at least it's not 3 a.m.

it's 6 a.m.

why can't i sleep in? feh. i will therefore drink cranberry juice and watch "lost boys" in my pajamas.

and remember: you'll never grow old, and you'll never die. but you must feed.

yes, i am awake at 3 a.m.

props to michellend and geffre for these great pictures of the kiddo.

dandy quiz, jege!

Find your own pose!

Fireman's Carry Traits and Tendencies

Fireman's Carry is the pose of two people who are fully committed. They may feel reluctant to commit to anything else in their lives (Fireman's Carry couples tend to rent versus own, and respond to every invitation with a "maybe"), but their dedication to each other is unshakeable. Fireman's Carriers often arrive at this level of committment rather suddenly; after a lifetime of keep-away, they encounter their person in some unexpected location (the DMV), and their reluctance to get involved evaporates with a suddenness that surprises everyone they know.
Comfort Zone

The Fireman's Carry pose is in the Wind Sleeper zone; other Wind poses you might like include The Zipper, and Bird in Hand.

A Warning about Sizing
Fireman's Carriers often think they're shorter and thinner than they really are, which can lead to overly snug clothing if catalog shopping is relied upon too heavily.

(did this quiz just call me fat???)

Excerpts from the Gospel of Judas

A post everyone should read.

yay for fridays!

boo for sick kids. poor kiddo was up for many hours in the middle of the night, so she spent the day at home from school. we've watched movies, napped, played Life and are now watching "the 'burbs." that's right. "the 'burbs." and she freakin' loves it. because she rules.

tomorrow's agenda: trade car for cash with person who wants it. take stuff to the storage unit.

ummm..... might be all.

and i just heard my kid yell "it smells like they're cooking a goddamn cat over there!"

she's perfect.

congrats!

congrats to c. george on his job! woot woot! congrats to my sister on a smashing phone interview! you both kick total ass!

daily quiz time

You are an Atheist

When it comes to religion, you're a non-believer (simple as that). You prefer to think about what's known and proven. You don't need religion to solve life's problems. Instead, you tend to work things out with logic and philosophy.

What's Your Religious Philosophy?

Your Inner Blood Type is AB!

Your personality is hard to define - you're very unconventional. And even if your personality could be defined, it would be completely different next week! Outgoing and shy, sensitive and thoughtless, you tend to have a very split personality. This makes you unpredictable. You can be a total angel - and a total devil. You are most compatible with: everyone! Famous Type AB's: Jackie Chan and Marilyn Monroe

What's Your Inner Blood Type?

this is fairly intriguing

i'd be interested in learning more about this.

and might i just add ...

... that my friends and family totally rock.

a run o' the mill day, i suppose.

the subaru has been resurrected! go dustin on that whole "alternator installation" thing. (and he broke a tool on that damn bolt too, so it wasn't just me.)

am considering the sale of our jetta, as it needs a fuel pump and i feel as though we should get out of that nightmare ASAP. (it's on craigslist, if anyone is interested in a fixer-upper.) luckily we can manage with one car for a little while.

i just heard a clatter from the living room -- i can only assume a dog is chasing a cat. or many cats are chasing a dog. however we have trimmed down our menagerie of cats from six to four, and one more is on her way out, hopefully.

or else it's a hockey mask-wearing psychopath making a mess of my clean house. i'd make that bastard PAY.

song playing currently: Baby Ruth in Atlanta by Jude

official interview at target corporation scheduled for tuesday at 12:30. it sounds like a sure thing, but you never know. my head could explode mid-interview.

(note to self: take anti-exploding head serum.)

will pick up abbey today from school and hang out with her in uptown until dust is finished with work. i love abbey time. and every wednesday that i see her she's just a little bit funnier, a little bit older. which yes, i know the latter is obvious, but the way she talks, the jokes she makes, even the expressions she has, seem more and more... pre-teen, as opposed to fourth-grader.

she wants to start babysitting in a year or so -- i'll enroll her in one of those babysitter classes and then i'll pimp her out to my friends who have children younger than her. (you listening, emily?)

she also mentioned she wants to become jewish. not sure where that stems from, but it's interesting to hear her talk about it. although she's made it pretty clear she would not want to keep it kosher.

song playing: Right Where It Belongs by NIN

(sidenote for jege: the concert will totally kick your ass. seriously.)


and here is some spam i received today.

who would have thought???

