated" past the allotted time is scaring off all of the good tail. I guess I'm, even in my absence, running cock blocker...well actually the opposite of it. Call it what you will, its about to score me a free divorce.

Well I'm going to go watch some Dog the Bountyhunter on mute. You don't know how much I wish I was kidding...

Time for a Change

I'm struggling with the grown up job scene vs. the overall shortness of time here in this human suit and the purpose of playing by the rules. I rock with algebra but this one is stumping me. It seems like the Universe is giving me big blaring blatant hints at every turn.

The real corner turner was watching my Daddy die so out of time and just shy of that ever so elusive "someday". I've been in this town for 10 years now...hard to believe, some days it feels like I just got here. But it brings the reality of exactly what 10 years feels like home to you. Mr Man has a friend that was just diagnosed with some gnarly and really advanced cancer. He's 10 years older than me. I'd be willing to bet that his last 10 years have felt as fast as mine did.

So why do we continue playing by the unwritten rules of grownup-edness? Why would I keep searching for the next job to tie me to a town that I don't care to stay in, so that I can pass another 10 years planning for my "someday". This has been a pretty big topic of conversation with Mr Man over the past several months. I think a lot of it is some drilled in belief that we all have of what success is. It always seems to involve a health care plan and 401k and if you can get to 100k in the first 2 years. I'm starting to think the safer future may be in mobility and ability to adapt and land on your feet no matter which state you find yourself.

I have a necklace called The Changer - Everything she touches changes - Everything that touches her gets changed. For years now, every time I put it on I sing this song...don't know why, just one of my weird quirks.

It's time for a Change
I'm tired of that same ol' same
The same ol' words and the same ol' lines
The same ol' tricks and the same ol' rhymes.

Days precious days
Rollin' in and out like waves
I've got boards to bend
I've got planks to nail
I've got charts to plot
I've got seas to sail

Let the chips fall where they will
I've got boats to build.

It played Saturday when we were sitting at our bar (not really ours but I think we own stock in it now) I of course told the story for the millionth time about my Changer necklace. Mr Man asked if I was ready for a change. I said "This is my change". I guess I'm just tired of fighting it. How many "successful" adult jobs do you have to loose and how many people do you have to see miss out on their Somedays before you read the writing on the wall and count yourself lucky? I'm ready to call a spade a spade. And he said to me "No two days will ever be the same and no yesterday will be as good as tomorrow." I yelled for my bartender chicky to give me a pen and wrote it down. He wowed me again.

Twisted Up Turkey Funk

The benefit I normally have is that I don't blog in the exact here and now...I normally have time to reflect and recover. And I have tendency to recover well and pretty quickly, so you at home don't get to see the unedited live version. That being said, I wrote this the day after Thanksgiving and as much as I now want to edit it out and tell my reflection time version I'm not going to. Maybe showing my struggling charm evading me side will make you appreciate the witty got the whole world by the short hairs side that you recognize me as. Then I'll give you the sorted out way I see it today.

Twisted Up Turkey Funk or you could call it the Turkey Roller coaster, whatever. Wait, let's start here....I don't like the "holidays". I don't know why but I tend to get funky...every year...no exceptions. I haven't spent Thanksgiving with any blood kin in probably 15 years or better. Btw, my family is the only one that doesn't fall under the old adage of blood is thicker than water. Not that I'm bitter or want it different... its as much that way on my end as it is for everyone else. Just being honest. I asked Mr Man if anyone actually likes their family and wants to be around them or am I normal? He said everyone is like me, they just fake it better. Jury's still out. It's good that he's like me. Mr X was straight up his family's ass...including his Mrs X. I never got it.
My mom called wanting me to go to some family thing and I told her that I just got freed up from having to make a damn green bean casserole every year and hang out with people I didn't want to be around and that I have no intention of starting that back up. Hell they haven't missed me in 15 years...why start now.
I do have one thing that I really look forward to this time of year...the Wizard of Oz play. It was kick ass again. We forgot to bring a gaggle of parasites like everyone else but it was AWESOME.

