Wednesday, September 30, 2009

don't feel me

The worst is over now.

I can fake it with the best of anyone.

I don't know much... and I can guess the rest.

What I've learned in the past 24 hrs:
Don't try to hop without crutches while not wearing a bra. It damages other areas. Crawling simplifies life.

Best quote of the week:
Man says to the woman, "Here, try on my pants."
"I can't get into them"
"I know, and don't you forget that. I wear the pants in this relationship."
Wife retaliates, "Well here, try on my panties."
"I can't get into them."
"That's right, and keep up your fucking attitude and you never will!"


Frodo Baggins foot still plagues me. Doctor says I can't drive. Lucky me.

Is that like strike two on the driving scene?

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

frodo foot

Still laid up in the evenings, but I made it through 10 1/2 hrs at work today. Co-workers swung by to check on me & offer me a hand for anything I needed all day. My Supervisor surprised me with a cup of java my style: 1/2 coffee, 1/2 hot chocolate, along with a chunk of French Toast casserole brought in for the carry-in. I'm loved :)

My "good" armpits held out for yet another day of crutches.

Let me just say that my 3 1/2 days on the couch have caught me up on 3 years of tv. The red team on Biggest Loser, Sean & Antoine, you're my new hereos. Kelley, you purple flea bag, karma's got plans for a nice brunch at your lunch table, hoochie. That's all I have to say about that.
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Monday, September 28, 2009

watch your step

Graceful has never been a word used to describe me. Nor has coordinated ever been. Let me sum this picture up in one word:


Ironically not a dare devil attempt, or even motion in general. I stepped off the board to allow my daughter to have a go, apparently walking is my issue. I stepped, twisted, and crumbled.

Poor April sat by my side as her 3 munchkins kept my oldest 2 busy in the hospital ER room. Nothing broken, as I had originally feared, merely sprained my foot. I wish it were only as "merely" as that word implies.

I'm off my bike, board, and any other foot activity for a few weeks. The crutches give me one heck of an upper body workout though.

I casually expressed my fear that a crutch would slip out of my armpit mid stride and I would go kiltering off to the side, injuring my foot again and making me look like a goof falling in front of whomever, because that's how my life works, to my roommate Tammie. She shakes her head no.
"You have good armpits honey"

Good armpits? Is that possible?
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Friday, September 25, 2009

p.b. and ... pinto beans?

My crazy mind has been concocting wild peanut butter creations. One day I’m going to create a line of peanut butter items, including:
pop tarts
coffee creamer
breakfast pizza (just picture it: pb & honey, pb & banana, pb & marshmallow, and the infamous pb&j)
chewing gum
hot chocolate flavor
dipping sauce (for chicken, pretzels, crackers)

This morning got off to a slow start for me. I needed to pep it up with some caffeine but I don’t drink pop (because of the taste more so than the health ramifications). Coffee doesn’t rank on my list of favorite drinks and I haven’t found a creamer that really changes my perspective yet. I have a jar of honey flavored creamy peanut butter in my desk drawer (for inspirational purposes) and a few Hershey Kisses. A spoonful of peanut butter & a Hershey Kiss changes coffee from BLECH into YUMMY!

While I’m on the food kick, some ideas for ranch dressing aficionados:
Scrambled eggs
Mexican rice

**This extreme craziness may be the effect of the giant carry-in that has been set up right across the tiny little 6-foot make-shift wall directly behind me. I can smell everything.**

When Diane came to get me for break this morning, she stopped to sniff the aroma; “Smells like McDonald’s ketchup.” All I smell is chili & nachos. McDonald's ketchup? Really?

Yesterday, in my 10th hour of work, I hung up the phone disgusted with the goofy UHC representative that I had just spoken with and loudly exclaimed “Cheese & Rice!” in exasperation. My supervisor replied, “Pinto Beans?” from around the corner.
“You said Cheese & Rice, but I don’t know why, so I replied Pinto Beans.”
“Uh, Cheese & Rice is my replacement phrase for the J.C. phrase, get it?”
“Ooooooh! How about Mac & Cheese instead?”
“….. You don’t get it.”

