This Circus Has Tickled My Fancy

Did you guys see the video of staunch conservative Pat Buchanan totally gushing over how good Obama's acceptance speech was?

This is the second presidential election that I will be voting in, and oh what a strange, historic, lulzy and great election it is. It's so interesting because I think for once people are actually looking at things from all sides. Or they're not, and we are just heading in circles and I am unaware of it. I guess we will have to wait for the Republican National Convention to really see.

I've been forcing myself through the videos of the speeches at the Democratic National Convention; not that I care for the democratic party much or at all, but it's like eating your vegetables. You should listen to the speeches from both sides. As I mentioned the other day, I don't subscribe to one particular party, but I tend to relate with the democratic party this year more than the republican party. You must understand that there is a difference between "I represent that" and "I resemble that," and this is the key reason why I refuse to register as anything. That's not being a punk or a rebel, that's just being responsible. I don't want someone else, or a group of people (a party) speaking for me. I speak for me, that's all there is to it.

Now, I refuse to endorse either candidate, regardless of who I am voting for. I am simply commenting on what is going on here, and if I want to comment on it I'll comment on it. Also, as a blogger I have a voice, and nobody is paying me to use my voice one way or another. Something you wont find with your news stations and morning papers.

Obama, I know little about him. He was born a poor black child, like Steve Martin, and he writes his own speeches, which by the way, you must watch it because it was an excellent speech, I don't care which party you are. Even if you don't side with him, hey, the man has skills. It will be a tough act to follow, but I eagerly await the republican rebuttal.

According to the Encyclopedia Dramatica article,

To retarded Republicans and Fox News fans, Barack "Saddam" Hussein Osama is an unpatriotic Islamic Manchurian candidate, a Muslim posing as a Christian who may even be the Antichrist. Of course, because he is black and a blood relative of George Bush on his honky side, he will probably just try to steal the election if he doesn't win.

To retarded Democrats and Daily Kos readers, Barack Jesus F. Kennedy Christ is a messianic cult leader, the reincarnation of John F. Kennedy born as a black Jesus come to save America from six years of Iraq, eight years of George W. Bush, and two centuries of white guilt.

And then there's McCain, who I have heard much more about, but totally dislike because he has no idea what an internets is. (Internets is a Bush-ism FYI.) This is relevant to my interests because of Net Neutrality becoming a big issue and as an independent author and blogger I do business on the internet. Serious business. And I can't have my internets taken from me, and you shouldn't have yours taken from you either.

McCain's best thing he's got going for him? He's not Obama. Yay! Party hard Americans! Oh, and he was a POW. Barack has never fought for our country. w00t!

And now the republican party has dropped the bomb, am I right? Some people are calling her a stupid cunt, and others are calling her a V.P.I.L.F. (Well, do you know what a MILF is? Right, so the VP which stands for vice president in front of the ILF is...yeah.) Sarah Palin, for lack of a better description, is the republican's bombshell. David says she has kind of a hot librarian look going on.

That's right, this Alaskan senator's highly protected wet lands are now open for public drilling, as it is clear to myself and just about every man in America that McCain chose a VP that he knew would easily become fap material.

Can we say obvious Hail Mary?

"Oh boy," those republicans must have thought, "if we get ourselves a woman to run as VP, we can win over all of those Hillary voters who don't like Obama." I call bullshit on that because the people who were voting for Hillary were voting for HILLARY, not just A WOMAN. Personally I didn't like her, I thought she was kind of shrill and naggy. But have you heard Palin's voice? OH MY GOD! As one Youtuber said, "It's like they gave a screechy chalkboard the ability to speak."

But he didn't only choose her to try to sway the female vote, he chose her because of her sex appeal and hot legs! This brings up an interesting point...why would he choose such a hot woman to bait women? Secret McCain lesbian pride? Or is he sort of like a Cosmo magazine, which has way more pictures of hot women than the publications that are supposed to contain pictures of hot women?

But the funny thing is that McCain's whole "Experience matters" campaign is now without a leg to stand on as this Palin gal has even less experience than Obama. She has no foreign policy experience but see, McCain does...which is helpful and all, I like the buddy system, but that only works if he's alive! If your buddy who knows the other half of the secret Coca-Cola recipe dies, see, you know what I mean, right? I mean McCain has a history of health problems AND he will be the oldest person to take office if he is elected. Furthermore, McCain's whole idea that "Obama is too young" will now be an obsolete theory considering that his VP is three years younger than Obama (Palin is 44, Obama is 47.)

What about the fact that Palin doesn't know what the vice president does? (as seen on CNBC)

McCain has only met her once or twice, nor has anyone really heard of her outside of the state of Alaska.

Not that we know very much at all about Biden, or at least I don't.

This whole thing is a huge joke! I mean yes, this is a historic election as we have women and different races all getting into the mix here, but honestly, are either of these candidates really who you, without a doubt, would like to see as president? I'm talking to YOU, not your party, not your religion, but YOU. Do YOU like your candidate, or are you voting for one because you simply dislike the other?

I am really looking forward to the Republican National Convention. This is fascinating, fascinating stuff, this election is.

Comment questions (answer one some or all):

Who are you voting for and why? Is it because of your party, family, employer, church? Or do you think for yourself?

Will you be voting opposite of your traditional party this year?

What if your candidate was atheist? Would that be enough to get you to switch parties, or are you true blue or red headed all the way?

Which will piss ignorant fucks off more, a woman VP or a black president?

Do you even care what the opposing candidate and their party has to say at these conventions or is your mind made up before you even know what the other side has to say?

Nominated! And Kindergarten Cannibalism! And Butterflies!

You simply must vote for my blog in the Blogger's Choice Awards. I have been nominated for Best Blog of All Time AND Best Photography Blog. I might not be the best blog ever, but I know you love my pictures, I have proof, so you should at least afford me that vote. The thingies to click are on the right at the top of the sidebar, so go do it! And to make my point about the photo blog nomination, let's talk about this week's photo challenge: symmetry. And let's not just talk about it, let's see some symmetry.

Now I cant think of anything that is more symmetrical than a butterfly. Except for when they have chunks missing from their wings because a bird tried to eat it. See, butterflies are not unlike little flying potato chips for birds. But this one here, this male white checkered skipper that David took a picture of, is bite mark free and stunning with its russet brown wings and striped antenna.

Remember when you were in school, and the teacher had you paint on one side of the paper, then fold it in half so that everything you put on that one side was stamped onto the other? Symmetry in motion. Ty did one of those pictures in preschool. He just finished up his first week of kindergarten.

Ty tells me Friday when I picked him up, "I saw the ginger bread man today."

"Oh yeah?" I remember the gingerbread man. He was hiding back at the classroom the whole time. We didn't even need to go to the library or the nurses office! Mrs. Goodrich should have just looked in our classroom first! Saved all that walking.

"He was running really fast outside, I saw him! He was fast like how a race car drives fast, but I was faster. So I killed him and ate the body."

"You..." I utter, a little surprised to hear him use such a colorful way to describe how he ate the cookie considering he doesn't watch television or play video games.

"But you know what Mama? There wasn't any bones or blood in him. I think maybe the blood squirted out when they cooked him. I tried to find him at the library but he wasn't there! You know where he was?"

"Where?"

"The princibowl's office. He was so cute! That's where I catched him, killed him, then ate him. He tasted good."

"Well I'm glad you uh...got to see the school and everything," because everyone knows that the gingerbread man story is really just a ploy to take the kindergartners on a tour of the school, not just bludgeoning a cookie to death and then eating the soft-baked corpse.

Look, boys are just violent by nature. We have the most non violent home, we don't do the TV or the video games or violent music, and he's still talking about killing things. Wade makes banana guns! He's three!

"Ty you do understand that the gingerbread man was just a cookie, don't you?"

"Yeah he was just made for eating, I know." He gasps in shock, "does that mean his blood was made of chocolate?"

FINALLY Finally We Have Some Good Fortune Come Our Way

After last month with the car breaking down twice, gas prices soaring close to $5 a gallon, we were pissed and screwed for the most part.

Then all of the sudden this month it seems like we're ahead for the first time in MONTHS, in fact ALL YEAR, because as you recall our $5,000 tax return bought our Katrina car after the Civic was stolen, and that stupid stimulus check was spent to pay for a new engine for the Katrina car. 2008 has sucked for us and now I feel like maybe it might finish out okay. Maybe not dazzling, but okay, and that's fine.

The first good thing was that David got a really big check from the pizza place, the biggest he's ever gotten, because he's working all kinds of hours while they train him for manager work. He hasn't even gotten his manager raise yet, so if this is what we have to look forward to, I'm stoked.

Then, he got his bonus from The Cans this morning, and it is double the amount that he usually gets on it. Score!

Another good thing I've noticed over the weeks is that Staters is having really good sales, like really good sales. Prices on meat are insanely low, and it's because it is one of those really great small chain stores that understands that EVERYONE is broke because of gas prices so they like to give us shopper peeps a break on our steak.

And you can actually buy steak because it's cheap.

So besides having a shit load of good cheap food on hand, having more than enough for rent so we aren't broke after we pay it like normal, David got a letter yesterday from CHP.

It says that he's been cockblocked. Cockblocked from having to work at these shitty places for much longer because he PASSED! That really tough interview panel thing? He passed it with a score of 75!

To give you an idea, last time when he failed it he had a 65. That's 10 points higher and I don't know what that actually means because I don't know how high the numbers go but yay David! And now we begin the background investigation, followed by the psychological screening, and the medical evaluation.

Please please please let this work out.

I Learned A New Skill

If you want the answers to the questions from yesterday's post they are in video form on the end of yesterday's post. I wont subject every visitor to having to watch all 15 minutes of a video that you might not have asked a question for, so if you want to see it, go there. It is long but good, like a banana.