So turkey day I spent taking Rogo to the beach and watching back to back episodes of Cold Case Files on A&E. I actually made a statement that there was no way I planned on being sober come 5 o'clock, but I was....think I only had 2 drinks all night. (and this is monumental) Mr Man spent all day on a boat and wound up like 66 miles off shore and didn't catch shit...almost needless to say he also caught a case off the Twisted Turkey. We made oyster stew and were in bed before 9:30. Made it through another unscathed.
My short term (as in month long) goal is to not jack up some perky ass in public. Skipping all xmas decorating/ partying/ etc. Not that I've ever been a fan but I'm particularly not entertained this year. Last year xmas was the last time I saw my daddy not in a hospital bed and the last time he knew me...not exactly something I want to relive. Being job free there won't be any parties to attend or presents to buy. The remaining parental unit still does not know of my current employment situation so I'm not sure how I'll escape completely. As a matter of fact I bought her and her dad a used copy of Young @ Heart to share...I'm so thrifty. It comes highly recommended from me if that counts for anything. It's a documentary about a chorus of 72-95 year olds that learn and perform rock songs. Pretty funny stuff. A couple of them die during the filming and its interesting to listen to the others take of life and death and living.
I read that you should blog on off days too. So here ya go...me on an off day. Soak it up I don't have many.

Since this I've had plenty of time for thinking and head removal from ass. We went to a party to watch the Xmas Regatta and it was a lot of fun. We are officially spinning in a new circle of friends and it felt good. I thought today about just how much different life is today vs. a year ago. Night and day. I had a horrible horrible Thanksgiving last year...Mr X stalked around and was a general skitso...I thought I had to hold my ground and show up places that we use to go together and pee on something and everyone to mark my territory and friends while he was also there peeing on stuff too. Oyster stew and piling up on the couch with Mr Man is damn near perfect...even when we are both kinda sorta battling the Twisted Turkey Funk. The best is yet to come. I'm not swearing that I won't catch the Jackass Elf Flu though.

501 Reasons that Unemployment Kicks Ass

So very very sorry that I haven't kept up my end of the "keep the workin' folks entertained" deal, I've been busy...like traveling. Not to mention I haven't exactly gotten any funding to help fuel my creativity from any of you either....so we'll call that whole deal a wash.

I am so frickin' far behind on sharing the goings on of the girl that I have no idea where to start. So I'll just start with what I'm most stoked about right now and work my way around all random like. I know that's whats expected of me anyhow....why deny what you are.

Sunday is year two of the Wizard of Oz play!!! I am fully aware of my ranking of dorkness and don't give a damn. I have told every single bartender for at least the past 2 weeks. Yes, I am a bartender talker to-er. The Mr Man and myself have tickets to the afternoon show (only because that's what we went to last year and it rocked so why f with tradition). And we've also decided no beer only wine during the play...last year I missed stuff going to beer pee pee. Plus we've started drinking wine to cut back on the amount of beer and liquor. Tomato - Tomhato

So I have 2 days and I just realized I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to wear. I have over the last 2 months completely forgotten how to dress myself to not look lesbanese. And now that I've discovered fuzzy Crocs its all over. Like recently my non-lesbanese wear consists of my pink Calcutta hat....you see my concern.

Moving along. DUDE I kick so much ass you have no idea. Last week I changed the spark plugs, wires, distributor cap and rotor on my jeep. I had Mr Man guidance but didn't require but just a little actual help. I did it like a girl though...I wore gloves to keep from getting all greasy. Trust me...if I had grease under my nails at the same time as NOT wearing the pink hat...

And just for the sake of randomness...I'll leave you with a picture from Savannah. I'm pretty sure we went there in maybe late September?? Savannah is the reason that I bought my first "real" camera. I went there just to see the place and drink when I was about 22. It was a Sunday morning on River St and there was an old couple sitting at a little bistro table drinking big draft beers. She had a kercheif tied on her little white head and wore dark tourist sunglasses. I've never seen a better black & white shot. So I went home and bought a camera that cost more than my little seven dollars an hour brought me in a week. It was one of the best things I've ever done.

Rebuttal

Ok...I knew that I was going to cause a bit of riff with my mushroom blog but I had no idea the wrath that was going to be brought down upon me by my normally very even keel Mr Man. Dude, he spanked my ass over it. (I'm not going to clarify) It didn't even get a hint of smile, snicker or single ounce of amusement. He was pissed. So the purpose of this is to completely clarify that I did not in fact have anything to do with the bite marks in the mushroom...some where in my back yard there is a big fat very stoned bunny rabbit. As a matter of fact, possibly the last thing in the yard that I would choose to munch on would be the mushrooms....They will kill you. If you think differently then obviously you grew up or lived through a MUCH different 70's than the girl here did. I am fully aware that most people's 70's ROCKED...that's why I was not allowed to make eye contact with them...some of their heathenism could jump right off of them and directly into my eyes blinding me forever. Actually that's not why I wasn't allowed to make eye contact. The reason I couldn't was because (and I'm sure this will be news to some of you) everyone who rode a motorcycle was a Hell's Angel and they were murderers and unless I wanted to somehow provoke or threaten them then I had best not look at them. Please bear in mind that I was 6 and looked strikingly like Opie....I'm betting I couldn't have provoked or threatened anyone if my life (and crooked teeth) were on the line.