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy

In your life, things are so twisted that you just have to laugh. You may end up insane, but you'll have fun on the way to the asylum. Your best movie matches: Being John Malkovich, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Psycho

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

time for some quizzes

What Your Underwear Says About You

When you're bad, you're very bad. And when you're good, you're still trouble! You're sexy, in that pinup girl, tease sort of way.

The Underwear Oracle

and another one!

You Are 32% Abnormal

You are at low risk for being a psychopath. It is unlikely that you have no soul. You are at high risk for having a borderline personality. It is very likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at low risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is unlikely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at medium risk for having a social phobia. It is somewhat likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

How Abnormal Are You?

(gosh...what a shock.)

another? why not?

You Should Be a Joke Writer

You're totally hilarious, and you can find the humor in any situation. Whether you're spouting off zingers, comebacks, or jokes about life... You usually can keep a crowd laughing, and you have plenty of material. You have the makings of a great comedian - or comedic writer.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

a lesson in parenting

you have two boxes of cereal in the pantry. one is cinnamon toast crunch (yum!), the other is berry lucky charms (feh). you almost pour yourself some cinnamon goodness only to realize there is really only enough left for one bowl, and you know your kid LOOVES this cereal. so you eat the berry lucky charms, knowing you've done a good thing.

well THAT was a bad idea.

removed some bolts, one bolt was being very stubborn, so i moved onto the next bolt. then i tried the stubborn bolt again (because obviously it should have learned a lesson or something), but it wouldn't budge. and i tried some more, resulting in a broken tool because of my brute strength.


so yeah, i'll wait until dustin gets home. but i felt pretty cool when the bolts were cooperating at first.

a class i should have taken in high school

our subaru has, possibly, a bad alternator. i want to have this alternator tested for free at a place near our house, however ... the alternator has to be REMOVED before i can do this. sure, i could wait until dustin is home from work tonight. i could. BUT that doesn't fit with my instant gratification schedule, therefore I, KARI LARSON, WILL REMOVE AN ALTERNATOR ALL BY MYSELF.

i think. i dunno. i'll try.

why didn't i take the auto mechanics class they taught in high school? was i too good for it? because i could kick my own ass for not doing it then.

not spam? are you sure?

received this in my inbox today:

"We have narrowed our search to you. Please help us by emailing us your full name and phone number. We believe you might be the closest inheritor of a huge family values and cash left under our care for many years back by your grand or great grand relatives.  Who have passed on a long time ago. This is very important to us. Take it serious.  This might be your final chance to claim your inheritance. This is not a spam letter."

i'll bet they are liars.

can't wait to see this!!!

"An American Haunting" is supposed to be very, very scary. fun!

i need to see some gore.

tonight=bad movie night. hurrah!
so here's my thing with horror movies. it is total and complete escapism.
i may have utter fucking chaos in my life but I KNOW that i'm not being chased by a nuclear mutant.

oh for crap's sake.

i live in the klopek's house.

for those of you not familiar with "the 'burbs," the klopek's house is the scary house that has some sort of flying, stinging insects that fly out from behind the house number.

well guess what.

there are some nail holes in our siding underneath our house number. and the other day i noticed a flying insect crawl into the hole. "that's odd," i thought. "it flies in the manner of a bee, but is not black and yellow, like a bee."

so i'm googling "black bee" and here is what i'm learning:

1. it could be a carpenter bee; and

2. "the black bee" is the name of a sexual position.

great. so these little bastards are nesting INSIDE MY SIDING?

here is a picture of a carpenter bee (not my carpenter bee specifically, nor is that my fingertip.)

so i'm not sure what to do at this point. do i spray bee stuff into the holes? do i plug up the holes with chewing gum? ideas? the more creative, the better.