But for everyone else, and for YOU once you've finished watching the video, I want to share with you what I learned yesterday. Hair extensions. Yeah, I can put them in. This is special because to go get hair extensions done will run you about $900. For me to just do it on my neighbor, it cost less than $100 with the hair and the tool, and it looks fabulous.

In case you're still kind of confused, you can buy hair (real human hair, not synthetic) and bond it to your own hair using a small heating tool, and it will stay for months. This is because the part of the hair that you bond to your natural hair has a little waxy piece of carotene on it which melts to create the bond.

And it costs like $900 to go get this done, so to know how to do it at home, yeah, it's awesome.

To further explain, Mustang Sally's real hair is just past her shoulders. As you can see after adding the lovely blonde and light brown locks, her hair is now about half way down her back.

You can wash it, curl it, dye it, everything because it is real hair. They'll stay for a few months, until your hair grows out and you can start to see the bonds, but then you just use a special removal solution to take them out. She says I'm next. I'm scared to do it. I kind of want to, just because her hair looks so full and kind of like a porn star's hair is, but I'm still scared. It takes me months to decide to switch shampoos so I don't know if I'll go through with it, but she said she'd pay for it and who am I to turn down something that is free?

I'm just excited that I got to learn how to do something this cool, I love learning new things. And hey, if you're ever in Beaumont and you want hair extensions done, I will do it, and I will only burn your head by accident once. She says it doesn't hurt now. But I still have a blister on my finger from touching the hot melted carotene.

I don't know internet, is it a good idea? Should I get hair extensions? I'm trying to grow my hair out right now after I lopped it all off last summer like an idiot, and it's already to my arm pits. Keep in mind that when I first started dating David it was past my butt. I only cut it then because I was going through like a big bottle of shampoo a week and I was just getting irritated with the upkeep.

Should I get the 26 inch strands and wear my hair longer than the bumble slut and slutty grape dresses? For the win?

Ask Me Anything *updated with answers*

It's that time again. You ask me any question, and I will answer it it in tomorrow's post. Ask as many as you want on any subject. Political, personal, stupid, random, opinion, everything. Don't be shy, ask away. I will deliver.

And I had better get some participation here, because without you I am no better than the guy who stands in front of the liquor store yelling at himself.

And for Liz, I present The Best Bread Machine Bread

And for latecomer Leann I Am who asked after I posted the video whether I stand up or sit down while wiping my ass, I remain seated because you know, my thighs aren't like big or anything so I can fit my hand between my legs with little effort. And I lean forward a bit as well, possibly to create more wiping surface area.

The Swingingest Place I Know

The theme for the Photo Challenge this week was "the beauty of decay," and I have something here to show you that is sadly decaying.

Now for those of you who don't know the area, which is most of you, Cherry Valley is just upper Beaumont. There are cherry farms and fields and no businesses, because all of the businesses pretty much look like this one here. Before picking up Ty from school today I drove to this fine ex-establishment to take some pictures, as I had noticed it the other day (among several other times) and took note of the rusted sign that sits out in front of the gray asphalt parking lot and sagging wood and stucco building. I thought "hey, now there's something I can use for this challenge."

So just look at this sign, first of all, before I show you the building. I mean it seems like THE place to be, right? You've got sea food, Italian food, banquet rooms, a cocktail lounge, PLUS the mystery that was in box number one. What could it have been?

Dancing? Strippers? Gambling? Cock fights? Strawberry pie?

See! We don't know! And it will forever be a mystery!

The building its self is pretty big. Two story, with what looks like rooms up top which might explain the "Inn" part of the Inn. The wood looks all rotted, and I'm not entirely sure how safe it would be to walk around up there, but at any rate could you just imagine a bunch of people up there just socializing with their glasses of whatever and schmoozing and laughing at all of my someone's jokes?

Okay, so yeah, I'm sad that the place is closed because I kind of want to hang out there. Actually, if there wasn't a school down the street and a church next door I would buy it and make it a strip club...or maybe just my house. I could live in something like this. But then I also want to think that maybe it is haunted or cursed or something, and I cant think that if I live there. Or I don't want to think that, as it were, because I scare pretty easily.

There are all of these stained glass lanterns along the front porch, and the windows are all that weird amber color with the circle shaped bumps in it. It looks like its textured but it isn't when you touch it. Not that I touched this particular glass, because frankly I was scared that it would...well I don't know what I was scared of. Probably not of it breaking or something creepy reaching through and grabbing me, more of someone pulling up and asking me what I'm doing on their property. For the record there aren't any trespassing signs posted, but you never know when someone will be put out by you having a camera. If it ever happens I plan to either say I'm a real estate agent or just kindly tell them that I'm not a punk. Or better yet, "I'm a local author and I was thinking about using this building as a setting in one of my stories, and I need the pictures so I remember all the details."

Actually, I do intend to use it as the setting for an old worn down and creepy strip club, now that I've thought of it. Hmm.

Anyway, though this was probably a really cool place at one point with really good food, cocktails and (lodging? all you can eat crab legs? a chocolate factory?) Mimi's is locked up tight and closed forever. That is unless I can get my hands on it someday when I am rich and/or famous and turn it into something. I just hate to see buildings rot away like this when you know they could be used for something snazzy. Like I said there is a church next door so I doubt it will become a church...or anything for that matter. There are a lot of buildings in Cherry Valley that are rotting (or "decaying") that probably nobody owns or that the city just doesn't care enough to auction off.

But Beaumont is becoming a boom town, a real "desired area" right now so if this place does get bought up in 5-10 years it wouldn't surprise me either.

They call Cherry Valley the "best kept secret." But does that mean that the place is well hidden and therefore good because of this fact, or is it best to keep it secret so that all the buildings can rot and fall apart like so many teeth in a sugar fed toddler's mouth?

First Day Of Kindergarten

Here is Ty, five years old as of three days ago in his snazzy new school clothes (and $8 Nikes)



Wade also has a backpack. Why? Um...not sure. He wears it while eating cereal and everywhere he goes.



The school is all about natural lighting



He didn't want to eat the school's lunch, so he ate what I packed instead, which was a peach from my sister's tree, broccoli and carrots, and a peanut butter and jelly mini bagel.



And this is Ty's playground (and in the background you can see why I call it McMansion Elementary)



Getting him there wasn't a problem since he's PM kinder. But pickup was nuts, not only because everyone in the parking lot was batshit insane but it rained for all of five minutes even though it was like 102 out.

Oh, and guess who was there...



Yeah totally. Exceeding expectations and everything.

But we found Ty, and instead of crying like he did when we picked him up from preschool he ran to us...



And what did Ty think about his first day of kindergarten?



"Well, it was fun but not really. We didn't get to really play a lot, it was disappointing."

What kind of five year old calls his first day of kindergarten disappointing?

Random Shit To Share...

• I ate an entire loaf of bread yesterday. Not all in one sitting, but I ate it. That's because the neighbor woman brought over this Romanian food, she says it's called conopidă. It's basically just boiled and mashed/finely chopped cauliflower, in fact the word conopidă actually means cauliflower in Romanian, and she mixes it with mayo and garlic. You put it on bread. I cant stop fucking eating it. She also makes salată de vinete (eggplant salad) and David eats it by the gallon. He also moans while he eats it, which makes me wonder, because he doesn't moan while he eats my food. When asked, he replied "I already done ate your spaghetti twice this week, nothing to moan about now. It aint new no more."
• Funny story, someone at the pizza place is Romanian. Funnier is that he's also from Transylvania like Mustang Sally, and knew about the conopidă. Still funnier, he lives here where we live. Still funnier yet, when the guy asked where we live, David told him which building it was and which apartment it was, and the guy said "Oh, you mean the girl with the camera on her porch!" I lol'd. The guy claims that I took a picture of him when he was in the pool one night. The only time I take pictures of people in the pool is when they are adding soap to the spa, so this alone may be an admission of guilt.
• David is now the manager at the pizza place. Yes, he was trying to get rid of that job, but now they're giving him a dollar more and he wont have to do deliveries so the car wont be getting, you know, driven into trucks or losing its alternator twice in one week. He's going to stay because for one, this is his second job which is sort of an income supplement and where else will he be able to get $9 an hour for easy part time work? Nowhere, because nobody is fucking hiring. Also, management looks good no matter what, so he might as well ride it out.
• In case you're wondering, CHP has not sent a letter back yet so nothing has changed. If for some reason he doesn't get in this time, he's going to try again and again until they hire him. CHP CHP let me in! So David's going to have to huff and puff till they open the damn door (or blow their house down.)
• Ty's birthday cake was made up of cupcakes, because this seemed like the right thing to do. Only they put three and a half inches of frosting on them AND squirted little ploofs of frosting down between the cupcakes. I think we almost died from all the licking. Furthermore, the cake has Hanukkah candles on it because I forgot to buy birthday candles at the store. The Hanukkah candles have been in my sister's fridge since I was in 5th grade, because Stater's was giving them away free with the purchase of something else at the store, and the candles have been in the fridge ever since. They are often randomly plunked into cakes when we forget to buy real candles, or on special occasions like when my brother in law makes a cake that says something like "I did the dishes yesterday it is your turn." This happens a lot. Some of the candles have chocolate and frosting on them in the box, so apparently we recycle them.
• David says I should wear the "slutty grape" dress with jeans, and I think I agree.
• I love finding new weird music to listen to. Please to enjoy this latest weird song I found, called "Scenic World" by Beirut.
  

More Fashion Advice

As much fun as it is to troll David by asking him "Daaaaaavid do you think this dress is too short?" or "Daaaaaaaavid does this bra make my boobs too round, high, and luscious? Tell me for true," I still want to know what YOU think about these dresses that I bought. Now these aren't for business, they're mostly just to...I don't know, troll David...but see, I like them but I wonder how weird they are...because they're weird and short.