My dad's army buddy somehow was not included in this murderer/motorcycle rider notion. He had a motorcycle and a love van. I was unaware at the time but the super cool Scoobish van with the king mattress in the back...yea more went on in there than just a cool ride....but as a kid it was an awesome playhouse when he came over....I'm doubting he bothered changing the sheets very often....ick...gives me the hybies now to think about the DNA that I was probably playing around in. Note - he also carried around a bag of lemons and always had a bottle of Texas Pete in his back pocket. Officially an odd cat but very loyal... He came and slept in the floor when Daddy was in Hospice so even as odd as he is, I give him the big cheesy Chips thumbs up.

So back to the mushrooms. Not only would eating them kill you...like a cruel and painful death (nothing ever mentioned about any hallucinating or tripping or pink elephants or whatever) but if you touched them it could also lead to immediate torturous demise. So to calm all of you that lived the alternate version of the 70's. NO, I DID NOT EAT THE MUSHROOM. I'm just a dork that didn't think anyone actually ever ate crap out of yard and BTW I didn't touch it either cause there was no one here to rush me to the hospital.

Whatcha see is whatcha get

Why is this such a hard concept?? I've been told, on more than one occasion, that one thought there could not be any less grey in a person until they met me. I take this as a HUGE compliment. I'm as transparent as they get. And I find it very hard to swallow that there are manipulative people in the world and to what great lengths they will go to come out on top. ANNOUNCEMENT - I don't give a damn about top. There is no top. There is only contentment with oneself and where you are. Period.

I suppose its called taking the high road...I did it with Mr X and even though looking at it on paper it doesn't look like I won... I did. I'm also choosing this same path with my most recent encounter with a F-ED SLAM DAMN UP person that I use to have to work in close proximity with. Whatever chubby it gave her to tell complete lies about me I will never understand. And I know that with trying to understand I only allow myself to be a victim. A million people can push against you, but until you push back there is no resistance. It's not that I'm playing that "turn the other cheek" shit that was pumped into my head as a kid...I just know that Me staying on even keel is sooo much more important than playing into the game of life.

To be honest, I have no idea what tomorrow holds....or the next...or next year or forever from now. The only thing that truly matters is how I feel...about how I treat people...about how I react when people are shitty...and about Me. I may be a bit non-conformist and rowdy and in your face...but what you see....

My earthy side

Ok, so I was mistaken about growing a water tower....and apparently I was too clever for even the smart ones in the crowd and no one got that anyhow. Water tower...peach....like Gaffney. See how things just completely loose their legs when you have to explain them?? Back to my point...it was just a big cool mushroom. And yes, I am the only person you know who would take a bite of the yard art! I ROCK. It wasn't bad...kinda raw portabello-ish.....and it packs a pretty decent buzz. (How many reprimands do I think I'm gonna get over this one.) Now, if I could only figure out how to grow enough mushrooms to substitute my rum intake I might be on to something.

I am possibly the weirdest person I know

I am seriously concerned about self entertainment after today...I started having some of those crazy ass thoughts while mowing. (I even broke down and did the really slow walk so I could use the mulchy thingy and not the side shooty thingy). Of course when I just mentioned this to Nan she said "like crazy thoughts of running over people with a mower?" Possibly I am more sane than people think I am... I'm thinking I could cut like crop circles in my grass or something...I'd have to figure out how to get on top of the house to take pictures of it though and that in itself seems like reason enough to try a different avenue for my creativity.

Today I did do something very out of the norm and have decided it was worthy of keeping on board....I rode the bike to the gym. It was my first real road riding and no one infringed on my space so I'm feeling pretty good about. I've always felt that I would come to my demise via a soccer mom and her Town & Country.