okay, the painting story...

here are some before pictures of our kitchen.

we used a toxic substance known as TPS ..or TSP... i can't recall the name. anyhow we were told by an older sister of mine that not only does it work well as a cabinet cleaner/degreaser, but also it would prime our particle board cabinets and prep it for painting.

well the paint didn't want to stick. and it looked crappy.



so we had a notion about spray paint. we wiped off the big globs of regular paint...



then we spray painted the fronts of the cabinets .





and the outcome? aside from a few touch-ups...



it seems to be a-okay.

we are declaring this the LAST major project in the home-selling extravaganza. no, seriously.

a really, really long day.

we had a house showing this morning and then ran errands until 4 or so. it was around that time we began our painting extravaganza, which i'm much too tired to explain in depth -- but it's been a long, chemical filled day i'll get into tomorrow. wait. it is tomorrow. i'll get into it later and i'll even include some damn pictures.

there's a birthday in the hizzouse!

Happy Birthday to Thomas!

a little bit o' paint and whatnot

today we'll be painting kitchen cabinets.

why did i start that like a home improvement show intro? i know not.

however be assured there will be photos to document the occasion.

oh PUH-LEASE... (okay, it's sort of like me)

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

props to jege -- or shall i call you "hitler"

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

an idea realized

to promote a cuddlier, softer image of trent reznor:

THE NINE INCH NAILS EASTER EGG COLORING KIT!

we're such dorks

okay, we've cleaned this house, top to bottom. we've done manual labor. we've made countless trips to the dump. we've done EVERYTHING we could think of.

well, almost everything.

what is the first thing you see when you open our front door? the ONE thing we forgot?



that's right. our pin-up marachi man.

who knows, maybe it will sweeten the deal...

*insert star wars theme song here*

we had a good time coloring eggs this year. kiddo picked out the package of dye, just so you know. (i have no preference, unless there is nine inch nails/trent reznor affiliated easter egg coloring kits. damn, that's a good idea.... i'll bet trent would be all over that kind of marketing.)

ooh, i feel a photoshop project coming on....

day of showings...

we had not one but TWO showings requested today!

fingers crossed.........

okey doke...

cleaning is done. scented things are purchased (nothing says "buy this house!" like a vanilla aroma). another trip to city pay dump tomorrow morning. a visit to the storage unit after the dump. then we take the dog and hang out at a park for an hour while we anxiously await people to fall in love with our abode.

i keep wishing there was more i could do --- tweak this, tweak that. nope. time for tweaking is done.

want to bake a batch of cookies or some bread to offer a nice, homey smell. don't want to use the oven b/c i just scrubbed the living hell out of it to make it clean. will decide when morning comes.

so tired.

might consider throwing down a few dollars for some flowers to transplant into our deck area. we'll see how ambitious i am before 12:45 tomorrow.

yeah, i'm wiped. i need a day at a spa. but i'm willing to settle for a saturday night with jose cuervo.

keep thinking "make an offer" thoughts, folks. no, seriously. do it.

i'm off to be a proper mother. (by "proper" i mean "not neglecting my child for housework.")

this post is loaded with links. and i'm not sure why.

yay!

someone's coming over tomorrow to look at our house! yay! everyone think "make offer" thoughts!!!!!

all things "'burbs"

i CAN'T believe that there are those who have never seen this gem of a film!  (c. george & p to the b, you know i mean you!)

so until that can be remedied:

click THIS for all the damn quotes you could want

click THIS for some nifty audio clips.

impress your friends! great for parties!

we're so online.

craigslist

this is pretty much the same listing as the one on the realtor site and on the mls. but this one has pictures of my clean house. (clean by my standards, anyhow.)

thanks, p-diddy!

Titanic II: Jack's Back

fuckin' a.