I maintain that it is the work environment – there’s something in the air here that breeds dysfunctional brain cell activity.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

seeing red

Standing at the time-clock
digging in my purse for my badge to swipe out for lunch
the line behind me growing
realization that the annoying thing dangling from my shoulder
restricting my view from my purse
IS my badge
the one that I’m searching for


pushing the door open
realizing my wrist is still painfully sore
the heavy door pushing back against me
eeking out a slight *ouch*
letting go of the door to catch it with my hip
the hip that I’ve also bruised from the same skateboarding fall
jumping away from the door
cursing at my stupidity

Diane mildly stating
“Doesn’t matter what color you try to cover it up with, you’re still a blonde.”
They say freak
When your singled out
The red...
It filters through
So lay down
The threat is real
When his sight
Goes red again
Seeing red again

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

v8 anyone?

Remember that commercial for V8 where the whole world is tilted? "Should've had your V8!" Not one of my favorite drinks, but the advertisement came to mind after April & I took these pics.

I don't know that words will do justice to the rampage that presented itself as my life last Friday, but here we go in an attempt.

* Wake up sicker than haydes & already 15 mins past the time that I'm supposed to be at work. What does this mean? CALL IN!

* Stumble into the bathroom to take a long hot shower to clear my head, only the switch produced no light, merely the empty clicking of a route uninhibited by electrical current. What? Thought ... process ... not ... coherent ... only .... severe .... pounding. Back to bed. FLOP

* Awake again just after Noon. Text roommate WHY DON'T WE HAVE ELECTRIC? DID YOU PAY THE BILL?? YOU NEED TO DUMP THAT GUY, HE'S SUCKING YOUR MONEY DRY & I WANT TO SHOWER!! Receive text back: car wreck, block is out.

* Phone battery dead. Plug it in. Hmmmmm, doesn't work so well when no current is flowing, much like my thought process for the day.

* Decide to push myself out the door for a bike ride to clear my head & stimulate my body. Agony. Every. Mile.

Finally make it to the bike shop nearly 10 miles away (normally that trek would have been a breeze, Friday I felt like I was pedaling into a hurricane -- inside my head). My bike wheel shakes like the Beast at Six Flags. They don't have time, bring it back tomorrow.

* Stop at my favorite coffee shop for a smoothie & a leak. Within 15 minutes I discover my bike --- stolen. I'm not excited. At this point I'm stranded 10 miles from home but in so much misery that I don't even have the energy to be pissed. I do hope the wobbly bike wheel throws your punk rotten ass into the river.

* Fuk it. I'm gonna drag my ass the 9 blocks to Derek's new tatt shop & get some ink I've been craving. Ink makes the pain disappear. His new printer & scanner seem non-cooperative & thwart my attempts at happiness.

* Shuffle around the park with April after she rescues me, only to have my trackball jump right outta my phone into a dozen pieces, gone. No trackball. Just an empty hole where my phone's soul leaked out. I now have 8 myspace alerts, 6 facebook alerts, and 143 emails & text messages. All unread. Taunting me with the first two or three words of each, giving me a peek, yet withholding all the juicy details contained in each message.

* My head still pounding like Thomas the Train invited the entire cartoon clan to freight race through my neurons.

Only one day. ONLY ONE DAY!

Monday, September 21, 2009

l8er sk8er

New adventures!! Pay close attention to the split to the right, down under the bridge ... it became my demise.
April going Pro already. Natural skills. I'm simply a natural disaster **but a fun one at least**

April & I go for an extended walk nearly every night, almost always strolling by the Lawton Skate Park; the grace and excitement of the skaters enticing & beckoning to the both of us. Yesterday, on a whim, we bought our own boards & eagerly hit the River Greenway to give 'em a spin. I wore flip-flops, not exactly conducive to skateboarding, thus I ditched 'em on a nearby picnic table and skate barefoot. I'm cool like that. Maybe crazy like that instead?