I've also figured out that the reason behind my average thought retention of 2.5 seconds is not attributed to by my mind being multi tasked and over worked. I've still been scribbling flying non-sequeters down all day in order to share all that is this rambling web of randomness in my head.

Ok...finally getting around to bringing you to date on some major happenings that you've missed over the course of the last month or so. I have a farming chipmunk....I use have loosely....and I use farming loosely too. He has taken up residence up underneath the down spout thingy or somewhere. If I could actually see him after he decides to bolt I could give more accurate chipmunk stats but he's one fast little f-er. Anyhow all these plants started popping up like everywhere...so I let them grow and apparently Mr Chipmunk did not think that I was putting enough sunflower seeds out to get him through the winter so he decided to take things upon himself and farm. I think he saw something on HGTV about an Indian Summer and late harvests were the ticket or something.

My chipmunk ROCKS. (side note...haven't seen him lately...he might not have read on the package the germination time and gave up early and moved to key west)

Subject change - Roger has a new beach baby...got this for him last time I was down. 3 bucks and he digs the crap out of it. (my dog is as thrifty as me) The only down side of it is when I walked in on Mr Man and he was choking it. (its only funny if I don't have to explain it)

I also contemplated, this afternoon while being my own cabana lawn boy, letting my armpit hair grow out all Oregon lebanese-ish...like seriously how long would it get?...would it just get to a point and go stagnant or would it crest my elbow after a few months?? And if thats not enough I was getting out of the shower signing some crazy song to the cat...it wasn't the meow mix song like the cat sings on the commercial but it was really close. The dog is laying on the bath mat and looks up at me like "bitch you have lost your mind"... the same "oh so intelligent" dog then sniffs the cats ass as she strolls by to get a closer seat for the seranade. I'm now getting the crazy eye from a butt sniffer... You see my concern with the coming days. I can only scoop the cat pan so many times. For now I'm going to stick with growing my own water tower. I told you that you've miss some big shit.

Dude...wtf is this??

Me = Another Statistic of the economy being in the shitter

Well here's your formal announcement that I am on the market to the highest bidder. I am seeking the title of Professional Personal Opinion Offerer. My job duties would be to give you my opinion / outlook / rant or otherwise unsolicited take on any or all situations as I choose fit. Not that I would do any of the above upon request, it would be more as I see the need. I would like a full time salary as opposed to pay per rant....that may feel like too much pressure. Or more likely you would go expediently over budget. Possibly a bonus plan if you in fact found any of my Opinions to be beneficial above the expected entertainment factor or if they lead to any surprising financial gain.

As a side note, I also have a partner that would be willing to weigh in on any big issues. There will be an outside consulting fee for any Beaver participation. Currently he is unavailable. Like me he has fallen victim to things outside of his control. His, unlike mine, won't affect whether we can afford organic milk or not. Hibernation...domesticated style.

The good news for you employed types...there will be a lot more of this blogging for therapy going on to keep you entertained and informed throughout the drudgery of your earning a paycheck (and funding the states unemployment budget) days. At least now you will be getting something for your money... You know me....always the one to see the silver lining.

Just me

No wit, no charm, just me struggling a bit. This luckily is something that I do well at hiding...as always. But this is my form of therapy so too bad for all of you. Two weeks ago my mom came to visit....I suppose I should address things in order of how they happen as to not appear completely random. The better part of 3 days with the remaining parental unit tends to bring my childhood raging up into my face. Makes me think of a Buffett tune - I was force fed my religion but somehow saved my smile...that really sums it up. There's a lot of shit that I don't need in life but somewhere at the top of that list is interaction with Mr X and pictures of my dad's marker. (of which the world almost crashed to an end because his family saw it before my mom....now his family exists as a separate entity) Now think what you will about me...my give a damn about people's opinions has never been very high....I have no intention of seeing this in person. Death relived is not something that I need. Then from marker pics we went to funeral flowers on the grave to OOOh look! Me & him at xmas and "you can tell he was sick then" Well no shit. He was sick for years...years that he wasn't who he was. I don't know what Picks Disease is but I know it's f-ed up to watch. I don't need memory lane to show me what's not here. Pretty sure that's not what he would want. In death we are glorified. In sickness he held any semblance of family together. The truth is, they were just alike. Him less intrusive than her but cut out of the same mold for sure. F a marker. I'll see him one day....one day if I pay enough attention I'll recognize him as he walks by me on the beach....head down, intent on finding that next slightly imperfect perfect shell. Something that religion blinds you to.

