Star Trek DOES apply IRL!

Y'know in ST2:Wrath of Khan, and in the new one as well, when they take the creature and drop it into people's bodily orifices to wrap around their innards and make them crazy and give up information and do as they are bid and then kill them?

C'mon, you do too. (Well, Google it, fer gods' sakes!)

Well, I think I have one of those wrapping around my cerebral cortex.

I think it's settled in, having been rummaging around in there for the last 24 hours or so.

At first I feared it was the beginning of a migraine, which will make me chop my own head right the hell off, but now I do not think that is it.

Could my spine be out of whack? Yes, but I still owe the chiropractor almost $900 from last year, so THAT ain't happening...thus, that cannot be the answer.

Could it be that I was sick for two days and the germs haven't completed their retreat? Could be, but there isn't anything I can do to hurry their asses up on their retreat...so that cannot be the answer.

Could it be that I carry all my stress in my upper body and my skull? Nah, couldn't be something so silly as that!

However, I think I am going to go with the Ceti Eel creature. (Yeah, I googled it's name for you, slacker. By the way, did you know the Captain Terrell action figure came with a Ceti Eel accessory? It's true. See what you miss by not Googling this shit for yourself?)

So, the Ceti Eel just seems the most reasonable explanation for this pain.

And here's a buffed Ricardo M. as Khan, just for your viewing (and perhaps giggling) pleasure:

Hope the little fucker is enjoying his meal...

GAAH!

So, here's the thing with moving back across country after a decade...
I am SO stressed out.
It is really hard to juggle finding a place to live when you are half a continent away (even with your friends looking for you, it's still a lot of pressure), finding a way to make income THERE when you haven't left HERE, actually douching out the house and selling off as much shit as possible in a short period of time, trying to get the kids to HELP, worrying about the money to move anyway!...it's never ending and it keeps sneaking up on me.
Today I am feeling especially burdened, overwhelmed, and daunted.
I have to plot a course for the move that will leave us near a motel that accepts pets each day. I have to actually have a for-sure date so I can rent the damn U-Haul. I have to make arrangements to get my mom out here. I have to tell the landlord I am leaving!
Gaaah!
I can't do all this shit between the weekday hours of 6pm-6am, after a full day of work! IT DOESN'T WORK! I have tried!
I'm drowning.

Exercise Kills, People!

So, you know how in movies, there is always some idiot at the gym who flies off the back of their treadmill into the mirrored wall, and hilarity ensues?
Yesterday, I was that idiot. And it wasn't at all funny. (I know it wasn't, cuz I am still not laughing about it today. After almost 24 hours, it should already be funny if it's going to be.)
I went to my second session with my trainer at 24 Hour Fitness, and we had been doing stuff and interspersing treadmill in between. It was hard, but my cute little dyke trainer is very encouraging and we laugh a lot. So on our third trip to the treadmill, it was hard going. I am completely out of shape, and my lungs are always incapacitated anyway, so I was trying to comcentrate on breathing, and I closed my eyes for a second and completely lost my step rhythm...suddenly, BAM! I am off the back with my right leg, whacking my knees on the edge of the treadmill. Of course, your first instinct when you do this is to lean your weight on whichever leg is the steadiest. But my steady leg was STILL ON THE TREADMILL, which was still moving.
Aerodynamically, you cannot right yourself on a moving treadmill.
But I tried.
So I got to fall TWICE, and whack my knees TWICE.
To make it worse, the treadmills were all full, and the buffest guy in the gym was next to me. At least he didn't laugh at me. But then, he also did not see if I was okay. HUMPH!
My trainer just said, "WHOA! Just stay off! If it's going to happen, you can't stop it!" She swears this happens a lot, and that I wasn't the worst fall she has seen.
My first thoughts at the time were, "FAT GIRL FALLIN'!" (but in a funny way), and "Wow. She looks like a shitty trainer now, doesn't she?"
So, I recovered and finished my last 30 seconds and went on to weight training. Cuz I am tenacious and play-it-off like that unless I am GRAVELY injured.
So we went on to weight training. And THEN...(I know! How could I survive MORE?!) I ended up light headed and had to sit down on the floor.
Why? Because I seem to be unable to both BREATHE and COUNT at the same time.
So I was counting bicep pulls...and not breathing enough.
SO I kept going after I sat on the floor for two minutes. Cuz I am an idiot who refuses to be tamed.
It was okay by the end, but even my trainer had to say, "Good thing you weren't chewing gum, too."
By the time I got home, both my knees were HUGE. And I even had a huge lump like a mini extra knee cap, or a radio tuning dial, on top of my right kneecap. And scraped up, bloody knees like a small child with no motor control, running on cement.
I spent all last night icing them, and was in bed at 8, icing them again, loaded on ibuprofen, and exhausted and in pain. And since I was exhausted and in pain, I couldn't sleep, of course. I am too old for this get-in-shape shit.
Today I am hobbling like a hundred-year-old cripply woman, and my entire body hurts. Exercise kills, man. Don't do it.

(But yes, I am going again next week.)

Jellyfish, Jellyfish Facts, Jelly Fish, Jellyfish Species, Jellyfish Safety, Jellyfish Pictures

Jellyfish, Jellyfish Facts, Jelly Fish, Jellyfish Species, Jellyfish Safety, Jellyfish Pictures

DAWN OF THE DREADFULS!

The Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (a NY Times bestseller, no less!) prequel: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith...you MUST read it, people!

And read to the bottom of this blog, as THERE ARE PRIZES TO BE WON!