Eventually we attempted the bigger hill as the slight incline & straight-away because progressively easier to manuever. My bum didn't like that idea ... and still doesn't. No major catastrophic events, merely bruising, stiffness, and a whole lotta fun!

We even managed to hula hoop afterward, not while on the skateboards of course. Maybe later in the week....


People rarely believe the quirky stories I have to tell.
* the punk that smooshed a fudge round on April's van window, while we sat in the vehicle
* the masses of idiots that approach me with a zillion non-sensical questions & requests
* the guy that simply wants to switch blackberry condoms (what else do you call a rubber cover?) while sitting at the bar
* the freak that said I was to weird for him to continue texting me

Every night, it's always something new; I dare not say exciting. A peek into last Wednesday ......

** this is where the scene does the blinky-fading-wavy thing and we travel back to last hump day ... me wearing gray dress capris & a sleek black v-neck blouse, complete with black strappy heels (and not so much in the red/dark hues that the camera captured that night) **

Mom's up from KY for a visit. We decided to go to the Neon Armadillo to sing. What better to sing than Rob Zombie - Dragula in a country western bar, but that didn't come to the end of the night.

My ex-punk-rocker-chicka now family-mom-friend Diane, also co-worker (for the second time), joined our jaunt. She hears my daily stories and shakes her head with disbelief every time. Tonight she has front row tickets.

Mom & I arrive earlier than Diane & picked a quiet table near a back corner. I manage to avoid all the oddeties at my hidden table with only some glances & staring in my direction. Before too long, Diane arrives & we decide to move up to the front row of tables, yet still by the wall. Ahn dehn ..... catastrophe.

The middle aged gent sitting two table over becomes one table over. *blink* He's standing at our table. Shade Jones. I know the name immediately (it's my business to know these things in the local music scene) but I don't let him know that, and he raves on.
His band blah blah blah
His Johnny Cash routine blah blah blah
So-and-So-Big-Star requested SHADE JONES blah blah blah
***** and he never shuts up, never notices that I'm staring away, never registers that my partners for the evening are giggling at my actions, never guesses that I'm not impressed *****
Until I look at him brazenly & bluntly, stating that I don't listen to his music and really don't give a shit about his ramblings.


A momentary resolution. He leaves. I breathe a sigh, but before I can recoup I'm smacked with round TWO. Tall and lanky, his opening line foolishly falls out of his lips, "I'm the only hillbilly in here." I wanted to retort, "no, but you're surely the biggest dumb-ass" but a mere glance around told me that more than a few could give him a run for his money that night. Really? THAT's your pick-up line? My mom takes that cue & poses her giggly childish act. He baits onto mom's attention {boom} conversation ensues. I steal a glance at Diane who can barely contain her astonishment & mirth that such random things DO happen in my world. Hillbilly paces away and peace restores itself.

Again, only momentarily.

Mr. Moustache stops by to bestow upon us the romantic ideas he has for his Limo service. At this point I've lost most of my patience, ok so ALL of my patience. I am not at all nice to him, but he still doesn't leave! He stares at me for moments, then declares that I'm spunky but he likes it. A-M-A-Z-ing. No thanks. He doesn't stop though, and pushes on asking how I'd like my significant other to take me on a moonlit limo ride with a personal masseuse and a bottle of my favorite wine taking me to where ever I want for the night. WHY DON'T YOU GET THE POINT THAT I'M NOT IMPRESSED BY YOUR ROMANTICISM & FURTHERMORE, WHAT BOYFRIEND WOULD THAT BE? Diane takes this as her que to finally get a good jab in, "I can see that your next boyfriend will be a limosine owner" and she doubles over with laughter - or pain - as I stomp her foot under the table. Rescued by the karaoke DJ who calls limo driver up to sing, I take the chance to breathe as Diane laughs giddily about the nights events thus far.