No wonder I am quite the hermit....I embrace by oddities but night #3 on the heels of full day #2 of no human interaction has me weird. Oh, well if you count getting the suspect "Do I need to come out and help you with something" from the suspicious deli lady who obviously didn't understand my aimless wondering.

On the family update....Rogo has the handsome hair cut. He's funny and leggy and narrow butthead and pink dicky when he sports the shave do. When I picked him up yesterday after said shave do, they gave me his toothbrush. I guess I never thought about it before. When you pay for the extra special spa treatment for them they don't just use a community toothbrush...go figure. I suppose that's going to add a new and interesting aspect to my life. Thank you whoever invented the dog toothbrush.

I'm a little troubled by my reversion to the norm of sitting back and planning on the proverbial "someday". When me and Mr Man went to the outer banks in the spring we came across this little tshirt shop ran by lesbanese ....found a shirt in there that had the days of the week listed...at the end it said "See...no Someday" That coupled with our recently renting of The Bucket List...you see where this is going.

Feeling like getting away...and not really interested in spending the weekend dodging Mr X and other undesirables. What the hey...when all else fails why not test your proximity to alcoholism....the weekend was not wasted. I did rake up all the mulch out of my rock/mulch/the grass wins natural area. Then dug up all the big rocks. No idea really what the f to do with them. Rocks are something you either really need or you don't. And unfortunately for me you can't take them to the goodwill like I do with everything else that falls into that category. Speaking of...I've turned a corner. The $25 white sundress that I wore @ my wedding to Mr X is officially in the "consignment" stack. Not that it couldn't be worn any ole place...I'm just in general not a sundress girl...especially when it flashes you back to a bad idea. Choosing a tank top and hat that matches is my general fashion challenge.

On an awesome note! Mr Man and I are going to see John Hiatt this week!!
"I've got nothing to live up to and everywhere to be". I may deck it out for my date and be a sundress girl.

To explain my ramblings...after days of solitude I tend to go one way or the other. Like everything else with me there's very little middle ground. I will either go all over the place and not shut up or I'm dead silent and couldn't make a sentence if my life was in peril.

Oh! Movie recommendation - Tin Man. I only saw Disc one...I don't know if it was some kind of a series or what. But instead of renting Disc two I found it on Amazon for 10 bucks and bought the set. Loosely based on the Wizard of Oz...and for those few, you know I dig the crap out of it. Mr Man took me to the play last year. It was probably the best date of my life. Ranks high on the All Time Best Life Experiences....but so do most things we do together.

Things I'm Digging Right Now-

-My new playlist
Lucky - Colbie Caillat
99.9% - Brian McComas
Roll With Me- Montgomery Gentry
Searchin' My Soul - Vonda Shepard
Old Days - John Hiatt
Life in a Northern Town - Sugarland
Galileo - Indigo Girls
Maryland - Vonda Shepard
Lookin for a Good Time - Lady Antebellum
Love Run Wild - Mulch Bros
Kerosene - Miranda Lambert

-Sunny weekends + my jeep

-Tin Man

-My little tomato plants

-The new fountain (and the old one relocated to the deck)

-My new laundry detergent - makes my sheets smell kick ass

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend. Lucky to be where I have been"

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.

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.

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.

Truce

The Greenhorn Girl is pissed. 3 of our crabpots got jacked. Not just pirated - Jacked. (This is in case you were wondering my own badass crab lingo. Pirated = some jackass stole our crabs. Jacked = Some jackass stole the whole damn pot) Mr. Man has more faith in humanity and believes that they are just underwater. The tides were crazy high from some odd planetary alignment. Meanwhile only the tide will tell....

The day was spent on water, all of it. Mr. Man took me out in the little boat before lunch and we putzed up rivers and backways and pissed off the depth finder more than a few times. I made a very failed attempt of leaning over the side to catch jelly balls. Jelly balls are the non stinging version of jelly fish....except the ones that I was trying to catch were the ones I've always ran screaming like a girl from. (Not really...cause not much makes me do that, but I've always thought they would jack you up. Note another way to use the word jack). I guess they can see or something because they were all over the surface but when I leaned over and put my hands in they would dive down. I grazed a couple of them...they are hard and slimy...not easy to get a hold of. The satelite radio and cooler were drug up on the beach and sat around wondering what the poor people were doing. We figured out how to share ration beer when we got to the scary bottom of the cooler land and I danced my first waste deep in water dance to Lucky Stars.