Before I tell you why this is a must-read, I have a few dirty little admissions to get out of the way upfront:

1. I have never really liked Jane Austen's novels. (No, do not throw things at me!)

Her women always struck me as weak, whiny and piddling creatures not really worth my time. But, since I was an English Lit major in college (before theatre got me in its clutches), and ended up halfheartedly attempting a Lit minor later, I HAVE read almost all of Austen's work. I even sat through a few of the movies they have made from them.

2. I, indubitably one of the few, the shamed, and the timid, have NOT read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, although I HAVE been planning to since its release. My copy was immediately confiscated and booknapped away into the Teenage Netherworld of my daughter's room, as soon as it hit the front door. I fear I have been scared...er...I mean, been unable to retrieve it thus far.

Be that as it may, the advanced reading copy of PPZ:Dawn of the Dreadfuls went directly into my hidey-hole when it arrived. As selfish a gesture as that may seem, I am eternally happy about it, as I was grinning by page eleven, and laughing out loud and publicly by page twenty-two...and the narrative actually starts on page nine, so that tells you something!

I am NOT going to tell you what happens in this book. Sorry. YOU MUST READ IT! But here is what I WILL tell you:

Hockensmith has the language and mores of Jane Austen down pat without making an offensive mockery of it, which could easily be done with the manners of that historical period...which should reassure you dyed-in-the-wool Austenites.

I must say, I like Mr. Bennett much more in this novel than in any of Austen's imaginings...a Mr. Bennett with knowledge of Shaolin warriorship and a dojo overtaken by Mrs. Bennett's greenhouse appealed to me immediately. Mrs. Bennett...ah, Mrs. Bennett. She is still very Austen, but even more so: more flamboyant, louder, more center-of-attention-seeking, more flibberty-jibberty. I hated her in Austen, and I can only say I still do. Although she does amuse periodically, which I never felt in Austen!

I even much more enjoy envisioning Elizabeth Bennett and her family in the situations Hockensmith puts them in over Austen's own. There is much joy to be found in fighting zombies (Oh! I said the Z word!) while trying to still go to balls and husband-hunt to please one's lunatic, single-minded mother!

I now give you two of my favorite quotes from early on in the novel, which I think express the tone of the novel quite nicely:

One, from Mrs. B, on the subject of marriage and coming out balls, while there are Dreadfuls afoot: "I need both of you on the market if we're to head off utter disaster! Ohhh, by the time this business is done, we'll all be roaming about in our shrouds with fresh brain smeared around our mouths like so much marmalade, you mark my words!"

And one from Mr. B, when queried as to his daughters' lack of desire to be trained as warriors to fight the Dreadfuls: "Then I will disown you, and you will, most likely, be torn apart and eaten by a pack of festering corpses...Any more questions?"

What's not to enjoy here?!

And now, I am afraid I need to gird my loins and venture into my daughter's room, at my most stealthily, trying to rescue Pride and Prejudice and Zombies to continue the saga!

**************

And here's the prize part, people!

Follow the below link, and mention MY BLOG on the discussion boards (hey, even just help me stay on the advance reading copy list at Quirk Books; will ya help a girl out?!) Feel free to rave about me...

You are automatically entered for the prizes when you post.

http://www.quirkclassics.com/index.php?q=QuirkClassicsContest_DOD_Reviews

The jolly folk at Quirk are giving away 50 prize packs (worth over $100!), which include the following:

• Advance copy of this lovely novel, Dawn of the Dreadfuls


• Audio books of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters


• An online password redeemable for sample audio chapters of Dawn of the Dreadfuls


• An AWESOME Dawn of the Dreadfuls poster


• A Pride and Prejudice and Zombies journal


• A box set of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies postcards!

Here's the link to Dawn of the Dreadfuls: GO NOW!

http://quirkclassics.com/index.php?q=dawnofthedreadfuls

Endless Circling, Like Vultures...

Do you ever have thoughts, not very nice ones, that just won't go away, and they circle like vultures over a carcass, no matter what you try to do to banish them?

And, occasionally, you think you chased them off, but as soon as you think that, they come back out from behind that big tree and swoop again?

Yeah, me too.

Right now I am having some serious circling vulture thoughts on the subject of money.

Actually, lack thereof.

Now, I KNOW I chose a difficult path, doing the single-mom-in-California thang, especially by adding another kid.

But that does not change the fact that I have these damn vultures, all the same.

I work full time. I mom full time. I am in debt full time.

I LACK full time.

I have tried my damnedest to get in the vibrational "call it to you and the Universe will give it to you" mindspace, but y'know what?

Ends still do not meet. Bills still go unpaid. Collection agencies still get involved. And I still can't pay them. I owe doctors, dentists, chiropractors, my boss...not to mention a credit card I haven't touched in over a decade that has been transferred around five or six different collection agencies. The last one said, "You owe $2412...we'll let you off for $1500." Yeah...cuz I HAVE $1500 at any one time in my life! NOT! Jesus, that's more than an entire paycheck, and my rent takes up a whole one itself. And paying everyone each month? Doesn't happen.

Why? Because I need gas and food, that's why. There is nowhere else to cut expenses. Do not think I haven't looked.

And, yes, you helpful folks, I HAVE looked into help. I make too much money.

How's THAT for a laugh?!

At the end of the month, I do not have money for gas unless I take it out of the rent, which then costs me $35 + $5 a day of overdraft fees when the bank covers it anyway. By the end of the month, we are pretty close to foodless. And I am not wasting my money all over the place; it just isn't enough. My paycheck and child support goes to the following: rent, gas, car expenses (insurance, payment, etc.), food, personal toiletries. For the most part, that's IT.

(And I have two teenage daughters, so you can imagine how the last two expenses grow.)

I am having a lot of trouble getting my mind around the fact that I can work full time and still not make a close-to-decent living. This seems completely WRONG in the Universe.