They were on sale at Target, and I loved the way they looked in the ad on the models. I'm far from looking like a model, but I enjoy the look anyway. I'm not sure if it's me, but what the hell.

This first one I call "bumble slut" and I swear to god it's a dress and not a shirt. It has a weird elastic bottom to it and yeah, it's short. But as you can see, bumble slut can be worn with leggings. Leggings? Yeah, I said it. They're back, and they're like $6. I haven't worn leggings since I was about 10, and I wore big sweaters with Santa Clause on them. But now apparently I can wear this dress thing with them and look just like the girls in the ad...'sept with boobs.

So do you think I should wear bumble slut in public without the leggings? Hold your comments till the end. (Remember that I do a lot of things for the lulz so if you told me to do it just to see me do it I probably would.)

The second dress is what I call "slutty grape." It's purple. It's shiny. It's short. I do not have matching leggings for this particular dress, and I if I do end up wearing it somewhere, though I cant imagine where, I'd probably just be brave and step out with bare powdered knees as they say.

Slutty grape is probably not a grocery store dress, even if I found leggings for it. I think if I honestly wore that to anywhere other than some kind of swanky club I'd be asking for it.

What do I do? I like them but seriously, what in the hell am I going to do with the purple one? We've already solved the potential sluttiness of the bumble slut by adding pants, but the grape one...that might just be one of those...like if I ever go anywhere...things...

Every girl needs a slutty dress, I suppose.

I'll probably just use it to troll David.

So comment questions: Should I wear the bumble slut without pants to the store tomorrow? Where in the hell can I/should I wear slutty grape?

No Pop And No Candy

We went to McMansion Elementary today to meet Mrs. McBeaver. Principal McCuddleson told us that come Monday, we need to drop the kids off at the curb and LEAVE. Lots of parents were shocked to hear this.

Actually I was a little more surprised, in a good way, that the teacher said we could pack snacks for recess time but they could only be fruits and vegetables. "No pop, and no candy."

Also I was surprised to hear a Californian call it pop.

My sister works at a so called "sugar free school," which means that you cannot pack anything sugary at all with their lunch, and the teachers cant give out any candy or cookies or anything. McMansion Elementary might be the same, though I don't know for sure.

Mrs. McBeaver used to work with my sister, and when I mentioned my sister's name the woman lit up and gushed about how wonderful she is. I like Mrs. McBeaver, she's like my sister and Ty's old preschool teacher Miss Penny rolled into one.

And the school? My god. The playgrounds are HUGE! And there is no way that anyone can just steal a kid from there because there are 12 foot high metal gates all around the place. The classroom has some new computers, a big overhead projector that is mounted to the ceiling, and Mrs. McBeaver said something about a computer that she can walk around with that shows up on the board that does all kinds of things, I don't know what she means but it sounds cool. The classroom is bigger than my apartment and the whole middle of the ceiling is a giant skylight. Isn't that cool beans?

As far as meeting the other kids, Ty was pretty uninterested, which is very much like Ty. He got really excited when he saw a black boy because his best friend was a black boy last year. He was too scared to go say hi though. His other best friend was a Chinese boy, and when he saw an Asian boy today he was excited enough to say hi, and the kid just looked at him like he was nuts. I kept encouraging him to go talk to kids, but he just wouldn't do it. He did, however, tell the teacher that the bathrooms were scary because they are dark, and she was really good with him. She said "Let's go find the light switch, can you find it?" Eventually he found it and exclaimed "Oh that's clever! That light switch is so clever!"

He also told me last night that he heard a "terrible noise." Oh it was such a terrible, terrible noise.

At one point the cutest little boy came up to him all shy like and quietly says "my name's Toby." Ty ignored him, so I told him to tell the boy hi. He said hi, then went back to reading a book, leaving Toby rejected. Only momentarily though, because a sweet faced little girl went up to Toby and introduced herself. After that, Toby was hugging her around the waist as they walked around together.

As far as telling the teacher about Ty's smarts goes, my sister advised me against it, because it's better to let the teacher discover it on her own. You have to realize, everyone's kid is a genius. How many people have told you all about their potty trained six month old? Or how their 15 month old knows all the letters? Nobody wants to tell the teacher that Benny is a little slow. And parents say "He's so smart, he knows ALL his letters," and they don't realize that singing the ABC song doesn't count as knowing the letters. Every parent says how smart their kid is to the teacher, and the teacher just says "Yeah we'll see." Essentially, the teacher will discover how smart Ty is on her own and say, "I've noticed Ty's impressive vocabulary" or "Ty seems to like to build a lot of machines." That's when I say, "Yeah, they tested him in preschool and said he has an IQ of 132."

Well this McBeaver lady is a true kindergarten teacher according to what my sister remembers of her, and I liked her upon meeting her, so I think she's going to be a good teacher for Ty to have. I met the male teacher, Mr. McCreepy. Yeah, he seems...more like he should be my tech support guy than my kid's teacher. Or maybe I'm just creeped out by all male teachers automatically.

My Very Inquisitive Five Year Old

Ty...Ty Ty Ty. Ty is five on Friday the 22nd. Ty tells me, "I built an observatory in my room. It has two support beams."

I don't think I could have ended up with a more inquisitive and bright kid.

Yesterday he was licking a pile of ranch dressing so that he could study the size of the mark that his tongue made because he wanted to see how small his tongue was. His favorite song is still "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" by the Beatles, but he also likes "Baby You're a Race Track" or Baby You're a Rich Man if you want to say it correctly.

What are tips? How do they make hangers? How does it rain? How do we get into a blimp? Can I just touch a cloud? Can we go in a blimp on Saturday? Am I a robot under my skin? How does a rocket go? Why does the bakery need so many ovens? Where are boobs? Can I marry the neighbor?

Or as evidenced in this video, "Daddy, if it's called pickle juice, then can we drink it?"

"Excuse me, I just got done farting a few seconds ago." -Ty

Belly Dancing Video Delivered

I told you a few days ago that the neighbor woman is teaching me the belly dance, and that I am not very good at it at all. I also promised a video of the horror, and my friends, today JT delivers. You got video.

I was over helping her do a puzzle and she was cross stitching a picture of Jesus, and I suggested how pathetic and lame we were and asked if she would give me more dance lessons. Mustang Sally delivered.

Now the funny part is that Mustang Sally is also in the video doing it "right." But I will have you know that the instructor on the DVD says that "choreography is not important so long as you are moving." You can clearly see in this video that as I may not be able to seduce a man from across the room in a crowded smoky bar, I am trying my damnedest.

Watch this video, and to make it fun lets make it a game. You laugh, you lose.

Nightmare mode: Your face even twitches in the direction of a smile you lose.

Enjoy (at my expense)

Music is "Loose Lips" by Kimya Dawson

No More Mr. Nice Girl

Mustang Sally was nice enough to watch the kids this morning so that I could go to the parent orientation for McMansion Elementary School. I call it that because it's buried in a sea of McMansions, and for safety reasons I'm not posting the real name of the school. We meet his teacher, Mrs. McBeaver, on Friday which also happens to be his birthday.

McBeaver is also a fake name, obviously.

I was the first one there because I was early due to dropping off David at work. I felt stupid sitting in the chairs, so I sat on the steps of the library looking at a Target ad instead until someone else showed up. And when people did start filling in, nobody sat in the front row. This isn't like a Gallagher show where the first six rows are guaranteed to get covered in crap (and I saw Gallagher live once, and I was covered in watermelon, baked beans, and peanut butter.) Sucks to these back row soccer moms, I'm sitting up front.

So McMansion Elementary is brand new. Nobody knows what they're doing, so we had to go to this orientation to learn about pick up and drop off procedures and what not. See, they closed the school that Ty would have gone to, let's call it Portable Elementary, because it was supposed to be temporary and it ended up being temporarily there for a few decades. So we got this state-of-the-art school instead a few more blocks away. One of the problems at Portable Elementary was parking. It was on a narrow road and it had like 20 parking spots. Principal McCuddleson (what, he's kinda cute!) said that there was double, even triple parking going on at Portable. "We broke the record!" he said. I laughed.

What important information did we learn today?

• Do not park in the red zone. Drop off area is on the yellow curb only. This school has at least 100 parking spaces and there are spots on the street, so don't be an asshole and block the busses.
• Don't send your kid to school wearing those shirts that say "I didn't do my homework because I was playing video games" or "Down with homework, play XBOX instead," or any of those other shirts that piss me off. Can I just say thank you? And I don't know what the hell people are buying those shirts for to begin with. Why do you want to label your kid as an underachiever anyway? Even if he is one, he doesn't need a t-shirt to go with it.
• You can pay for the lunches online. SCORE! Though I think we signed up for free lunch so it doesn't affect me this year but next year when we're rolling in it SCORE!

I also saw Ty's playground and peeked into the classroom, which was mostly filled with boxes. So cool, I did the whole mom thing and went to the parent meeting, and I was a good girl and didn't have the cookies or the punch. Must watch thine goilish figya. Or what's left of it, anyhow.

So I left, and I had one stop to make before going home to relieve my neighbor of the kids. Steppy's house.

I've never been there, but David has delivered his pizza and he showed me where it was the other day when we went to cruise by the school to show Ty. Why was I going to his house? Because bitch had some 'splainin' to do.

It's like 10:00 and I pound on the door. The cop knock. I'm hoping to catch his wife, see what kind of character she is. Maybe invite myself in for tea and a chat. Anyway, just as I think nobody is home, Steppy unlocks the door and peers at me. He's got bed head and he doesn't look fully awake.

He's like "What the hell?"

I said "Hi," but not in a nice way, more like a commanding IM IN UR DOORWAY kind of way. He asked me how I knew where he lived, and I said "My husband is your damned pizza boy, but that is neither here nor there. What you did yesterday was wrong. You are not permitted to touch me or kiss me or anything like that." He's still kind of dazed. "It's like 10:00 in the morning, why are you sleeping?"