A beer run, shower and boat swap later.....We anchored up with the new beer supply, rum for the girl and a Buffett live in Philly concert. Apparently a few parrotheads in the lawn seats had sinned and lightening kept striking too close to the crowd so the concert was on slight delay. The timing wound up being perfect. Right at dark we had a very mistaken snake on board episode that still has me snorting....somehow I was the only one who really found much humor in it. To spare myself an asskicking, I will spare you the details. But we pulled anchor to go retrieve what had managed to go over board during the no snake scare. We turned what is normally a 20 some minute boat ride into 2 hours of singing out loud, dancing and partaking of the grape. And some where in there we had "The" conversation....we declared a fart truce. To never, except in the rare occassion that our head actually blew off first, ever fart in each others presence. I officially have safe harbor from the dutch oven.

And...
I've got a roof over my head. Someone to love me in a 4 poster bed. I can play this here guitar. Gotta thank my lucky stars.

Sex and The Lettuce Wedge...

So the other weekend Nan and I ventured for girls movie night to see Sex and The City. We were sitting at the bar having dinner and had "I spied" an awkward first date. The chick looked to be in her early 50's and the dinner date appeared to be knocking on 80's door. (Today's pharmaceuticals have really put a lot of folks back on the scene apparently.) They had their drinks and ordered then chicky disappears, we assumed to the bathroom. The dinner came and he sat and looked at it....and looked at it....and looked at it...then started poking at it and looking around. Somewhere around the second looked at it I commented that obviously she went to poo...by the time he started poking at his lettuce wedge we were convinced that she had bolted. I guess he finally figured the hell with it and ate his wedge. I had to make a toliet run to see if she was in fact hunkered up in there with a big elvis poopie or what. Nope...not there and her purse was still on the back of the chair so she had in fact not pulled the exit stage left. Now bear in mind dudero had probably already popped the earlier mentioned pharmaceuticals (and they obviously have a similar side effect to pot and cause a perma-grin) and he was scouting out his options. We had already caught way too many full denture grins ourselves and had decided that the no eye contact was the safest route. Right when we were leaving date chicky drops back in from out of the sky...we never did figure where the hell she went to make the "give me 5 mins and call with an emergency" call but I'd be more than willing to bet that he was left with more than a lettuce wedge to contend with on his on that night...

There was an absolute cutie at the quicky mart...sitting in the car with an absolute cutie dog on his lap hanging out the window. Cute dog = Chick magnet...i point this out to Nanner when she got in the car. About that time his magnetized chick came out to get in the car. Dude...the dog ate her bra. Way cutie girl...with way funky knobbly little boobs and a gray wife beater. We giggled and snorted at my "I didn't even know I was going to say it" comment and decided not only did she have freaky boobs but somewhere under that skirt was huge set of kahunas to pull that look in public. Hats off to ya Ms Weird Tits!

One well concealed flask & a jumbo diet coke to share and I was feeling like I had pulled one over on the man. We are such amateurs. Taco Bell hookers beside us sat down and pulled out BURRITOS! Not little bitty burritos....BIG freaking burritos. Whatever...I had a buzz....F- a burrito.

The girl flick turned out to be pretty good. It made me realize that we all tend to get lost in relationships...our personalities and dreams and everything that makes you who you are on your own. When it all boils down, we have to remain true to ourselves. Otherwise you just wind up pissed off that you compromised away everything that made you unique. I actually remember where I was when I said that exact line to Mr X...we were having a slightly crispy conversation about someone else....he said "well people change" and I said "its different when you compromise away everything that ever made you unique". As soon as it came out of my mouth it hit me like a ton of bricks....the conversation had just taken a shift from the other person to me....not to mention it was over. Not just the conversation...there was a fork in the road.

Greenhorn Girl

HOOTY HOO!! I am the CRAB MASTER! Well, at least in my own mind. Last weekend Mr. Man took me crabbing for the first time in girl's life. OMG I loved it....and you can drink all the beer you want and still not screw anything up. I learned to tie knots and rig pots and I got to bait them with fish guts and turkey necks and all kinds of gross goey stinky stuff. The next morning we got up @ the ass crack of dawn and went to check pots...dude we had all kinds of crabs. It was awesome....I wore little yellow fishing overalls and got dirty as hell. My inner tomboy came raging to the surface and there was absolutely no hiding it. Mr. Man said that he had never seen me so in my element...I figure I looked a lot like a tall grinning version of Opie with a pony tail.