Thus, my vultures start up periodically, no matter how positively I try to think.

Right this minute, I am NOT overdrawn. For once. But the vultures closed in today. They are cawing (or whatever vultures DO) on and on, ad nauseum, about how I will never make ends meet, I will always have to go without something, I will never make enough to keep us in anything close to "okay" standard of living, and I will never be able to live in peace with being in debt and will never be able to NOT panic over gas money and food.

So, you will notice there is no "solution" here.

Nope.

Wasn't trying to help show anyone the way this round...just expressing myself.

I Wanna Be a Derby Girl!

In my next life, I'm going to do roller derby.

Not in this life, because, well...in this life I cannot skate, I bruise easily and I dislike pain.

But next life, roller derby goes in there with surfing and midwifery and having a spouse.

Reasons Roller Derby Rocks:

1. Have you SEEN their bods?! So in shape and strong; it is awe-inspiring!

(Besides, strong thighs are HOT!)

2. Women, quite simply, ROCK.

3. Let's say the E word, people: EMPOWERMENT.

4. Battle cries. I still adore "HIGH OCTANE PUSSY!" myself, but since I have only just begun to watch Rollergirls, Season 1, a new fave may be in the offing.

5. Costumes, glam, safety gear with stickers. (At least if you watch it on TV!)

6. In my town, the posters are fucking HOT.

7. And lastly...sometimes even the nicest girls feel the need to push someone over with force.

Santa Cruz has it's own team, which makes me no end of giddy: the Santa Cruz Derby Girls! They are an Apprentice team in the Women's Flat Track Derby Association.

This is where you can find them: http://santacruzderbygirls.org/

You will notice, should you go take a gander, that we have THREE teams in this little town, whose members generally, it seems, skate for more than one team each: the Boardwalk Bombshells, the Harbor Hellcats, and the Beach Flat Betties (that'd be MY 'hood!), although this year's lineup on the website doesn't have the Betties shown, so...who knows what is happening there.

And why does little Santa Cruz have three teams? Because little Santa Cruz is COOL AS HELL! Yep, we are. We cannot help it. It's in the water, or the air...or something.

I am actually acquainted with one of the ladies, and I always DID think she was the coolest chick ever, so to see her skating is no surprise.

I have not been out to see our teams in real-live action, but their season starts in March, and I plan on catching them then...gods, I hope they sell T-shirts, because if there is one thing I am good for, it is wearing fan clothing and spreading the word!

I always knew roller derby existed, but never knew details, or anyone who skated, or how it worked. You, too, can be in the know: http://www.wftda.com/ There ARE actually rules, and a point to the game, and it ain't like that 70s flick Rollerball, either. (Whew! Thank the gods for THAT!)

Like a bad penny...

I always turn up again!
And here I am.
Rather than ennumerate the massive happenings of 2009, I shall do a few sentences to fill you all in, and then FORWARD HO!
*Thank the gods it is over.
*My back is better.
*Genevieve got a Corgihuahua named Yoda. He's a spaz, but loving and too cute to hate.
*Allie is back living with us, not as a foster, just as a 17-year-old human.
*My auntie had a tumor in her breast. I heard right after Christmas. Surgery was Monday.
*We are moving back to Iowa this summer. I cannot afford Santa Cruz anymore. Actually, I never could, really. Time to give in and get a better standard of living.
*I met some HippyMoms. I love them. Forever.
*Haven't dated in a year. Cannot decide if I miss it.
*Small identity crisis happened. Or rather, not small, but short-lived. I think I am over the panicky part of it.
*Genevieve is sixteen. I am old.

That's 2009 in a nutshell!

Welcome to 2010: the Year I Change My Life.
I do not make resolutions. I find that making resolutions puts too much pressure on us, and sets us up to feel like crap when we "fail". And life gives us enough of those moments without setting ourselves up.
So, here are my intentions, not resolutions:

*Drink more water. LOTS more.
*Cut down on the sugar. This will be VERY difficult, as I am a junkie.
*Get a pap/pelvic/mammogram. Even IF the co-pay is really tough to come up with.
*Sell off a lot of stuff in preparation for moving.
*Move this summer, back home to Iowa, with four pets, two teenage daughters, me, and my car.
*Find a job or two in Iowa THAT I ENJOY.
*Find a way not to work full time.
*Eat better. Eat less. Eat when hungry.
*Move more.
*BLOG. REGULARLY!
*Don't run out of toilet paper.
*Make art.
*Clean out my Yahoo mailbox. I have crap...er, mail... in there from last August.
*Save some money.
*Plan a trip to see some Hippies again.
*Live somewhere with less linoleum, and room for everyone.
*Make stuff. Sell it on etsy.com.
*Get all the animals to the vet for check-ups.
*Make more time for ME. Just me.
*Stop sacrificing My True Self so completely for Mom Me.
*Find joy.
*Laugh everyday.

That's all I can think of right now.
It doesn't look too unmanageable for a year...

See you soon!

Bigotry in the U.S.

Okay, take a gander at the email I received today:





"USPS New 44-Cent Stamp!!! Celebrates Muslim holiday.

If there is only ONE thing you forward today... let it be this!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of Pan Am Flight 103!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine Barracks in Lebanon !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military Barracks in Saudi Arabia !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001 !
REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!
Now President Obama has directed the United States Postal Service to REMEMBER and HONOR the EID MUSLIM holiday season with a new commemorative 42 Cent First Class Holiday Postage Stamp..
REMEMBER to adamantly & vocally BOYCOTT this stamp, when you are purchasing your stamps at the post office.
All you have to say is "No thank you, I do not want that Muslim Stamp on my letters!"