"I work tonight," he tells me. But I didn't let that make me feel guilty for waking him.

"Where is your wife?" I asked.

"At her mom's with the kids."

Ah fuck. "Well anyway, that is sexual harassment and I don't have to take it," I say, quoting those commercials from the mid 1990's. "And I'm sorry but I'm going to have to request an additional $500 on your initial investment as a handling fee, for having to put up with your douchebaggery."

He mouths the word douchebaggery in confusion.

"Furthermore," I say, "you are lucky that I'm even letting you help me, so you should actually be a lot more respectful toward my weird no-touchy thing."

He says he's sorry, again, and that he has sisters so...

"I don't care. I have sisters too but I don't go around smooching on people when they don't want it. K?"

He rubs his eyes and laughs. "Nobody has ever talked to me that way."

"Yeah, well I do," I say.

"Do you talk to David like that?"

I say, "Of course not. I only order YOU around like a bitch because it's what you need."

At this point his jaw is like on the ground. "Are you saying that you're-"

"Ordering my bitch around. Yes. And I'd love to meet your lovely family some time."

"Wait wait, did you just call me a bitch?"

"I called you MY bitch and as such you will do as I say as far as the investment goes, as well as how you conduct yourself with me, and we are NOT partners."

He's standing there staring at me like he's trying to figure me out, but of course he cant because I'm so damned amazing and such a bright ass ball of sunshine. He says, "Okay, if I give you some candy will you go away?"

I'm like, wull...yeah.

He goes to the kitchen and brings back a handful of mini Reeces cups. "More," I tell him. He got all frustrated and went back and grabbed the whole bag and gave it to me.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah. Kthxbai," and I skipped back to my car.

I ordered my bitch around and I scored a bag of candy. I should open a business or something.

Not Partners

The photo challenge this week was pretty abstract. Simply put, "lines." This is a birds nest made of sticks that was built in one of those...electrical thingies. Those things that the powerlines are connected to that aren't telephone poles. A tower of power I guess.

I spent the better part of the day at my office...or Starbucks, as it were. Officer Steppy called me and asked what my thoughts were on the signing at the book store in San Diego, and I'm still so nervous that I just told him that I don't want to make any plans until David gets the thumbs up or down from CHP.

I want his contribution. I want his help. But I still want to be careful.

He told me that he found "the perfect song" to use for the book trailer for Bombshell, since I had briefly told him last week that the trailer would be my next project. Steppy was all gung ho about meeting today to work on it together, saying that he wanted to help me because he understands the feel of the book and therefore how the trailer should feel as well. So, I suggested Starbucks. Nice, public, Starbucks, since the gypsy neighbor woman told me to never be alone with him for some ominous reason.

And working with Steppy today was...good. He didn't make any awkward sexual advances or pass me wads of cash or anything like that. In fact we sat at a little table and worked on my lap top for a few hours without him freaking me out in any way. Frankly, I had no idea that he would have been able to give as much input as he did into the arrangement of the pictures and video clips as he did. He actually designed almost the entire trailer himself, and I like how it turned out. We used a lot of Creative Commons licensed pictures that I previously found on Flickr, as well as some stuff of my own, including a video that I shot a very long time ago of the girl who is the inspiration for this book doing her routine on the pole at the club after closing time. We had to distort the video quite a bit so you couldn't see her face, but I think we came up with a decent solution.

I did explain to him that I didn't plan to release a trailer until later, but he said just to make it now so it will be ready for release later. And to tell you the truth, as much as he still sort of freaks me out, it does feel good to have someone willing to back me up. Like he said, I have a great story and everything that I really need except for the money, and that's where he comes in. If he really is just trying to help, then this is just the push that I need.

So this is the trailer, the unofficial release of the trailer for Bombshell that Steppy helped me make.

I like it. It might need work before I put it on Jessie-Terwilliger.com but it's a great video.

I was thinking that the day went well with Steppy. But then as we were leaving, he walked me out to my car and stood there, sort of like how the cocktail waitress stands there waiting for a tip.

He goes, "We're partners, right?"

I'm like, "Partners? No, I work alone, sorry."

"Stop being anti-social. Partners," he said and held out his hand. I told him I wouldn't shake his hand unless there wasn't a wad of cash in it. And also I wouldn't shake it because we are not partners.

I said, "I will pay you back whatever you decide to invest someday, it may not be for years but one day I will pay you back so we are NOT partners."

"Okay," he tells me, "you can pay me back like a dollar a month."

I said, "And what's the interest on that?"

"I don't know. A kiss," and the guy, swear to god, kisses me on the cheek. I'd of punched him but he backed away all quick saying bye and went to his car, knowing that I wouldn't chase him (though I probably should have but that would have been like so third grade.) Come to think of it, that was pretty childish on his part.

At least he didn't honk my boob. But still, I don't like spit on my face. I just stood outside of my car with my arms crossed glaring at him, and he eventually turned off his engine and came back. He said he was sorry, he forgets how I don't like "that stuff." He said he'd see me around.

And now I am going back into my shell to hide from him. I fucking hate human beings.

Half Baked Camo

I cant tell you how many times this particular night stand has been painted. When I got it it was pink and I was not in love with the pink at 14 so I painted it white with black music notes all over it. Then there were rainbow letters on it for some reason. There is a matching dresser to it that is now in my niece Nina's room that I did up with Sharpie ink. When David dragged it out of the closet of my old bedroom at my sister's house, it was lavender and sea foam.

Unfortunately, because it was going to be put in my boy's room, lavender and sea foam would not be appropriate colors.

So I broke out my acrylic paints and found an array of half filled bottles. The most amount I had was of the dark green, so I painted it that. Then Mustang Sally chastised me from her porch about how "oogly" it was, so I got a sock and some brown and made hideous splotches all over it. Then I got some black and a brush that has a funky split in the bristles because it didn't dry properly from last time and made crazy spots all over it. Viola. Half baked camo.

Then I busted out the trusty hot glue gun and dug through my old scrapbooking stuff. Yeah, I used to scrapbook a long time ago, before I discovered knitting. Anyway, little Scrabble letters spell out their names along the top edge, and some silk tags that say things like "Built Tough," "Boys will be boys," "Ultimate adventure," and "Dirty stinky boys" were added to the drawers.

Not bad for doing it under an hour, right?

I should go on one of those shows where they pay me $1,000 to wreck your shit.

Now, we needed the night stand because guess who got a TV and DVD player for his birthday? Right. Early birthday present, because it wasn't bought, just pulled out of a closet and dusted off, but yeah, after giving up our television in November, one has made its way back in. But wait, there's a thing here.

We will not hook up cable to it, so there wont be any "television" watching per say. I don't know if you've watched any Nickelodeon lately but it's mostly just boy bands, girl sluts, and Spongebob's adult themes. Advertisements up the yin-yang, which is bad because my boys don't have yin-yangs. So the whole purpose is for educational DVD's, like that of Bob the Builder, Sesame Street and this set of "read with me" books on DVD that use a special remote and everything. There may be an addition of the V-Smile system later, but no XBOX or any crap like that.

Ty's earning it though, it's not been given. Room must be cleaned, he must put his and his brother's clothes away in the drawers, he must do his homework first and all those other rules that I will make up as I go along.

The point is that the TV isn't out here, because frankly David and I don't need that kind of shit as we have learned to entertain ourselves otherwise, like by knitting or watching YouTube or fucking. I wont be getting another TV, nor will I be subscribing to any TV services in the foreseeable future.

So what do you think of my half baked camo job?

Fisherman's Retreat And Linky Love

For Ty's birthday (which is next Friday) David took him fishing. And for extra fun, David invited his dad. His dad doesn't fish, he mostly just sits there and tries to avoid skin cancer, but it was the kind of outing that every little boy needs.

Except for Wade, because Wade is batshit insane and will just end up jumping into the lake and devouring pond scum. Maybe in another six years.

The bait was pizza and hot dogs and ranch dressing, as recommended to David by a man who has lived at Fisherman's Retreat for 30 years. The fish? Catfish. Now catfish from the store is pretty rank, but if you pull one up out of the lake and make it fresh that day, it's scrumptious. I was looking forward to a delicious meal since the place stocks the lakes on Friday. Unfortunately, the lake didn't get stocked yesterday, so the fishing trip was not going to go well. Nobody was catching fish at the whole lake from what I hear. And using hot dogs and pizza for bait is about as effective as you'd think it would be. But somehow, by chance, David caught the only damn catfish there.

Not quite the plentiful dinner that I was thinking we'd have, but with some garlic biscuits and big waffle fries, it made for a good lunch. His dad took this picture with my Lumix. Good times were had.

So I also want to pass on some linkage today, because I haven't shared my intarweb finds in a while, and also I cant stretch a fishing trip that I wasn't on into a full length blog. These are mostly YouTube channels and some big mainstream blogs, but I'm drawing your attention to them in case you haven't seen them pop up in my sidebar.

Interestingly enough, I'm subscribed to twice as many channels as I have blogs in my live bookmarks. The good blogs are a dying breed. But not the blog of my half step sister in law's husband's sister, Debi's Journal. My half step sister in law's husband's sister (really!) is quiet and quaint and cultural. The posts are not frequent, but they're interesting.

My Life My Photos is one of my favorite Photo Challenge Blog participating...blogs. Besides Connie, who I've been linking to for like three years now (go say happy birthday to her as well.) But Helen at My Life My Photos is in Australia and rather ambitious about figuring out how to use her camera, which is just a model above mine. Have a look at her photos, and sign up for the Photo Challenge as well. It will give you something to do with your life. And you should also check out Leah because she's Canadian Eh? She also participates in the photo challenges and comes from the country that is America's hat. Leah also recently won a copy of my book on Goodreads by signing up and adding me as a friend. I'll be giving away another copy on the 31st so sign up and add my book to your "to be read" list for your chance to win it.