Here's a little something that I didn't know....you clean the crabs while they are still alive....UUUGGGHHKK...that freaked me out for the first couple but then I figured I shouldn't be hypocritical and want to eat every crab cake that comes within a 10mile radius of me if I wasn't willing to accept how they come about. So I bucked up and I now can break off pinchers, remove a back shell and fling out guts like nobody's bidness. Sexy huh?

So speaking of crabs....my dog has his own little version of the critters. I officially suck as a dog mom. I am sooo pissed. I pay out the ass for those stupid little squeezy things from the vet that you put on their back. And I keep up with it...always keep the dates we (me & dog)put them on written on the box. 5/5....and somewhere Memorial weekend little dog man starts scratching so I put another on him. Hell no too late... full outbreak of the dog crabs. Dude I am not digging this. 2 home flea dips later we seem to have it under control except that he's all OCD now and licks and nibbles all over himself even tho there's not a single sign of the dog crabs anymore. I suck.


So, the night before the earlier mentioned gut flinging we were out at about sunset putting the pots in and we had plenty of beer and a cooperating tide so he decided to show me the back way to the old inlet...you gotta know which way to go or you could manage the need to carry your boat back to water or run out of beer waiting for the next high tide, neither of which are cool. We were right out where the inlet is or was... and I turned and guess what I saw.... my old house....you could see it from way out there. Guess I never really realized how big it was. And right then it hit me, I don't miss any of that old life...even the stuff that I was so scared to let go of. It seems more like a dream than anything, not somewhere that I ever was. And you know what....I wouldn't give up a single thing that I have for one minute to have any part of that life back....except the dog crabs...we could let those go.

What the hell?

So have you ever had memory cross over?....I never really put it together until last weekend when Mr Man and I were just slightly outside of the throws of Black Bike Week. I say slightly outside because we were only privy to one REALLY big ass hanging out of something REALLY small on the back of a bike. Otherwise just the occasional passing of some guys in search of the scary ass. But wait, I have to give the first part of the memory...we were listening to Margaritaville and they were replaying the concert from the show that were just at a few weeks before and somewhere near the very drunken end Buffett did his version of Bob Dylan's Everybody Must Get Stoned. So we were just in the midst of being impressed with ourselves for remembering at all and commenting about how we would never hear that song without thinking about one nameless friends dad signing every word to the top of his lungs, when in on coming traffic there it was....the memory crossover. 15 badass hoodlum mopeds hauling ass south for Black Bike Week. Now, granted I'm white and maybe I just don't get it but....What the hell?

There are I suppose things that I understand even less....Dr. Leonard's mail order catalog. Apparently from the product line these things are geared toward the elderly consumers. As an example, on the cover we have a gingam print moo-moo available in 4 pastel colors. Pg 4 a fleece recliner cover. Pg 12 the little tennis ball covers that go on the front legs of a walker. Along with various other bath handle grips, support stockings and a whole slue of velcro shoes. Completely unspecting. Until you get to pg 22....2 pages of dildos and "Advanced Sexual Technique" videos. It actually shows a woman rubbing her neck with a vibrator.... I'm really hoping that this stuff isn't a big seller for them. So if Granny has something sitting beside her tv table dont think anything of it....she was just the innocent victim of personal massage twisted marketing. Ya know she could have just been looking for one of the horseshoe shaped neck pillows on pg 19 and gotten confused.

What the hell?

Back to Center

I knew I had written this somewhere in one of the many little spiral notebooks I keep laying around the house. So I went on a search and found it....thought about just giving snipits but liked the all of it since it still speaks exactly how I feel.


A little late on the resolution front....The short of it is this.

I am not one of them, I refuse to act like one of them to make them more comfortable. I will not run around in their little rat races. I'm no kin to rodents, so I don't have to participate in their olympic games.

I'm more content than ever to be who I am and how I am. I've settled nicely into my myself. I like that I like Buffett better than any other music. I don't have to know band names or what they look like and I like that too.

So, no resolution here, other than to never ignore the voice and always just be me. "Me" always knows best and when in doubt, find center and try again.