To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.
REMEMBER ~pass this along to every Patriotic AMERICAN that you know and lets get the word out !!!
Here is something to chew on...
They (MUSLIMS) don't even believe in Christ, & they're getting their own Christmas stamp! BUT, don't dare to dream of posting the ten commandments on federal property! This is truly UNBELIEVABLE !!! "

Now prepare for my wrath.

First off, you seemingly incredibly-bigoted, narrow-minded, self-important muckraking, fly-off-the-handle, panic-spreading reactionists: the postal service has been printing this stamp FOR YEARS! Note the picture above…when postage was 33 cents. So your muckraking Obama-bashing on this is completely off the mark. Your Republican-hero past presidents ALSO "directed" this stamp released, every year. THIS HOLIDAY IS ALREADY BEING COMMEMORATED, and has been for YEARS! Our President is not “directing” anything!

In simple fact, this stamp is gorgeous, and I have purposefully purchased them for my Christmas cards for the last two years, to contribute to the holiday ideal of a peaceful and loving holiday season.

You have taken patriotism to the lowest possible level, to the point where it is no longer patriotism but full-out, undeniable BIGOTRY! I, for one, am in NO WAY this kind of “American”…I even go so far as to say that your reactionary bigotry is UN-American. Yes, that is what I said. UN-American. And, judging from your final lines, I think I can safely say you are also incredibly and undeniably UN-Christian, as well.

Most sane people are able to remember the TERRORIST bombings and attacks. They were awful and horrendous and insane…but generalizing that all Muslims are, or agree with, the terrorist factions is pure hatred and insane bigotry loosely and poorly disguised as patriotism…and THAT is a large part of what is wrong with America today, folks.

Americans are no more holy or learned or “right” than any other country, and Christians are no more holy or learned or “right” than any other religion’s adherents. What incredible hubris it is, to begin with, for any human to think they know what God wants or would do or thinks, and to presume to take His wrath into their own hands through word or deed!

People having different religious views from yours is not a crime. People not believing in your god does not mean that they are lesser, or wrong, or evil. All religions, all holidays, all celebrations of faith are equally valid, and should be equally respected as the celebrations of faith and hope and love that they are. God is sure as hell not nearly as judgmental as you people are…at least you had better HOPE not, since your path is one of darkness and hatred, and completely oversteps the boundaries that any god has set up for his followers to begin with!

By the way, the Eid stamp is NOT a CHRISTMAS stamp. It is a HOLIDAY stamp, which is why it comes out with the Christmas, winter, and Kwanzaa stamps. And I will probably buy them again this year…partly because of your outrageous email, to be honest.

By the way, I do not want the ten commandments posted, either…and I am not Muslim!Christianity is NOT the only religion in the world…nor should it be.

So chew on THAT!

August 28th Doings

Being in the car accident at the end of June not only reminded me what a gift it is to NOT have to be sedentary, but also gave me a lot of time to read. With my newfound limits, a lot of books didn't get finished--my limit being, "You are 40. If a book does not make you want to finish it by page 40, let it go and move on." Quite a few books got let go, which was good for my towering bookshelf, even if it did not make much visible difference!


Thanks to a huge fine on my library card from letting my daughter check out books on it, I skipped the library most of the summer. Last week I finally paid the $20 fine. Today, August 28th, I left the house, which is irritating me near to the point of violent acting-out---I could FEEL myself about to start throwing shit--and went to the library. There were books on hold for me, to go with the books I checked out last week, and I decided if I could get to a quiet, preferably windowside table, I would treat myself to reading. Just reading. In the cool library, as it was hot out already at 11a.m., surrounded by books. Surrounded by books is one of my favorite places to be, in the entire universe, ever.


So, I put on jeans that don't really match my orangey tank, my pretty orange flowered shoes, and slapped my favorite sun hat onto my head to hide my greasy hair. These things combined--not matching, not caring to wash my hair--should tell those of you who know me exactly how irritated I had become...I never do not match in public. Ever. And rarely in provate. (To my credit, the hat goes with the tank well, and the tank goes well with the shoes, although the hat and the flowered shoes together?...not so much. And these jeans with the bling on the pockets--not really with anything. But they are clean. But, I digress...


I ran to the post office to mail off my Netflix. I got cash. I got to the library at 10:40, parked in the only-locals-know-this-is-free parking lot next to the library, under one of the library trees---I love trees---and started reading, waiting for the library to open at 11. Grayson by Lynne Cox.


There was less of a homeless population than usual waiting to snatch up the tables for a nap inside today. I got the books I had on hold, and found one of the best seats in the library---it faces city hall and overlooks a nice little corner of benched landscaping, and is shielded by a large maple tree that sits out from it on the parking. I love this tree because not only is it taller than the building, but it has thrived even though they have paved and added more cement around it until it's 7' x 18" patch is the only dirt around (until they landscaped under the windows of course), but the tree itself is still surrounded on all sides by lifeless concrete. City Hall has a yard, and lots of trees, so it's a good view. Very green. The only seat better than this is the corner one, but it's closer to an intersection, too---more traffic noise.


So, I got "my table", and kept reading Grayson. By 12:26, I had finished it, feeling a little misty and a lot jealous of the author. Grayson is about a baby gray whale and a swimmer, a true story that took place when the author was 17, over just a few hours of her life, and it ends happily. No one dies, no one is hurt, there are no guns or murder or lawyers or pain and suffering to a large degree. Sitting in the library, it did not make me cry with happiness; at home, alone, however, it may have. It made me want to go to the beach. It made me want to start life over and work for the Marine Mammal Center. It made me wish I could swim well enough to ocean swim. And it reminded me of a few very important things about living a full life, and being connected to the Universe.