And on the big time blogs front before we move to the lulzy videos I've been cackling at, check out the Fail Blog (full of epic fails) and Totally Looks Like! I enjoy the hell out of Totally Looks Like. Did you know that the Michelin Man totally looks like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man? That George W. Bush totally looks like a chimpanzee? Or that Yassar Arafat totally looks like Ringo Starr? Now you know!

And on to the videos that lulz up my life or otherwise entertain me in some way, check out Ed Bassmaster, who does pranks done in very good disguises (Sesame Street character voices that he uses to prank call stores, a guy called "Mumbles" for reasons you will soon understand, and his signature Marlin Woods.) Funny funny stuff. And these guys have been around for a while but you should also check out Improv Everywhere. They organize huge public stunts like 50+ people just randomly freezing in place at Home Depot or dancing in the windows of high rise buildings. It's art, it's cool, it's something you have to see to appreciate.

David and I are LOVING Is It A Good Idea To Microwave This. It delivers exactly what you think it will, as they microwave such things as batteries, fireworks, portable DVD players, lit candles, mirrors, snow globes, and so much more, and stuff almost always explodes or catches fire. If you're not watching this series...well...I guess maybe you should be watching Mediocre Films presents the Retarded Policeman series. Now I was at first quite bothered by the Retarded Policeman, as the individual is in fact disabled. Looking into it further, his brother helps him make the videos, and he is fully comfortable with making fun of his own Down Syndrome. If a person can laugh at their own disability while delighting an audience, why not? And, not only is he fully aware of what he is doing (and doing a lot of acting for the sake of lulzing it up) he also enjoys making the videos, so yes it is okay to laugh. I just got into this series but I love it.

But if you're not into new stuff, how about the old stuff? The Minisode Network has shortened versions of your favorite shows such as The Facts Of Life, Diff'rent Strokes (FYI David used to fap to Dana Plato,) He Man, The Three Stooges, and a lot more. They also have Rescue Me, which I had never seen before, but I am laughing my ass off at. If you've never seen Rescue Me, go start watching the minisodes, you will not regret it. I will prove it to you by leaving you with a minisode of Rescue Me entitled "Sandwich." Watch it.

The Shopping Wins Were Epic Today

Ty scored a pair of Nikes for kindergarten. I myself have never actually owned a pair of name brand shoes, and David only wears Etnies because they're the only brand that fits his wide and long feet. I usually spend about $2 a toe on a pair of shoes for me, and growing up it was $1 a toe. My sister claims she spent $.50 a toe as a kid.

And people, I bought my shoes at Stater's. FYI, Stater's used to sell shoes.

Was anyone else buying shoes from the grocery store or was that just my fucked up childhood?

Anyway, so Ty got these Nikes at Kohl's. Like I said before, I only went there because they sent me a $10 gift card in the mail, and also they advertised a big shoe sale. Let me tell you, Beaumont is full of crazy crack-headed soccer moms who loves to buy them up some shoes, because NONE of the sale shoes were in stock. There were some Sketchers that were on sale for like $19 or $25, which would be fine with my $10 discount, but they were wiped fucking clean.

Just as David was trying to convince me to just go to Payless, I found the clearance rack. Okay, so are you ready for the epic win here?

$45 Nikes at 60% off, making them $18. And then with the $10 gift card, our total for Ty's name brand cool kid shoes was $8.62. What a bargain, right?

You spend $8 on shoes at Wal Mart its like, yeah, that's about the going price, and they look like they cost about that much. You spend $8 on some Nikes and hey, you've got yourself a deal.

That's the only real purpose to buying anything brand name or shopping at a place like Kohl's, is to say that you're wearing a pair of ump-teen hundred dollar sunglasses that you got for 99 cents after all the discounts. Otherwise you're just a mindless idiot that falls for everything the commercials tell you.

Well then there were more epic shopping wins at Stater's. Big bags of frozen chicken breasts (not my usual brand but whatev) for $5. David got a tri-tip roast and had them cut it into steaks, which equaled to six steaks for $8. And I forgot to mention something very important, Wal Mart has 24 packs of diet Dr Pepper for $5.50. The 12 packs are $4.48! Why would you not get that? Plus they have coupons for $1.50 off the next box right on them. Wal Mart is our new place to buy the diet DP.

And Stater's is giving away tickets for a raffle with a prize of free gas for a month. For every $50 you spend they give you a ticket, plus for every $25 over the initial $50 they give you another ticket, so we entered five times plus I have two in there from last week. I am in for the win, that gas will be mine!

Okay, so then I went to the yarn store and paid $10 for everything that you see here. That was only pulled off because I actually returned about $30 worth of yarn that was leftover from a sweater that I made and a few skeins that I bought over a year ago and never found a project for. Yes, there is always potential for later projects, but I needed yarn for specific projects that I could be making now if only I had the stuff.

I got two skeins of brushed mohair, bamboo circular needles (size 4,) two sets of bamboo DPNs (double pointed needles) in 8 and 9, and a cable needle because David is demanding a cable knit sweater and insists that it is time for me to learn cables. The yarn is for this shawl in which I intend to make for Mustang Sally because it has bats on it and she's from Transylvania and all, and the DPNs are for a hat for Liz in Seattle that will match the scarf I mentioned yesterday.

If the bat shawl goes well, I will totally make more of them. But it will take me years to complete, I'm sure. Maybe it will be done by Halloween.

Anyway, I felt kind of bad returning all of that yarn and the lady making no profit off of my sale because there was a sign on the door when I entered explaining a cut back of hours due to the economy, which to a little old lady's 400 square foot yarn store means "business aint doing well." So I also bought a magazine and promised to be back in September for sweater stuff.

But you've got to love this place regardless, because I told her that I needed 660 yards of black laceweight yarn, and she got all excited about that glittery mohair up there because each skein has 550 yards in it and they're only $10 each and how much of a bargain it is. I swear, even when I go in with the intention of spending money on good expensive yarn for a big project like a sweater, she always draws my attention to something less expensive. David has said himself to her that if he felt like she was trying to sell him something he wouldn't shop there.

And technically, the store lost no money because now they have merchandise to sell and I did spend the full amount there at one point.

At any rate, the shopping wins were epic today, were they not?

Labor Bored

There was nothing to do today. There was nothing to do yesterday (except change the oil on the car, but that's only entertainment for David really.) Tomorrow should be different, as we will have monies and therefore shopping to do. Food shopping. And shoe shopping for Ty, which I plan to do at Kohl's because they sent me a $10 gift card and they have a sale on shoes. I'm not really a Kohl's shopper, but I'll go since they bribed me.

Today David got up at the butt crack of dawn to run, and the kids got up at the same time to be little shits. The good thing is that since David has been on vacation, Wade has finally decided to get on board the potty train, so I haven't changed a diaper in days. He's in the pull-ups, but when he has an accident in those he just takes care of it himself.

When he got back, he cleaned (sort of) and lulzed around on the internet I think because my computer was on when I got up, but then he complained of being bored again. I set him to work sewing up a purse that I knit a while back, and of course he hated it, but really there is NOTHING else to do here. It's not like we can go outside, since it's not only 99 degrees out but also windy, humid, covered in snot, and smelly like rotten eggs. I don't know what the smell is all about, but David claims that it's because the wind is from the desert and there is a plant out there that smells like rotten eggs.

What kind of god would make a plant that smells like rotten eggs?

So clearly it was an inside day, which led to inside activities. The kids smashed Play-Dough into their hair, their clothes, their mouths, and the carpet built Play-Dough sculptures worthy of museums while he worked on that purse and I worked on more unsolicited knitting. This here is a mock woven tea rug to match that tea mitten I made for Stacey. It's swell and super easy to make. And so I don't get bored and abandon the project like I sometimes do when something gets too repetitive, I am also working on a scarf to send to Liz in Seattle with the Bombshell manuscript as payment for her editing. The scarf is rather appropriately named "Liz In Seattle."

Don't worry Adena, I'm building you a package soon as well.

And if anyone else wants junk, just say so. I'm bored, and I probably wont be writing anything again until November.

So David, he got really bored with the sewing pretty quickly. He didn't finish the purse, but he did want something else to do. I'm pushing for him to organize the closets, which I only do once in a great while, but he really wants none of that. He says he's not labor bored, he just needs to be occupied. We watched some stuff on le Tubes, and he sat there while I browsed through knitting patterns on Ravelry. Then we ran across something that inspired the crap out of both of us. Little knit "voodoo dolls," or as the creator calls them, "Bad Juju dolls." He suggested that we make two of them for our lovelorn neighbor Mustang Sally. Since she's all into this spell casting stuff and asking me to participate in Voodoo-ing, we thought making a her doll and a her ex-fiance doll would be a clever payment for the unsolicited Romanian chocolate and Romanian cheese she brought us yesterday.

The chocolate was delicious but so was the cheese unfortunately and so now I am having a shitty day, literally. Oh well, at least I'm getting a lot of reading done.

So we are going tandem on the Bad Juju dolls, which sort of just look like socks in this early stage of their construction. His is the silver one (the girl) and mine is the black one. You cant tell but you're looking at the finished heads and half of the shoulders. They'll look cute when they're done, trust me.

And David, he says he doesn't really like knitting that much, but it beats sewing a purse or cleaning a closet.

I'm telling you, vacation was a stupid idea this week.

Though vacation has saved him from sitting in the rotten egg oven wind, so he might have done the right thing here.