The Easter Bunny Hates You

i really need to get a video camera.

moving is a dangerous business

not sure what caused me to bleed, but i looked down whilst tidying up the computer room and surprise! hand of blood!

and yes, i stopped to take a photo BEFORE tending to my wound. that's the way i roll.

this is the last room that really needs any work and it's gone by rather quickly. basically my philosophy is this: i sort NOTHING before i pack it. unless it's something that is obviously stained with pizza sauce or coffee, it goes in the box. why? because at a later time i will have time to sort through it. now? no time at all.

dustin did a few interesting acrobatic moves the other night. we were using the garden claw in the garden area of the back of our house. the garden area is three levels, retained by vertical logs. dustin was standing on the third tier of logs and lost his balance. he bounced (that's right, BOUNCED) onto the next lower tier, then again, BOUNCED onto the stairs next to the tiers, then totally nailed his landing onto the pavement below. it was AMAZING. here, let me illustrate.




i only WISH he could have seen what i saw. he's quite nimble, actually, because had i lost my balance, i would have been bleeding from the head.

and my hand has yet to clot. AWESOME. when i pick up kiddo today it will appear that i kicked some ass in a bar brawl.

i received a funny email link one day a while back and i forgot about it until now. it was a print out of an article from Housekeeping Monthly for May 13, 1955. Here are the highlights from The Good Wife's Guide:

Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking of him and are concerned for his needs.

Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking.

Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.

Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first -- remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

A good wife always knows her place.

i guess i better go put on that box of macaroni and cheese so dustin knows how much i think about him and care for his needs.

the day has come

our house is officially on the market today. we even have the lockbox on our front door to prove it. tomorrow will bring the yard signage and this saturday will feature an open house.

anybody wanna buy a house?

what a nifty link!

thanks, d!

and might i add ...

... that whichever genius put "fume free" on the easy off oven cleaner was a fucking liar?

quick update from the chaos

have been cleaning most of today. had informational interview regarding contract (possibly to full time hire) job at target corporation (which went very well, i'd say). found a duplex we both really like near the kiddo's school. am experiencing an allergic reaction to cleaning chemicals that is making my inhaler my new best friend. will continue doing house-related stuff for better part of tomorrow and will then drink self to sleep.

back to the suck.

the aging process

i will turn 31 one month from today. how do i feel about that? feh. it's fine. i'm still really, really glad to be done with the twenties. i feel like i have a little more "street cred" since turning 30 (not that i look 30, as i still get carded for cigarettes). maybe it's the idea of being a younger parent. the kiddo's friends all have parents in their 40s and up, so when there are birthday parties, girl scout events, etc., i still feel like i should be sitting at the kid's table at dinnertime.

and later today i shall entertain you with photos regarding marshmallow fluff. no, seriously, you will be entertained.

but for now we are off to be pummeled by my sister's kids.

the crazy fucking people in our neighborhood

sitting on the porch in the morning, having a smoke and thinking how much i'll miss the porch, the house, the neighborhood.

then i see a man across the street, walking slowly with his hand on the front of his jeans. he sees me, i look the other way. i look back and he unzips his pants, turns his back to me and begins to PEE in the yard of the house across the street. (a house up for sale, no less.) cars pass, he looks left, he looks right, he continues peeing.

broad fucking daylight. i've never seen such a thing.

after looking down at my feet i look back up and see him walking away. he had left his mark, marked his territory, and he was done.

----

yesterday our realtor is leaving our house. a man approaches us/him and begins screaming "i need to ride a motorcycle!" we never found out why.

------------

that is all i have to report at this time.

thanks, C. George...

(click on above image to see full size)

... for this fantastic link!

yay!

informational interview scheduled for monday morning at target corp. hurrah!

thanks for the link, dust.