It's a short book (only 147 pages), a quick read, and you should all read it. All of you, yes. Read it to your kids, too. Give it to everyone you know for their birthdays. I am not kidding. I myself am going to go out and buy my own copy, and put it in the place of honor on my bookshelf, next to Harold and the Purple Crayon, The Eight, and Mists of Avalon. And I fully plan to reread it at least once a year. And go whale-watching at least every two years for the rest of my life. Maybe even be nicer to my daughter's hellbound cat. Maybe.


I came home after an older hippie man, smelling of smoke and dirt, sat down to share the table with me at the library. Steve. Very polite. Introduced himself. Asked if he could give me his number. I nicely said no. Bet the VW van parked down from me was his, too.


Traded my jeans for my comfy sushi-print pants (which still don't match my tank), made some fries, read all night...sometimes, despite all the negative, life is good.

Long Time, No See

Well, hello there. I am back, talking to myself, most probably, but here I am...my own little corner of cyberspace, which I have been neglecting for a long time now.

Let's just chalk it all up to life getting a little...difficult...for awhile, and move on.

Yes, the jellyfish is still squishing...

I do not want to dwell on the difficulties, so let me just summarize (I am sure I will want to talk about it in more depth someday, but this is not that day):

*April 15: turned 40. Not happily. I am not fond of 40 yet.

*June 28th: Car accident. Rear ended by woman who never touched brakes until after she hit me. Car totalled. Me hurt. Daughter spared, aside from a 24 hour headache.

*June-July: Both car parties have same insurance company; I still get screwed (by my OWN insurance company, yes.

*Late July: Get financed on a used 2007 Kia Spectra. Silver. Boring. But necessary. Also got lawyer.

*August 1-present: Severe life dissatisfaction. In search of...what? Still trying to figure that out.

There ya go. Nutshelled.

I've been watching a lot of Netflix this summer. (That happens when you can't sit upright for very long.) I've watched so much...shit. Truly, there were two weeks where everything I watched was crappy. Except The Closer. That's a fun show.

But NOW...now I find, surprisingly, that I REALLY enjoy Sons of Anarchy. Why does this surprise me? Well, first, I do not look like a biker babe, or anyone who would ever be someone's Old Lady, as far as I can tell. Secondly, I will never be a big fan of illegal activities, killing, gun running, or drugs, which are the basic activities in the show, to be honest. But I like the show anyway. Well, yes, Ron Perlman IS a god, Hellboy makeup or not, so there is that. He is actually the reason I watched the first disc. But now I find that I genuinely LIKE the show, despite everything about the plot that I would seem diametrically opposed to. I've run through the first two discs of season one already, and must say, I am truly getting a good and cathartic release from the violence...what's not to like about tossing a stalker through a plate glass window, I ask you? Besides...they blow shit up a lot. As long as it isn't reality, I love watching things blow up.

So, there ya go. My first venture back into my blog.

It ain't exciting, but it's a start.

Friends With Benefits

First, allow me to be up-front: I have had a few male FWBs.

Now, maybe it is just because I never paid attention, or maybe it is just because I really just wanted what I thought was the affection of these arrangements, but either way, I have come to some realizations recently about the state of FWB.

I do not think they are sustainable, especially if you have a strong moral and ethical fiber and actually WANT someone to grow old with at some point.

Hear me out. I have some experience here.

First, what I have come to see as the BASIC problem...men and women do NOT, AT ALL, define things the same way. The definitions are different for all of the the following terms: Friends, With, and Benefits.

Let us break it down:

Friends- Men and women do not treat their friends the same way, even without Benefits. To men, a FWB friend means he does not have to call, answer calls, remember birthdays, pretend to know a woman in public, take her anywhere at all, or tell anyone about her existence. To women, that is not ANY kind of friendship at all.

Dichotomy of Me

I am a puzzle...wrapped up in an enigma blahblahblah...

• I am right-handed...and I play pool left-handed.
• I am very learned in grammar...and I make up words.
• I am very grounded...but I daydream constantly.
  I love all animals...but I truly hate my daughter's cat.
• I love tattoos...but I have none.
• I have solid self-esteem...but I dislike most pictures of myself.
• I have an artistic, non-linear, free-for-all personality...but when my mind is frazzled and confused, I do Find-A-Word puzzles in a strict, methodical, regimented way.
• I adore makeup...but I do not wear it very often.
• I love seeing movies in the theater...but I only go if someone else takes me.
• I have a positive outlook...but sometimes I am absolutely certain that the world is both already in hell and positively irredeemable.
• I love the beach, even in winter...but I rarely go.
• I am proud of my life, but also prone to POFFs: Profound Overwhelming Feelings of Failure.
• 
  
  
  

Joints...(no, not that kind...)

Hello again.

It's been raining here in the Bay area for almost 24 hours now...again...

I like rain, now that I used my Super Secret Skillz to change the flow of the drainspout on my "house". Although my pug, Emme, does NOT like rain. I barely get her outside to pee, and only if I go ALL the way out with her!, and she saves up her poop for later. (Thankfully, this morning my daughter came upon her doodie gift first, so she had to clean it up.)

But this is not really the point. Get to the Mowie Wowie, maaan, I hear you saying...

Wrong joints, dude.

I have been noticing, increasingly this month, that...my body is acting OLD. There is no other word to use. OLD.

This is SO WRONG.

I am not even 40 yet! (Not til April anyhow.)

But literally every joint in my body aches. Almost all the time. I remember when I was little and achy joints and being affected by cold were things I associated with my great-grandma...and now...here I am. But she was in her 90s at the time!...I am 39. I live in a relatively mild climate. And my body feels like it is disintegrating.