Unsolicited Knitting And Tons Of Fun Jiggle

This is a tea pot cozy, or "mitten." I made it for Stacey because she is obsessed with tea and photographing the tea and buying all kinds of expensive tea related gadgets. I saw patterns for these on Ravelry and thought it would be just the thing for a tea fanatic...only I've finished it and now I'm not entirely sure what it does. It's like the lobster I knit. It doesn't do anything and yet...tea mitten. It doesn't hold in heat, or protect your hands from burning, it just is what it is. Another fine achievement.

I also made the tea pot that it is on years ago. I basically just like to make stuff. Even when nobody asked me to make it, I'll still make it.

I don't know, I just got tired of being like "I maded you a scarf, but it is like 107 out so sorry you cant never uses it, lol."

And the stupid thing is that I'm making a matching tea pot rug for it to sit upon. I mean, what the hell for? I'm a few steps away from being the crazy cat lady who talks to her house plants. Either way, I hope the recipient enjoys it (and that you'll take a look at her Flickr where you will find said tea photos.)

So anyway, looking at the picture that I took of us yesterday, I realized that David and I no longer match. David's working out and losing all this weight, and you know how when men lose weight it actually shows. Well it's making me look bigger, is what I'm saying, and it will only get worse when they kick his ass in academy and turn him into a 150 pound bag of bone and muscle. Something has to be done.

I'm relatively happy with myself, and I'm also fairly healthy. The problem lies in the fact that my husband is now shrinking down and I am being left here in the bloated dust, so I either need to lose weight too or marry a fatter man.

FYI, I did not date Quincy Jones in 8th grade because he was black, I dated him because he was the only boy taller than me. Because yeah, being tall and having short dates makes you look like a monster or an Amazon, just like having a way too skinny husband makes your curves look more like flub.

So anyway, my diet isn't the issue. I eat healthy and not very much. The problem is exercise, which I have very little time for. The pool is almost always disgusting in some manner, and by the time I get up it is way too hot to go for a walk outside with the kids. (I cant get up earlier because David gets up right at sunrise to run.) There's basically very few options here as far as getting up and doing something goes.

That's why the neighbor woman is teaching me the belly dance.

Now, I am not good at it. I am not good at any kind of dance, let alone something as advanced as this. This goes beyond ass-shaking 101, more like advanced make your body vibrate in time with the fast paced drumming in the background. I am so not coordinated enough to do it, I mostly just wiggle. The funniest part is that I have this habit of sticking my tongue out when I am trying to do something really hard, like knitting a really tight stitch, threading a needle, or...belly dancing. And I don't mean like in a sex kitten lick-my-lips sort of way, more like I stick my tongue straight out and make all these "Enh! Eh! Enh!" noises. The neighbor woman couldn't stop laughing long enough to teach me any more. But I am supposed to get more lessons tonight.

Also, instead of letting my arms out to the sides of me with my palms up in sort of a meditative relaxed position, I punch with them like a Rock'em Sock'em Robot.

Also sometimes I do The Carlton. Fresh Prince fans know exactly what I mean.

Hey, as long as I'm moving, it sure beats sitting around knitting shit to put on tea pots all day.

Video possibly to come of the horror that is the belly dance lessons.

Hike To Big Falls

We spent the first part of the day pretty much staring at each other. He ran to the store and stopped by The Cans to check up on things, and I sat knitting while the kids cleaned their room, but mostly we did nothing, and David started bitching about being bored.

"I'm bored, what should I do?"

"I dunno. Make some pancakes."

"Why?"

"I dunno. Just make some pancakes."

Well that turned into him organizing the pots and pans cupboard, but he was still bored, so he called his dad for advice. His dad's suggestion was to hike to the falls, so we did.

Thank god we share an interest in photography.

We packed some food and drinks, like little lunchable thingies for the kids and chips and salsa for us...

The hike isn't much of a hike, more like following a trail. These were taken along the trail...







And I'm of course like a pro and everything so I wore good hiking shoes (and socks that I knit up myself.)



This is where we stopped to eat and play in the water. I used a slow shutter to get the blurring motion effect of the water.









Wade was licking rocks (WTF?)



We're pretty cute for two ugly people



So then we went up higher after we ate to find "Big Falls." This is what we saw along the way...









And this is the so called "Big Falls" which are not so very big.

PS. This is where David and I used to go when we first started dating. We fell in love here, which is why we always wanted to name a little girl Brooke.

Staycation

The photo challenge this week was to play with natural light, so that's what I did here with these flowers. Top left was morning, bottom left was afternoon, top right was evening, and the bottom right was night time with a flash. These are untouched but cropped. I happen to think that the morning and afternoon pictures came out the best.

So I'm pretty much planning to stalk David with my camera this week, as there is nothing better to do. He's on vacation, which is rather lame considering we have no spending money and he's using most of his time applying for a job to replace the pizza place because all this gas and car repairing is why we have no spending money.

It's day one and he's already bitching. "Oh my god, I'm so BORED what is there to DO??? Why are the kids being so CRAZY???"

I tell him that it's like this all the time here for the most part. His counter-bitching was that it's different for me because I write and knit and clean. Uh, excuse me, but he's the one who taught me to knit, I've got plenty of working manuscript pages for him to read, and also he's home all week and therefore he's home to do dishes all week as well.

Being on vacation is no excuse to be an asshole, you still have to clean shit up.

So he cleaned the whole house. That was unexpected, and rather cool. Once he gets started he just generally goes for it and doesn't stop until he finds something better to do.

And the man is baby crazy. I swear to god, he was in here looking at online ovulation charts and asking me about Captain Bloodsnatch and being all "It'll be born when I graduate from academy!" I'm like, "You haven't been invited to academy yet," but this matters not to him. He said something in the middle of the night last night about seeds and he's a farmer and I have good dirt.

This makes nothing any different. We haven't used birth control in years. He's on some kind of "Im'a gunna be a cop" power trip. Whatever, I'm not going to try to talk him down off his Segway (which by the way I spelled Segue yesterday because I am a band geek and that's how I was taught.)

Oh god, David just walked in from the shower naked and says "I'm going to be naked-exercising. I might get aroused, just to warn you." He's doing sit ups.

The last time we spent this much time together was when he broke his collar bone.

This should be a fun week.

Daydreaming In Public

Something amazing and beautiful happened a few days ago that I didnt tell you about simply because I hadnt thought about it since it happened, and then when it did I realized that I made a mistake by not using it for blog fodder.

I was going to the post office, but not the real post office, just a privately contracted company that handles postal stuff. I go there because it isnt as busy as the real post office. It's right over by the fire station and the police station. Anyway, my kids had demanded to stay at the neighbor woman's house to watch Nickelodeon, and I was only going to be gone a few minutes so whatever. I went to this post office place.

So I get out of my car and I see something amazing. Right there several yards away from me over by the police station are three cops, and they're on Segues. Now, you all understand what a Segue is don't you? These weren't the cops that I saw, this is a borrowed picture, but this is basically what I mean.

Yeah, Beaumont has Segue cops.

So I stop dead in my tracks, and I am staring wide eyed at them. All three heads are turned to me because when you look at a cop they look back. Cops are rubbernecks, is what they are.

Suddenly I slipped into some kind of elaborate daydream. I imagined that they had maces; not like pepper spray, but maces, the chain and spikey ball things. Yeah, that would be full of win.

Only then it gets worse. I suddenly play this whole scenario out in my head where a guy is running down the street because he just stole a couple beers from the liquor store, and the Segue cops are in pursuit behind him shouting "Stop! You are in violation of the law!" Then one of the cops totally hits a rock and eats shit, and one of the still mounted cops turns around and sees his fallen brother and says to the other guy "We lost Jimmy!" The cop replies "He was a good man but we've got to keep going," and then yells "officer down" into his radio and continues the pursuit.

And then I'm thinking, hey, Officer Steppy is a creep and all but he has been offering to take me on a ride along. It's true that I've been avoiding him, but I might just give him a call if he can somehow work it out to give me a ride along on a Segue. I'm not asking to have my own Segue, as I can't afford to pay for it if I crash it, but perhaps he can just like wear me like a backpack or something and we can go bust punks for loitering in front of Starbucks.

Then suddenly I snap back to reality, and I realize that I've been standing there staring at them for god only knows how long. And they're still staring at me. Lord.

So I say "Uh...Hiya guys." They say hi back. "So..." I approach slowly, "how fast do these things go?"

Thirty five miles an hour they tell me!

So I just kind of ask them some bullshit questions about their Segues, like how they work and if they have other colors. I told them to have a nice day and went about my business, but whoa. Just whoa.

Look, I'm from Yucaipa. The only technological advancements that town ever sees are when churches get computerized marquee boards. Segue cops? In my Beaumont?

It's way cooler than you think.

Anyway, after I get back to the car, I imagined the conversation I had with them, only ending it by slapping one of them to the ground, stealing his Segue, and riding off into the sunset.

Thirty five miles per hour. God damn.

Who Do Voodoo?

Mustang Sally is into some weird shit.

Oh my god, what if I just wrote only that first sentence and then left the rest up to your imagination?

Anyway, Mustang Sally is into some weird shit. Today she asked me if I knew anything about Voodoo.

I'm like no.

She tells me, "I found spell to make you successful in these book, you see?" She shows me this book and flips through the pages. "You can have whatever you want, they have spells for it all."

I'm like "I don't um...I don't um...yeah...Sally that's not really my thing."

"Why not? You could have whatever you want."

"I have everything I want right now, and what I don't have I'm patient enough to wait for."

I'm looking at some pictures of her as a kid. She's got that round vampire face with the pointed arch eyebrows just like she does now. She informed me the other day that she's Caucasian like me, she just tans really well. I had no idea. To tell you the truth I always thought she was Mexican before we started talking.

She asks me if I've been pulled over recently, and I said no I haven't. The subject changed, then later she asked me if I called the cops recently, and again I told her no. Well then she asks me who the cop is. Just like that, too. "Who the cop is?"