That last line is what I was looking for. I had managed to get a bit off center lately...who knows why, it just happens sometimes. The long beach weekend put me back on track. I only answered the phone calls I wanted to and made less than that. Committed to no plans. Showed up for social interaction when I felt like it and left the same way. It was good feeling to be able to be around people you know or to completely disappear into the beach full of tourists. My time with Mr Man and 5000 pounds of shrimp made me feel complete. Hard to believe I know that anything that involves "deveining" and fish smell can do that, but it did. And I figured out that my proximity to water is pretty important.

I sat there by myself Monday watching all these people on the beach that are my age or younger with all of their kids and families and obligations and baggage. I realized just how good I have it and how much I don't want to be anywhere but here. Here being the way and how that I am. Mr. Man said to me last night "you take my heart, you take my breath, you take my every thought". I am where I need to be...occasionally you just realize it. I found Center again.

Preparing for the shallow end...

Well I am headed to hang out in the shallow end of the pool this weekend. Doing all of my last minute girl duties in order to have a complete lack of responsibility weekend. (Outside of getting the dog out for poo breaks in a timely manner of course).



I am making my first appearance since New Years at the beach...first interaction with everyone since they all decided which side of the perverbial divorce fence they reside on. Can't say I'm terribly looking forward to it. I'm torn between really hoping that the other side of the fence posseser is there with his new thing and they run cock blocker for me since everyone will be hanging out with them vs. the I REALLY do not want to be anywhere close to the same vacinity as him. The really suck part is that there are only 2 bars to hang at and the said "hanging out" takes place at different times so there is never more than 1 option at a time. And the resturant ratio isn't much better. Kinda makes the odds of not running into anyone slim to none if you plan on a public appearance at all.

This is about as whiny as I'll get....the emotional guppies are wearing me out even before I'm exposed to them. I'm anticipating the hugs and OMG we've missed you crap. I'm on a rant only because I am a very stick with you person and get really twisted up when I dont get the same in return. Twisted up is probably a wrong description...I get really put off and then really over you. All the while you are still unaware that you may have upset the Great Oz. I give you rope then sit quietly while you hang yourself.

Its just the way that I am. I am fully aware of it and also fully ok with it.

I'm sure I'll come away with some entertaining stories....and really in the end if you can giggle and snort at stupid people then that's all the matters.

We are at that point...

There comes a time in life that you say to yourself...Good God I must tell someone about this. Welcome to that time of my life. Nothing like fresh divorce to get your creative mind functioning again. I'm actually ahead of myself...thats not for 160 more days...not that I'm keeping up with it. Maybe I'll start an official divorce countdown.


Anyways, my day is peaking, yes I am watching the dog poo as I write. #2 #2 on the day...he must be detoxing (did that a few months back just to build some history). Came about from liver worry...yadda yadda it makes you poo your brains out for 2 weeks. Wow. How quickly I've digressed to poo talk. I have a theory that conversation eventually turn to poo. This one just came on at a much unanticipated speed....moving on.


So on my way home from lunch to witness above mentioned poo I see this....





In case you can't see it...its a TOOL label. And ya know...that about sums it up. I wish all dumbasses came with an obvious identifier...would've saved me some time.

I did however see all the red flags of one at the gym tonight. I vaguely recall an incident with the same dumbass a few months back...he invaded my space and said something about "mortar shoulders"...so tonight I didn't do well with my no eye contact method of avoiding interaction. For pointers, if I look a completely different way will you are talking to me you can take this as a hint that the direction I'm looking is also the direction I'm considering going when I break out into that full out get-away-from-the-dumbass sprint. So within the 2 minutes that he cornered me I know this about him (try to keep up) - He "busted" his ankle up 3 weeks ago but then 2 days later went on a "really intense" ride, then 2 days later played golf. And his "busted" stuff just wouldn't seem to mend. He just got back from California where we rode all thru the wine country with this dude that he bought a Tour de France bike off of last year and has kept in touch with. He also really loves beer and he brews his own and tonight is $1 off draft at the Tap Room and Monday nights is $1.50 draft somewhere else that has really great craft beers and bladdy bladdy. Then he takes a breath and asks me my name...looking back I have no idea why I didn't say something like "Bob" but I didn't. Oh, nice to meet you, I'm Lanny. AAAGGGHHHH!! And that was somewhere close to my actual reaction. I told him sorry but he had a really bad name since I've only known one in life and I'm currently on an active divorce countdown with him. At which point he starts up a discertation about his name really being Gardner something something the third. I somewhere around this point head off in that direction of my stare and broke away...but not before the hand shake. Dude. WTF.