Yet it is not over. No. It only gets better. Buckle up. Also, now is a good time to swallow any food or drinks prior to preceeding. I'm only warning you...

Shade goes up for a song, points across the room & says he's singing this one for "the ladies over there to dance to" - pointing to our table, the only occupied table on our side of the bar. Hillbilly pops up, quickly strides across the room in a bee-line straight to stand at our table to break the night's record for unprecedented jacked up moments. Standing straight across the table, knowing that my MOTHER sits directly to my right, he stares straight at me to ask, "Do you fool around?"

I don't have words. Speechless. Jaw agape. Bewildered that he asked and surely he doesn't mean .... does he? Oh his next lines sealed the fate of that question.

"Ok, if you don't, will you just lay there so that I can?"

SERIOUSLY? I couldn't get W.T.F. out of my mouth quickly enough. Nonchalant, he turns and walks out the front door with a shrug of his shoulders. Completely aghast Diane turns to me LOUDLY, "Do you give off a damn scent or something? WHAT IS IT? I've never seen anything like it!"

Before I can completely react, my mom [ the woman who gave me life, who raised me, who has reflected her life knowledge upon me during the most tender years of my childhood ] responds only with "Ewww, what guy would only want a woman to just lay there?" Appropriate responses from a mother whose daughter just got creeped on by a sleeze at the bar ... nothing along those lines, for sure.

Anyone still wondering why I'm dysfunctional?

Monday, September 14, 2009

do I wanna go?

I'm really nervous about the appointment I have at 8:15 in the morning. Hopefully I'll be able to go back to work right after & not be ... Ugh!

In my attempt at cheering myself up, here's the funny stuff from this week:

My boss doesn't like Chamomile & Mint tea ... because she doesn't like anything that tastes like pickles. ?????? I have no idea how this relates.

The new guy at work, in a building of, oh, rough guess 200 women & 20 men, carries a transformers lunch box & has a Megatron figure on his desk. Wtf? I can't even bring myself to look him in the eye for fear of bursting out in giggles.

The "I don't like pickle-tea" supervisor called me aside the other day because one of my co-workers told her the spreadsheets the boss emailed was jacked up. Boss knows I'm computer program queen in my dept & so she comes to me asking for help & nervous that she's somehow ruined a report. I take a .0002 second look at the 'issue' and tell her to advise the other computer illiterate to print in landscape view - it will solve the jacked up spreadsheet. Is that really a difficult concept? It made me laugh though.

Time to force myself off to "sweat dreams" as my most recent text says. Gotta faced the piper in a few short hours! Bad news bears in Triana-land.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

swing life away

I managed to make oatmeal soup today. Just for the record, not something I recommend.
*shrugs shoulders*
You probably don't want to ask.

I also discovered that in the battle of ear piece headphones & bike tire as I'm riding down hill ... bike tire obliterates heaphones into at least 6 different pieces, of varying lengths. Sadness.

Another tiny little note: not everyone reacts pleasantly when I shout "Don't fall in the river; I'm not coming in after you!" as my son teeters his bike at the edge of the drop off trying to stay upright after nearly wrecking. What? Was that the wrong thing to yell? Well, there were some unhappy passer-bys.

I've stumbled across the following humble lil song, it transports me back to the simple mellow days (whenever those were):

Rise Against
Swing Life Away

Am I loud and clear,
or am I breaking up?
Am I still your charm,
or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer,
or are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine,
if you show me your's first.
Let's compare scars,
I'll tell you who's is worse.
Let's unwrite these pages
and replace them with our own words...

We live on front porches and swing life away.
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

I've been here so long,
Think that it's time to move.
The winter's so cold,
summer's over too soon.
Let's pack our bags and
settle down where palm trees grow.