One friend keeps throwing the word "arthritis" around, because she has had it for quite awhile now.

All I know is that my visits to the doctor every June come out okay...but my body hurts like I am old and decrepit.

So, I try to better my health. I take my vitamins. I just started some glucosomine/chondroitin supplements. I drink more water, and I TRY to make myself exercise---when my joints don't hurt so much it is a struggle to stand up from the couch after 10 minutes!

My left knee is also marfed up...I can feel a tendon? muscle? something flip like a

rubber band in it when I bend it. VERY disturbing.

I DO NOT WANT TO BE OLD!

I want to magically change time in the world, as follows: I think you should only have to be as old as you LOOK.

I would only have to be about 27-30, I am told. That was waaay before I started hurting like THIS!

My 60+ mom could be 50 again!

My 70 year old dad...well...still 70. Sorry, Dad...it was the booze and cigs, I'm thinking.

My daughter...crap. Most days she would be 18. I can't have that!

Anyway...

I was not upset with 30. (But I did freak out at 31.)

I am not so upset about the number 40 itself.

I do not feel that I am old yet, as I turn 40.

In fact, when I see Facebook ads about "such n such is pushing 40 but looks 28!", I get offended. Where is she pushing it TO, exactly? And why does 40 seem like a death threat in advertising? I am a more complete and intelligent and loving and together human now than I have ever been, all things considered.

But my body feels like I am already old.

But I don't think that is about a NUMBER...I think that is about something altogether different.

And as hard as I try, I still don't feel old.

But some nights when it gets chilly, I still almost wish I had a walker.

I haven't blogged in awhile. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I find there are periods of life where nothing but negativity comes out when I attempt to express myself or look on that elusive "bright side" people like to harp upon. So, I've just kept my mouth shut, aside from a few very frustrated remarks on Facebook.
When it comes right down to it, here's the deal:
I chose to have a child "out of wedlock", even after the father left me, and chose to rear said child alone anyway. (I did the right thing. I will never regret her. EVER.)
BUT this meant a great deal of letting go of dreams and hopes for the future I HAD planned. What I had planned became irrelevant as soon as I decided against an abortion.
The future I planned was NOT the following: to raise a child on welfare, and then without welfare when I had a job that was "too well-paying" for assistance, but not well-paying enough to make ends meet. I did not plan to be 39 and still borrow money from my parents, knowing that THEY aren't made of money themselves, especially with one of them retired. I did not plan to have no savings, ever. (Okay, I exaggerated: I HAVE a savings account...it has $.011 in it, and I have held onto that balance for 9 months at least. Rah, sis boom bah.) I did not plan to have bills I cannot pay, no matter how much I plan to be and want to be financially responsible. I did not plan to have to choose between gas to go to work and bouncing the rent check, or bouncing the rent to be able feed my child at the end of the month, and paying the bank fees out of the NEXT check if I can get them to pay on the check anyway. (Which they no longer will, regardless. But they USED to do it for me. Why not? It benefitted them to the tune of at least a hundred dollars a month! Desperate poeple are GREAT for business!)
I was SO THRILLED in January because I ended up with $17 left in my checking account for gas, to hold me over until my check got deposited on the 2nd. $17 versus being overdrawn---I practically wanted to have a party to celebrate my success! I was SO proud.
Oh but wait...car registration of $212.00, due January 12, paid a month late out of necessity. So, really...$17 counts for nothing.
And before anyone starts harping on my money-management skills: to manage, one must HAVE money. If you looked at my balance sheet, you would wonder how the hell we eat after the most necessary bills DO get paid...and that's just bills for the car and a roof over our heads. And, yes, I DO live the cheapest accomodations possible for two people.
Sorry, but I have heard it all, folks. All the "It MUST be your fault!" BS, all the "It must be YOU that is the problem in the equation!" BS, the "YOU must be doing something wrong!" BS...
Ahem...back to what I was saying...
All the things people list to me as things we can do without, we already don't have: we don't have cable; we don't even have TV reception anyhow because we would need cable to get a signal where we live. We don't have cell phones that we pay for; my daughter is 15 and the only one of her friends without one, and I only have one because my boss pays for it, and rumor has it that THAT arrangement is going to end as well, so we won't have one at all, as I cannot afford to put any money toward one. We don't eat out. We don't buy expensive or unnecessary groceries, or presents for friends' birthdays or Christmas gifts. We don't get our nails done, our hair cut, or go to the eye doctor or dentist regularly. We only go to the doctor if we are so sick it is impossible to carry on with our daily lives over for a week. Our internet connection is through our basic phone service, which does not include long distance. Long distance calls to my mom get made on that cell phone that will be disappearing soon. No one else gets called. Ever. Even my mom knows to leave a message that ends in, "Don't call me back! I will call YOU back!" I do not have a retirement account or investments. I do not have a college account for my daughter for college...although I guess I could give her the $0.11 savings. If she isn't bright and lucky enough to get assistance to go, I cannot send her. And yes, that DOES make me feel like a failure.
And guess what, folks? I work a full time 9-5 job, and get paid what amounts to a good administrative salary in this area of the country.
And the ends still do not meet. Ever.
And, yes, I AM grateful to HAVE a job in this economy. I KNOW people are getting laid off left and right. I KNOW how hard things are. But I have to tell ya: I saw a blurb about how this "new, lower-standard" of living we are in may last for awhile...and I LAUGHED. I literally laughed until I cried, because THIS IS NOT NEW FOR ME! I HAVE BEEN LIVING LIKE THIS FOR MOST OF 15 YEARS! People are having to sell their boats and their second cars and take pay cuts and not go to movies or eat out as much? PUH-LEEZE! Jesus Christ...I cannot even imagine such a GOOD reality for my life.
Done ranting. Don't bother to leave bitchy comments...shitting on people at the very bottom of the societal ladder is just cruel.