What cop? David? David's not a cop yet.

Then she just says, "Be so careful around that cop, don't go alone with him to anywhere." Then she gave me a rosary, and tells me that it belonged to her mother and she thinks that I should have it, and again to be very careful around the cop.

Off...icer...Two...Step?

Then she got on the phone and started screaming at someone in Romanian. And gave me a macadamia nut cookie.

I'm still flipping through the pictures and I recognize the ones from her back covers of her novels. I said, "Hey Sally, do you read my blog?"

She said "Blog? What is blog? I never heard of blog, why do you have that?"

Then she started yelling in Romanian again as she looked for a pot or something in her kitchen. I never answered her.

The neighbor woman is a crazy goddam' gypsy. Crazy goddam' gypsy. And she is the closest thing that I have to a friend.

Are you lol'ing? Because I am lol'ing.

Anyway, I mentioned yesterday something about a Canadian publisher who is looking for short stories and novellas that are holiday themed, and how I am entering with the story of David breaking his collar bone right close to Christmas and all, and the shit that we went through when that happened. It isn't quite copy/pasted from the blog, I did alter it a bit, but I am keeping it in jounraling format. It comes out to 14,000 words, which equals what they call a "novelette."

I don't expect it to win, I'm just sort of doing this for the lulz. It's not my best work as far as writing goes, since it's pretty much written in my blogging style it isn't quite what I am fully capable of. Yes, I and many people think that my blog is captivating and the prose is somewhere between poetry and conversational or a little bit of both, but my fiction novel prose is a lot more detailed and rich with clever storytelling.

But I might as well enter, because why not, right? And maybe Mustang Sally can throw a hex on whoever decides to reject my entry, hmm? Guaranteed to win.

Now what's all this about a cop then?

My Days Now As Opposed To My Days Back Then

Once again Flickr requested that everyone take a picture of what they're doing on a specified day. I did this last year in May by taking a photo every half hour throughout my day from when I woke till when I slept. And this is last year's collage from that day...

My days a year ago consisted of (according to this collage) waking up, getting dressed, typing, doing dishes, knitting and watching Youtube simultaniously, shitting a lot, uploading pictures to Flickr, making a delicious smoothie, hanging with David on his lunch break, doing something in the kitchen, watering the plants, being annoyed by neighborhood children, felting something that I knitted, reading "Inlandia," typing up an entry for my failed "Inlandia" book club on my blog, having David make my phone calls because I hate talking to people, sewing something, finishing that sewing, doing laundry, watching Ty, watching TV, destroying an egg by overcooking it, and taking a shower.
I would like to think that my life is different now, since I no longer pimp the housewife title and instead scream at anyone who says hi to me I'M AN AUTHOR, I WRITE BOOKS NOW DAMNIT! But looking at this year's shots, not much has changed. I am still a shut in, and yet I still lead a surprisingly bloggable and photographable life.

Here is this year's collage from 8/8/08...

Let's see...8:00 am I got up and looked like hell. 9:00 am I was cleaning the bathroom. At 10:00 I was working on a brown sweater for Ty using some yarn that Mustang Sally gave me. At 11:00 I was going through a shit load of paperwork trying to find the receipt for the alternator we just bought because it went bad already. What kind of shit is that anyway? I didn't find it, and neither did David when he later dug through the trash. Right at 12:00 noon I was pooping and reading a book about the strip club industry as research for the second book in the Green series.

At 1:00 I made lunch for David and the kids, which was peanut butter and jelly bagels with grapes and oranges for the kids and pasta with chicken for David. I dont recall what I ate. Then at 2:00 I started working on a short story for a contest by a Canadian publisher who wants short holiday stories (novella and short story length.) I have a great one about the breadwinner of a poor family who breaks his clavicle and is out of work at Christmas time. You might remember that one, it's a doozey. Anyway, at 3:00 we have dirty dishes, and at 4:00 I put black ink in my printer. At 5:00 I watched the latest Project Chanology video, and then at 6:00 I made the kids some soup and crackers for dinner.

While waiting for David to come home from Autozone with the hopefully fixed alternator right around 7:00, I decided to paint my toenails. Then he comes home at 8:00 and tells me "I hit a car and now ours has a big dent!" I called him a lot of things I am not proud of but also he is a fucker and also I hate my car. And I hate that he rammed my car up under a truck because he was playing with the clock on the radio. At 9:00 I was still doing laundry and I got my stuff locked in the laundry room because I was distracted when Liz in Seattle called me on the phone and I forgot.

David and I closed out the day by watching a great little Youtube series called "Is It A Good Idea To Microwave This?" They do phones, batteries, soap, fireworks, a DVD player, tons of stuff, and it almost always catches fire. Highly recommend this series to everyone, it is worth the watch.

So that's how much my days have stayed the same. I still knit and watch Youtube, I still clean things, and David still pops in throughout the day to tell me that he broke something.

(Trombone going wah-wah-waaaaaaa, right?)

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Rad Little Kindergartner

I went kindergarten shopping today for Ty at Target since they seemed to have the best deals this week. They have a sale on the Ultimate Tees and Ultimate Polos and Ultimate whatever else, like Khakis or whatever other Ultimate things they have.

Clothes shopping makes me glad that I have boys, because you can practically put them in anything and it doesn't matter that much. You can buy a boy the same shirt in three different colors and its fine. Girls have all of those matching outfits and dresses and color palates, it's all very confusing. Shopping for Ty today was cheap and easy and hey, that's how I likes it.

He ended up with 13 shirts, 3 pairs of pants, 2 pairs of shorts (because he just got a few new pairs recently so we didn't need to buy much today,) a hoodie, 10 pairs of underwear, and 12 pairs of socks, plus crayons, paints, glue, a lunch box, and other miscellaneous school supplies for about $175. I'd call that fair. We got some good stuff. He still needs shoes though.

We got a few plain shirts that I'm going to have my sister fire up her embroidery machine on. I was going to buy the yarn for his back to school sweater and hat and stuff but he wont need it right away anyway. Plus now he has that cool hoodie with all the skulls on it. He's going to be one rad little kindergartner.

I even let him pick most of the stuff out. I'd bring him to a rack and tell him to pick the colors he liked. That's great, it's like shopping for David. David wears anything I bring him, and for some reason he's attracted to pink shirts. Whenever he shops for himself he always buys something pink, but it looks fine on him so I don't complain. David is incredibly secure and comfortable with himself and so the fuck what if he likes the pastels?

But then Ty said something today while we were shopping, and I assume that it's just a Ty thing and nothing deeper, because you know how he likes to hypothesize and ask all those questions. He says, "I'd just like to be a girl." He asks me "Can I be a girl?"

I said no.

He asked "Why cant I be a girl? When I'm older cant I just become a girl?"

Technically yes, but I told him no, he's a boy and that's just how it is. I'm not trying to stifle his free thought here, I'm just telling him the facts. He is a boy, and he cant be a girl without a lot of expensive and weird surgery.

He asked "But why am I a boy?"

I told him, "That's how you were made," and then asked him to pick what color of rugby shirts he liked. And that was the end of it. If it never comes up again I wont be surprised.

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For The Sea Food Lover In You

I knit up a lobster. I'm not entirely certain why, other than the pattern has been saved in my knitting queue since January and I needed something to do...but why I added this to my "things I want to knit" list is still a mystery.

No, I haven't finished writing that novel yet, but I'm close. I'm just stuck and I probably just need David to read up to where I'm at to push me in the right direction with it. I know what happens, just not how to take it from point A to point B.

At any rate, the LOLbster's name is El Guapo, which is the brand of guacamole seasoning that I have, and also what David used to name the lobsters that he used to make fight against other lobsters in death battles back when he worked in the meat department; not to be confused with the time at The Cans when the man from the sea made David battle the crab that escaped from the bag of recyclables in the parking lot.

El Guapo (Spanish for "the good-looking one") took only a day to make, and it wasn't hard at all. He was made in the round, which is like how I do the socks with all of those extra needles. The claws were tricky but he was relatively simple. The pattern is here. I don't know what I will do with it other than maybe put it on the dash in my car and have it be my mascot.

Perhaps I will make more. Perhaps I'll make an entire army of little knitted lobsters in a rainbow of colors. I'm thinking about pink and blue ones with little bells or rattles in the claws that could be used to delight babies. Maybe I'll make a gold one and hang it from my Christmas tree. Maybe I'll start randomly mailing them to people. I don't know, but it sure is cute, aint it?

David is on vacation all next week and we expect it to be pretty boring. We might still make it to the Aquarium of the Pacific for the boy's birthdays, and he plans to hike Mt. San Gorgonio. My brother from Kansas did it while he was here, it took him four hours. And guess what was at the top? A box with an Easy Button inside. Yeah, a four hour hike up a gigantic dormant volcano and a fucking cheap piece of plastic with a recorded voice saying "That was easy!" is waiting for you. Other than that we will probably stare at each other, maybe BBQ something with the neighbor, and knit. I have enough yarn here for months of stimulating stitchy entertainment, but he usually has to be threatened into doing it for some reason. He forgets how gratifying it is and just doesn't want to do it, but then he's left with no other options and he ends up remembering how much he actually likes it, and then stays up past midnight doing it.

But let me assure you, I don't knit because there's nothing better to do. I knit because people make patterns for things like knitted lobsters and it calls to my soul. Of the 50+ things I could have made yesterday, I made El Guapo, and now I am making a tea pot cozy for, yes, you know who you are, you know exactly who I'm making that tea pot cozy for, you sly fox.

Knitting is just, for lack of a better description, a really neat hobby that you should pick up. If not for the comradery of the knitting internet masses and the ability to appreciate a good wool, then do it for El Guapo, I mean seriously! Adorable! El Guapo is undeniably adorable. Knit him. Knit him now.