I've got some friends,
some that I hardly know.
But we've had some times
I wouldn't trade for the world.
We chased these days down with talks of
the places that we will go...

We live on front porches and swing life away.
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

Swing life away...
Swing life away...
Swing life away...
Swing life away...

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

hump day in coolsville

In honor of Mr McKnob, here's my tribute to hump day - 5 things to hump this Wednesday:

1. The guy that still wears tight black jeans & a black muscle tank top at the park. Everyday. He creeps me out.

2. The head honcho of our corporate office who decided we can no longer flex our work schedules around doctor appointments, kids' activities, and life in general.

3. Utah. The whole state of Utah. Does it really have a purpose? I don't want my kids moving there!

4. The punk that slapped a Little Debbie Fudge Round on the windshield of every vehicle sitting in line at the railroad crossing at 11pm on Engle Road Monday night. Happy Labor Day to you Jack-Off. April laughed hysterically while I jumped & nearly pissed myself. (Maybe I have an issue with wetting myself...)

5. The chunky dude that pulled up next to us at the next light asking if he could have our fudge round. Does this happen to ANYone else???!!!

Monday, September 7, 2009

family specialty

Saturday the kids & I cruised down the river greenway for a 20+ mile bike ride. This picture shows the nice dirt pile my son landed in the SECOND time he went careering off his bike due an inappropriately placed sign. The city of Fort Wayne should really look into a better placement strategy for these signs, as I have also flipped off my bike after smacking straight into a sign post. I can't complain too much though, as they do place them in areas surrounded by grass or soft dirt, thus the landing is softened slightly.

In other news, my daughter slammed on her front brake so forcefully that she flipped off the front of her bike but managed to land on her feet. Her bike, however, landed on my leg. Just when my softball welts & battle wounds were fading away...

Sunday, September 6, 2009


An introduction to Moo-Shu ... Last summer my 17 year old niece brought a stray calico kitten home and named her Moo-Bear. This past spring I stopped over to my sister's house to chat, and off-handedly commented about how Moo-Bear didn't have long to go. Dumbfounded, sis hadn't realized that just under a year old & not quite full grown, Moo-Bear had heard mother nature's calling & gotten herself a piece, and now was ready to pay the piper.

The next weekend while crashing over at my sis's pad, Moo-Bear hopped into bed with me at 10am, just when I was stretching to wake up. Poor Moo-Bear didn't know what was going on as the contractions tighten her young body. I yelled for my daughter to bring me some old towels from the basement while I comforted the mama-to-be. As big around as she had grown, I had predicted her to have 2, probably 3 in her pouch; instead she had one monster yellow tabby cat that came out the size of a 6 week old.

My sister's boyfriend made his usual jokes about "garfield being in the chinese wok" - hence the name Moo-Shu sprung from Moo-Bear.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly time passes. As I blink, life progresses. From fitting into the palm of my hand, to jumping playfully at strings, he's already the size of his mama.

Each moment in life, I wait painfully for the depression to pass, never realizing all the wonderful things I'm missing mean while, until the moments pass. Are they really gone? Can I relive what I've shut my eyes to?

My new focus: keeping my eyes & ears open to life. Oh, except for the 45 minutes in my uncle's car when he's singing along to a Celine Dion cd; I'd like to forever close my ears to that.


Last Friday night April & I ventured to Columbia Street West to watch a pair of our local favorites, Teays Vein & Sirface. I made a successful fool out of myself, dancing recklessly and chatting randomly, as per my usual. April shakes her head and laughs, and says the dance floor feels naked when I take my inevitable potty breaks.

In true sportsmanship fashion, there were many other members of various local bands mingling about for support & good times. I ran into a younger gent that I knew from a particular band so I struck up a conversation. He said I looked familiar & asked my name, so I told him. Immediately he doubled over laughing; saying he remembers exactly who I am. He informed me that nearly 2 years prior I had shot him down when he tried to get my number from that same bar on the front patio. Wow. He remembered that shit? He said he tried and tried to get my digits that night but I kept laughing and walking away saying, "not tonight hon." Yep. That's exactly what I used to do. Amazing.