"Only the atheist recognizes the boundless narcissism and self-deceit of the saved. Only the atheist realizes how morally objectionable it is for survivors of a catastrophe to believe themselves spared by a loving God while this same God drowned infants in their cribs. Because he refuses to cloak the reality of the world's suffering in a cloying fantasy of eternal life, the atheist feels in his bones just how precious life is--and, indeed, how unfortunate it is that millions of human beings suffer the most harrowing abridgements of their happiness for no good reason at all."

this is a really good read, for athiests and non-athiests alike.

hmm. one of those days.

maybe it's the stress of the house situation getting to me. it just feels like one of those shite days (evenings, really) where even though i faithfully take my meds like a good little trooper, they don't do the trick. i feel like so much of my time is spent simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. and where the fuck did that phrase come from, anyway? (note to self: google "other shoe to drop" origin.)

i think i just want to rewire my brain at times and teach it how to respond rationally to situations, instead of assuming i'm going to be hit with catastrophe after catastrophe. hoping for the best but not only preparing for but expecting the worst. one thing sets in motion a whole snowball of crap and my mind just spins out of control. i'm just tired of my brain working this way, that's all. i'm tired of one thing in my life beginning to mend and then something else begins to unravel. the upside to my personality is that i have capacity to feel things so incredibly -- when i feel love it's amazing, when i feel empathy, when i have a flurry of wonderful emotions, i eat, sleep and breathe them. the downside of course is that the other end of the spectrum really kicks me in the ass. i don't just feel sad, i feel like my heart is actually breaking. that fear of never being able to stop crying is what keeps me from starting most days. when i feel angry it's so intense and so unlike who i think i am that i internalize it and blame myself for everything.

and i know i'm tough, and i know i can take whatever is tossed my way. i just want some days where i don't feel like i have to prepare myself for that. a day where i just ... exist and not worry about what ifs and blah blah blah blah blah.

time to watch "the 'burbs" and enjoy our nice spring thunderstorm.

things i'll miss, things i won't.

moving is a mixed bag.

things i'll miss about our house:
a. the porch. the lovely lovely porch that is perfect on a day like today, on a night like tonight
b. the space we have.
c. the original, 98-year-old woodwork.
d. the hardwood floors we discovered under really icky carpet.
e. the basement that allowed us to toss in things at will.
f. our backyard that we seldom used. but whenever we get up there (it's up on a hill) i always think, "i love this backyard."
g. our neighbors are really nice and let us use things like wrenches and weed wackers.
h. the idea that our money was not being pissed away on rent, but going into something.
i. having white-trash picnics on the porch with terry (booze and a bucket of KFC).

things i'll not miss about our house:
a. a large driveway filled with snow to remove.
b. mowing.
c. gardens that we never actually did anything with.
d. the crap that sometimes happens on the east side of st. paul
e. dealing with utilities like water and heat and garbage.
f. plumbing issues.
g. the mortgage payment that became ABSURDLY high.
h. how far it is from most places we frequent, esp. kiddo's school.

so i'm a little weepy, a little emotional, but i know it's really just a dwelling, a building, and that it's not the most important thing.

this post is long but it's a great passage from a book.

i've recently re-read some parts of "out of her mind: women writing on madness." here is a really great passage from susanna kaysen's book, "girl interrupted." kaysen was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder as a teenager. (and don't bother seeing the movie ... you'll just be disappointed.)

Insanity comes in two basic varieties: slow and fast.

I'm not talking about onset or duration. I mean the quality of the insanity, the day-to-day business of being nuts.

There are lots of names: depression, catatonia, mania, anxiety, agitation. They don't tell you much.

The predominant quality of the slow form is viscosity.

Experience is thick. Perceptions are thickened and dulled. Time is slow, dripping slowly through the clogged filter of thickened perception. The body temperature is low. The pulse is sluggish. The immune system is half-asleep. The organism is torpid and brackish. Even the reflexes are diminished, as if the lower leg couldn't be bothered to jerk itself out of its stupor when the knee is tapped.

Viscosity occurs on the cellular level. And so does velocity.

In contrast with viscosity's cellular coma, velocity endows every platelet an muscle fiber with a mind of its own, a means of knowing and commenting on its behavior. There is too much perception, and beyond the plethora of perceptions, a plethora of thoughts about the perceptions and about the fact of having perceptions. Digestion can kill you! What I mean is that the unceasing awareness of the process of digestion could exhaust you to death. And digestion is just an involuntary sideline to thinking, which is where the real trouble begins.