WHOOHOO ME!

I am SO giving myself BIG KUDOS in my own blog today!

I am so proud of myself, even though I bitch about it...

It's amazing, it's stupendous, it's life-changing!...

Yes, IT IS TRUE!...

I am drinking SO MUCH MORE WATER, it is shocking to me!

I started at the beginning of the month, deciding I had to take all my vitamins, pills, etc. with water from then on out. (And I have daily meds and vitamins, so, that was a good place to start.)

Then last week, I decided I had to drink a big ole cup of water between my Cherry Pepsis at work.

No matter what.

One day this week, I actually drank more water than Pepsi.

I can see a difference already...my skin's better. I sleep better.

Of course, I also have to pee all the damn time,

but that's just how it is when your body gets healthy, I guess.

I'm 39 and 10/12ths years old...and I am finally drinking water.

I feel like such a Water Goddess...

And I'm sure I will eventually start LIKING drinking water...right?

Iowa

I just joined (another) Iowa group on Facebook. There's a thread about what people assume and say about Iowa and Iowans that piss us off.

So I thought about it...

I live in California now, going on eight years.

I get the Potato State thing a lot. I have learned to just say, "No, corn." They usually respond, "Ooooh yeah! Isn't that over in the east somewhere?" I tell them to check just off-center of any U.S. map.

People also seem to assume that everything in Iowa is tiny...including cities. "You had THREE malls? In IOWA?! No way!" Yep, and that was only in Des Moines, not Iowa overall. I now live in Santa Cruz, which is SMALLER than Des Moines, the capital city, where I grew up. (One mall, by the way. For Santa Cruz AND its suburbs and surrounding towns!)

Also, the farm assumption. I have had to tell even my closest friends here that NO, I did not grow up on a farm, and the only time I was on one was when I went home with someone who did, in college; they are somewhat shocked and aghast.

There has also been surprise that we have so many colleges, and that they are not tiny and backward places, but places where you can actually LEARN and go on to live a good and productive life!


Also that we have art and museums and botanical centers and libraries and shopping and even things NOT about covered bridges!

I have actually read a few books where they say things like, "...the Tony awards...and in case you live in Iowa and have no idea what those are..." and stupid things like that. It makes me sad that the writers need someone to belittle to make them feel good.

I think that it embarrasses people to think that not everyone WANTS to be New York or California....like Iowa must be SO hick because they don't WANT a huge crowded mass of immoral, self-serving people crowded together. (No offense to the PEOPLE of NY and L.A., but c'mon...that's all we hear about...and now that I live in California, I can tell you: most of it is justified.)

I have taken to telling people that Iowa is an AWESOME place to raise kids: that we grow up moral and kind, polite and friendly, educated, and less screwed-up in general, and just NICE...and then we go out into the rest of the world and spread it around.

I do not get annoyed anymore, after all these years. I chock it up to other people's arrogance and lack of knowledge about the country they live in.

I, like most Iowans of my generation, I think, wanted OUT of Iowa in adulthood. I finally left, child in tow, at 31. And y'know what? I am thinking I might just move back.

There is something to be said for a decent, affordable standard of living, thunderstorms, fresh produce, and the Andersen-Erickson Dairy. And you cannot get a better tenderloin than you can get in Iowa. DAMN, I tell ya! Pork and beef ,(not to mention corn), there are the best in the world, bar none. And Iowa is SO GREEN! And you get people who are, more often than not, genuinely NICE and helpful and accepting of others. And y'know what else? I am PROUD to have been raised in Iowa.

I miss it.

If it had an ocean, I probably never would have left.

Finally, a little bit o'joy in the morning!

Now, as much as I joke about my daughter the TEENAGER (insert scary zombie movie music here), she really is NOT a bad kid. Bad for her is not the same as bad for anyone else I know...I DO realize that. I worked hard to get her to this point, and it IS paying off...Like me, Genevieve is NOT a morning person. In fact, we are both of the notion that commerce and such should not start until noonish.

SO, here is the first truly joyous and unexpected morning we have had in YEARS.Happened this morning:

Her cat woke me up at 4 a.m., howling next to my bed...for the second morning in a row. I closed her out of my room, and tried to go back to sleep. MY cat started buggin me at 6. (Note: the alarm does not go off until 7.) Kicked her out too. The pug, wisely, values sleep as much as me and Genevieve, and so went back to bed with me. (None of this is the joy....wait for it.)Genevieve got up early to take a shower. I heard her do it. SO, my alarm goes off at 7, and I ignore it for ten minutes.

But, y'know...the bladder. SO, I get up, blearly-eyed and cotton-brained from the 4 and 6 a.m. wakeup calls by pets who obviously WANT to have their lives ended, and I go into the bathroom and while the dog and I are sitting there (she follows me EVERYWHERE, people...and that early in the morning, I do not care), and suddenly my nose wakes up. What is that smell?! Maybe Genevieve made herself cup o'noodle for breakfast, cuz it smells like FOOD, and that just does NOT happen in our house in the morning.

So we toddle on out to the "Feed me, bitch!" howls of the cats, and...

It will be a shock...

My daughter, clad in a bathrobe and with her hair still in a towel, says, in a cheerful voice (which I never hear before noon usually!), "Good morning, Momma! I made you EGGS!"

I'm sorry...what?

I rub my eyes, and squint at her, and she babbles, "I was up early, and I watched Brianna make fried eggs yesterday at her house, so...I made you eggs! If they are bad, you don't have to eat them, it's my first time, and I won't be mad.You'll also notice there are SIX eggs missing, and you and I only have two eggs each..."