Do I really make such an impact on people? 2 years after a drunken night rejection? (He was drunk, I was sober and working, which makes it even more amazing that he recalled any of it.) Did I mention 2 years? Some where in the neighborhood of 24 MONTHS. I'm not talking like last weekend, or a few weeks ago. That just blows my mind.

On top of that, I recognized the guy who caught me in a open-mouth-insert-foot situation once upon a time **like that ever so rare** Let's travel back to my waitressing days, probably around the year and half ago mark...

As I passed by a table with two gents, one calls to me to ask if I had ever heard of the band V****. I stopped mid stride, turned, to the table, and asked, "Why, are you friends of theirs?" - to which both shook their head nope. My loose lips blabbered, "Worst crap I've ever heard in my LIFE, don't know how they ever got a gig anywhere, neither of the two female vocalist should ever try to utter a note again, and their "band" had no harmony and played like shit together."

One guy nearly rolls out of his chair laughing, the other tells me he's the bass player.
I'm honestly not sure whether his face or mine turned the deepest shade of crimson, but I'm sure it was a pair. Lessening my shame, I find out that Mr Bass Player had quit the week before. Still a hard pill to swallow that I had so openly & ruthlessly just bashed his playing.

Fast forward back to this past Friday night, I walked past Mr Bass Player & before I put the past together with the present, I smiled and said, "Hey, I remember you..." It was at that very moment that the words slipped through my lips that the past conversations came into clear view ... while I stood there speechless once again, making myself the fool. He chuckled, saying yep, he remembered too.

Pictured: Sirface @ Columbia Street West 9/04/09.

Friday, September 4, 2009


Tired of caring.
Why should I?
You may grasp at relationships,
But I have come to terms.

It is what it is.
Life will not change.
I will not adapt.
I am, who I now am.

You do not like it.
I do not care.
Get in line.
You will not change me
Because you did not care.
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Wednesday, September 2, 2009

words unspoken

I haven't been blogging lately, though I've had some really good conversations to blog about & have received several hints as to what would make good blog material ... *April* I'm fairly sure the comment about whose quote would be next was in reference to my lack of post on our recent conversations. The thing is, I just don't have it.
No creativity.
No drive.
No desire.
Everything I want to say, I've already said in so many ways. Redundancy irks me, so I avoid it *mostly*. The stark reality is that LIFE is redundant. Over and over. I need to come to terms with that.

I've big news that also lends itself to why my posts are lacking, I've learned to pry myself away from my crackberry for large periods of time. I used to jot everything note worthy down in the notes section of my phone as it came up in conversation, but I no longer have my phone as a 24/7 attachment to my right hand. My depressed mind just doesn't keep up with thoughts like it used to. I feel fairly independent not having to have my crackberry fix as often per day. Liberation!

I want to just say some things today. They mean nothing and will go no where, but I feel better releasing them from my head.

I could've been the woman of your dreams, but you keep dating these ugly nazi chics and ditching me. What's up with that? But most of all, why the fuck am I stuck on it!?!? Why was it so important to you to have me as a friend when you don't even talk to me when I finally gave in? I want to control this gut reaction and this emotional rush that over comes me. When I do, it will be the last of me. You ask why I'm so mean; it's not a meanness of character, it's a defense mechanism.

I just want to say, STOP FAKING IT! Stop pretending that you've found your soul-mate when you're so miserable that you call me saying you want to commit suicide. Stop using me as an emotional roller coaster. Stop whining about the tiny little things that aren't going right & make the change instead of looking for someone to band-aid it! Stop latching onto every relationship that throws itself at your feet.

You are him, that man that I hate.
What the fuck is that attraction in life?

Lonely? So am I. Better than being miserable.
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