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Budgeting On A Budget

Mustang Sally gave me some vanilla sugar from Romania so I decided to start drinking hot tea again. Plus I have like 15 different boxes of tea that I need to get rid of. Plus Stacey is posting all of these pictures of her expensive tea cups and exotic herbs that she steeps, and I got jealous.

Nothing fancy here, this is just raspberry zinger with the vanilla sugar in it. There's a dirty hippy that sells exotic teas at the produce market that I used to work at, and I've tried a few of them but wasn't pleased. Like with the oolong, it just tasted like dirt to me. Whatever, I like fruit flavors, my favorite is Constant Comment which is an orange spice tea, and I'm fond of chai. And I buy the shit in boxes at the grocery store. I'm a pretty cheap date.

My favorite tea mug is this one here, which is a commemorative centennial cup for the Press Enterprise, which I used to deliver a few years ago. I bought it at the swap meat for $1, how about that? And the cool thing is that it is older than I am, since this is from 1978 and I was born in 1983, and it doesn't even have a single chip! I even dropped it in the dishwasher this morning and it lived.

But the very best tea ever is the loose leaf jasmine tea that they serve at my favorite restaurant, Mongolian BBQ. Only I haven't been there in quite some time because not only is it in the ghetto but it is like 35 miles from here and gas is shitty. The car is too. On Saturday night the car started acting funny while he was delivering pizzas, and it turned out his battery was low, so he went and bought a new one. Then the car died two hours later and he had to come home early, meaning he got no tips hardly, which we needed because we just paid rent and apparently bought ourselves a car battery, only to find out that it was the alternator. Fucking fuck.

The good thing is that David knows how to put an alternator in. He did that in the Autozone parking lot while my sister drove me and the kids to the doctor's office to have Ty's TB test looked at, which is where we encountered a health examination nightmare. Now this observation is combined with a few observations that I made during the last visit, like the fact that there was a thick black long hair on the bed pillow in the exam room, and I had to ask the nurse to change the paper shit on the bed since it was clear that they hadn't already (which I thought was standard sanitary procedure.) But then we get there on Sunday, and the trash cans in the exam rooms were over-full and billowing with trash. Fucking eew, right? We're talking medical trash, like the papers from the beds, rubber gloves, cotton balls, other gross and potentially dangerous shit like that. Even if it is the weekend, can you not afford to pay someone to take out the trash? You're a doctor! Not to mention the fact that they lost Ty's paper that was supposed to go to the school district, then claimed that I never gave them one, then when I brought them a replacement the original magically was found under a coffee mug or some shit instead of in his chart.

I don't think I'm overreacting, it seems normal to want clean visit rooms. The fucking county free clinic is cleaner than this place, and I am SO switching doctors, because fuck that, okay?

At any rate, we finally got everything together so we could get Ty enrolled in kindergarten. Next week we have clothes shopping to do so I'm tracking the ads for the good deals. Looks like Sears and Target are the best bet at this point, but if anyone else knows of any good places I am open to suggestions. Gas prices are raping us and David still cant quit the pizza job yet, not until there is another job for him. He's asking for a well deserved raise at The Cans which he will probably get, but for now we have to find some corners and cut them budget wise. But how do you do that when there are like no possible corners to cut? It's like round here. We don't even own a TV so no bill there, my internets are borrowed from my neighbor, we live in the cheapest apartments in town, our auto insurance is only like $30 a month, so what is there to cut? Entertainment? What entertainment? We don't go anywhere because gas is too expensive. We don't even go bowling because we think that the amount of money spent will not equal a big enough smile on the kid's faces to make it worth it.

I have decided that there will be NO eating out at all, with the exception of the buffet at the casino on Tuesdays because it's two for one and both kids eat free, and you cant beat unlimitedly feeding a family of four for only $20. That's just a deal is what that is. And Wade needs to quit being such a butt and just go on the damn toilet. No more of this half and half stuff, he needs to just be out of diapers. He's getting there but not fast enough for my liking and budget.

So I'm back to clipping coupons and studying the ads like mad till we get a little more balanced.

PS if you tip your pizza boy anything less than $3; $5 if you live really far away, you are a douchebag and be warned that at least in the Banning/Beaumont area the pizza places are starting to perma-ban frequent non tippers from ever ordering pizza from them again, so shell out the cash or go pick it up yourself.

He had better make it into CHP this time, that's all I'm sayin'.

What David Is Getting Himself Into...

A little peek at what they do in the CHP academy...



And how they'll teach him to drive...



Is this awesome? (yes or no)

Blocking Out The Scenery Breaking My Mind

This week's photo challenge was "signs," as in billboards, street signs, wacky signs, the like. I did want to find a sign saying "long haired freaky people need not apply," because how much win would that be, right? Regardless, I think I hit the jackpot as far as the idea of getting funny ones goes because I went to Yucaipa for this photo challenge, which is my home town.

This one was taken in Yucaipa in some crazy old man's yard who used to have a sign that said "I do not dial 911" with a gun by it but they took that down. The war on gas...



Which is funny because gas wars now look like this...



RUN BABE! RUN!



Crotchety old people in the park where my parent-in-laws live have signs in their yard like this...



And this...



These people can't make up their mind on what kind of restaurant to open...



That's like saying "America Buffet: China style!" Stop corrupting the foods!

And here's a business that you'll wonder, you know, like why they chose to change these C words into K words, like why they thought that was a good idea.



The good ol' KKK. Only in Yucaipa, right? The city I hail from, I am so proud. (Actually I hear this is a pretty decent place to eat and it's been there for years, so nobody else is noticing how odd this combination of letters is...or the city approves of it, which wouldn't surprise me either.)

Something else that is one of those "only in Yucaipa" things is this house that we saw today. It's not a sign, but I made it into a motivational poster, because...wow.




Pretty much sums it up. Billions of plastic lawn flamingos. Flamingo house is located only miles from Radioactive house in Yucaipa.



Yucaipa's got something wrong with the water supply I think. And in Beaumont our town weirdness is mostly crack head related. It's hard to decide which is the less of the two evils.

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Rough And Tumble

Wade is three years old finally.

Happy birthday Wader/Poop/Wadermelon/Wader-Terminator


Music is "Flying" by The Beatles

Getting Ready To Make The Switch

I've made a conscious decision to change my objective as far as how to keep busy for the rest of the year. I am going to finish writing the novel I've been working on for the past two months, and now that I've finished inking all over the Bombshell manuscript, I am going to put my writing time aside for knitting time. I will probably participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) come November but for now I'm going to replace the tapping of keys with the clicking of needles.

Once this one is done, I will have completed three manuscripts in 2008, plus the ones that I didn't finish. I think that's enough for me to take a break. Considering that this latest one wont be published for five years, I've got time to make a sweater or two.

This is one that I just finished up, it's a newborn sweater that I call Corbin. I call it that because I want to name something Corbin but not a child because I'm not sure how much I actually like the name, so I'm putting it on a sweater instead. It didn't take long because I used big yarn and big needles and it is tiny, but this is just one of my take along projects. It rides in my purse and I take it out when I have to wait in the car or at a restaurant or the doctor's. It's cute and soft, and I don't do much baby work so I really like it and want to fill it with something. If anyone knows a wee little baby about newborn size let me know and it's yours for the taking. (The sweater, not the baby, in case the baby is someone else's. I don't want to give permission for kidnapping because it might anger the parents.)

I generally switch hobbies like this with the seasons or the weather. When it is hot and gross outside I tend to write, simply because I don't want miles of wool on my lap when it is 103 out. Even in the air conditioning it feels unnatural, like egg nog in May. Or a candy cane in your trick-or-treat bag. So I usually knit in the fall and winter and part of spring intermittently.

I've already gone and updated my Ravelry cue with patterns like this and this and I also plan to make a ton of these.

I also intend to make a lot of wool hats for David. Hopefully he'll be going North in a few months for Academy, and he wont spend another winter in the bins, even though he pretty much got out of it last year with his broken clavicle. Either way, it's nice to knit warm things for people who need to be warm, which I don't get to do a lot of because of where I live.

Last year I learned sock knitting, and this year I may pick up cables. I should pick up cables, they're every-goddamn-where. And Ty needs his hat and scarf for school again like I did for him last year because he already outgrew his preschool hat. I have a great pair of socks that I need to finish up, and David was nice enough to start sewing up my brown sweater, the one that I was blocking the other day which almost resulted in me flooding my house. Yeah, he does the sewing, I cant sew, I go cross eyed. But I could use spider silk on a pair of hypodermic needles to knit, so how weird is that?

And Mustang Sally next door knits too, so I might could hang out with her and knit. Yes she is also a writer but she writes in that Romanian psychobabble talk. Just look at their alphabet!

A, a (a); Ă, ă (ă); Â, â (â din a); B, b (be), C, c (ce); D, d (de), E, e (e); F, f (fe / ef); G, g (ghe / ge); H, h (ha / haş); I, i (i); Î, î (î din i); J, j (je), K, k (ka de la kilogram), L, l (le / el); M, m (me / em); N, n (ne / en); O, o (o); P, p (pe); Q (chiu); R, r, (re / er); S, s (se / es); Ș ș (șe); T, t (te); Ț ț (țe); U, u (u); V, v (ve); W (dublu ve); X, x (ics); Y (i grec); Z, z (ze / zet).

Yeah, but I kind of want to learn it because she says that the books that she wrote are straight up porn, and I feel like I am missing out on something by not being able to read it. But I have no time to learn another language, I have to finish this damn novel so I can finish my cool socks. I call these "Good and Plenty." The yarn is actually partially made from shrimp and crab shells because it makes it naturally antibacterial, which is good in sock yarns. But nobody gets these, they're mine. Back off.

So yes, once again if you're wanting me to make something, now would be the time to ask nicely. I'm in the mood.