I'm sorry--are those happy, full sentences coming out of this child at 7:15a.m.?! Where is Rod Serling?

"Buuuut...my first egg like folded itself into an accordian so that was no good. And the second one I dropped on the floor so...yeah. The cats were all over that one, but I stopped them!"

Ooookay. Is my child on drugs?

"So, you go ahead and take the dog out, and I'll put your plate in the microwave so the cats don't get it!"

Ummmm...okay.

Of course, it is raining outside, so the dog is very UNwilling to do her thing so I can get back to this thing I think is called..."breakfast?" So, a good five minutes later, I'm back. Genevieve is nowhere to be found (which means she has gone to her scary room), so I think maybe I DID imagine it, and I feed the animals.And then I open the microwave.

It's true. A plate. With two eggs and two pieces of toast. Perfect toast. Waiting to made into the perfect egg sandwich.

I am now awake. Shock will do that to a body, even at 7 a.m.

So I sit on the couch and eat my eggs and toast. The dog comes to make sure I don't drop any. I don't. Aside from the fact that my mom always made runny-yolk fried eggs, and these are completely fried, I must say...damn good. A little cold. Not her fault.

Genevieve comes out as I am eating the last few bites. I had TRIED to savor the meal and go slow, but...it was too good. And surprising. I ate like they were going to disappear.

"Mom, are they okay? If they aren't okay, don't eat them, it's OKAY."

"No, they are wonderful. Thank you. I appreciate them very much!"

"Really? Cuz it's okay. Did you feed that to the dog?"

"OH hell no, I did not feed that to the dog. It's good. I'm eatin it all myself."

"Really? Cuz it's my first time, so tell me if something is bad."

"Uhuh"

"Oh good!"

And then, she hits me with it. The coup de grace. The killing stroke.

"I've decided I am going to cook a LOT more, cuz I mean, you dont LIKE to cook, and I DO, so...you buy the food, I'll cook it for you."

I'm sorry...I think I feel an aneurism coming on...repeat that?

So, I say the only thing I can think of..."Cool. Does that mean you'll make those red velvet cupcakes tonight then?"

"Well, I don't get home from that dance performance until...well I dont know, it doesn't start until 7:30, so I dont know if I'll be back in time, but I'll make them Saturday. And when I DO get back tonight, we'll have ice cream sundaes!"

I can HEAR my eyelids blinking...plink.plink.plink.

Okay.

I immediately have to text the friends I text. One has a teenager (well, he is 20 NOW) from hell, and one is a teacher. I get great hoorays from the former; she tells me "There is a human in there with a big heart under all the alien teenager. Awwwww thats more than awesome!" The latter: that's great. What does she want from you?heh heh

Now, last night I DID just cobble together every ounce of cash I had so the child could go to said dance performance with her friends tonight, BUT...her usual modus operandi is to get what she wants and turn grumpy and unappreciative again immediately. And she IS a generally free child...unless I have a reason, she does get to do what she wants to, after homework, chores, responsibilities held up...she IS poor, but she also DOES get to choose her life for the most part.

So, I am neither getting my hopes up that she WILL cook a lot, nor downplaying the proposed gift I see the offer as. I mean, this IS the child who whined because I asked her to make a Cup o' Noodle for ME, too, when she made herself one last week...BUT she is also a really great kid, with a wonderful heart.

So, I decided that, just for today, I would live in the moment and appreciate the hell out those eggs she made me.

And I do.

I SO do.

And from now on, I am keeping the freezer stocked with bacon...just in case she does it again. Bacon would make it even better.

Health Class Day 2

Yesterday was talk-about-sex day. My daughter had not had such a good day at school, and I had to beg and wheedle to hear about health, but she gave in. She even read me her notes.

Basically, they talked about what sex is, definitionally-speaking. And then they talked about the difference between "making love" and fucking, which "he calls PORN". (She even wrote "PORN!" next to the list in her notes.) Making love, of course, dealt with commitment and relationship and responsibility and deeper feelings than physical ones. Fucking/PORN! was pretty much the opposite.

I asked my daughter if the guys in the class were upset at the teacher blowing all their lies/lines out of the water in his talks, and she said the guys don't say much of anything...she suspects they are just trying to concentrate on NOT getting erections during class, since the teacher admitted that males can get erections for any old thought that pops into their heads, unbidden, at anytime. I think the guys are now afraid the girls are looking to see if they have hard-ons all the time! (They aren't--the girls are actually participating in the discussions more than checkin out the boys.)

I didn't tell her that particular challenge stays with them forever, and that I suspect men have to fight that battle until the day they die!

Bored...

Wow, I am completely bored right now. And I really have nothing to say. I seem to have finished all my tasks, and need to go find more to do. My boss #2 brought me a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Frapp with whip (ALWAYS with whip for ME!) and I am happily guzzling it down and calling it lunch. I actually ate my lunch at 10:17 a.m., because I had taken all my meds and vitamins and had a stomach ache, so I needed to throw something digestable at it. Which is fine, because I have to go buy cat food and yogurt for my stomach during my lunch hour anyhow. Well, YOGURT for my stomach and cat food for our cats, who I gave a dish of cat treats this morning for breakfast, as I underestimated the amount of food they had left, and found it a teensy-tiny amount. Fastest they had ever eaten, though! Musta been yummier than the food usually is. And it kind of bothers me that I had to write myself a postie to remind myself about the cat food and the yogurt. I am not old enough yet to have a failing memory. I think my memory is just lazy...but I still remember most things in pinpoint-accurate detail without trying. That made the drunken college days more painful--other people could forget their stupidity...I NEVER forgot mine. Oh! I have to pee! Finally, something new to do!