Take a thought—anything; it doesn't matter. I'm tired of sitting here in front of the nursing station: a perfectly reasonable thought. Here's what velocity does to it.

First, break down the sentence: I'm tired —well, are you really tired, exactly? Is that like sleepy? You have to check all your body parts for sleepiness, and while you're doing that, there's a bombardment of images of sleepiness, along these lines: head falling onto pillow, head hitting pillow, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, Little Nemo rubbing sleep from his eyes, a sea monster. Uh-oh, a sea monster. If you're lucky, you can avoid the sea monster and stick with sleepiness. Back to the pillow, memories of having mumps at age five, sensation of swollen cheeks on pillows and pain on salivation—stop. Go back to sleepiness.

But the salivation notion is too alluring, and now there's and excursion into the mouth. You've been here before and it's bad. It's the tongue: Once you think of the tongue it becomes an intrusion. Why is the tongue so large? Why is it scratchy on the sides? Is that a vitamin deficiency? Could you remove the tongue? Wouldn't your mouth be less bothersome without it? There'd be more room there. The tongue, now, every cell of the tongue, is enormous. It's a vast foreign object in your mouth.

Trying to diminish the size of your tongue, you focus your attention on its components: tip, smooth, back, bumpy, sides, scratchy, as noted earlier (vitamin deficiency); roots—trouble. There are roots to the tongue. You've seen them, and if you put your finger in your mouth you can feel them, but you can't feel them with the tongue. It's a paradox.

Paradox. The tortoise and the hare. Achilles and the what? The tortoise? The tendon? The tongue?

Back to tongue. While you weren't thinking of it, it got a little smaller. But thinking of it makes it big again. Why is it scratchy on its sides? Is that a vitamin deficiency? You've thought these thoughts already, but now these thoughts have stuck onto your tongue. They adhere to the existence of your tongue.

All of that took less than a minute, and there's still the rest of the sentence to figure out. And all you wanted, really, was to decide whether or not to stand up.

Viscosity and velocity are opposites, yet they can look the same. Viscosity causes the stillness of disinclination; velocity causes the stillness of fascination. An observer can't tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy.

Something common to both is repetitive thought. Experiences seem prerecorded, stylized. Particular patterns of thought get attached to particular movements or activities, and before you know it, it's impossible to approach that movement or activity without dislodging an avalanche of prethought thoughts.

A lethargic avalanche of synthetic thought can take days to fall. Part of the mute paralysis of viscosity comes from knowing every detail of what's ahead and having to wait for its arrival. Here comes the I'm-no-good thought. That takes care of today. All day the insistent dripping of I'm no good. The next thought, the next day, is I'm the Angel of Death. This thought has a glittering expanse of panic behind it, which is unreachable. Viscosity flattens the effervescence of panic.

These thoughts have no meaning. They are idiot mantras that exist in a prearranged cycle: I'm no good, I'm the Angel of Death, I'm stupid, I can't do anything. Thinking the first thought triggers the whole circuit. It's like the flu: first a sore throat, then, inevitably, a stuffy nose and a cough.

Once, these thoughts must have had a meaning. They must have meant what they said. But repetition has blunted them. They have become background music, a Muzak medley of self-hatred themes.

Which is worse, overload or underload? Luckily, I never had to choose. One or the other would assert itself, rush or dribble through me, and pass on.

Pass on to where? Back into my cells to lurk like a virus waiting for the next opportunity? Out into the ether of the world to wait for the circumstances that would provoke its reappearance? Endogenous or exogenous, nature or nurture—it's the great mystery of mental illness.

i know the smell of evil!

we were at target and i walked past the clearance items in the pet department. i found several bottles of liquid that works to deter dogs from peeing on things. i picked it up to investigate further -- why was it on clearance? did it work? might it be a handy thing to have in a new apartment?

well i discovered, after scratching an itch on my nose that it was on clearance because the BOTTLES LEAKED. i had this liquid all over my right hand and now, my nose.

and it was the smell of evil.

i washed my hands as though i was lady macbeth.

i purchased an overpriced packet of hand wipes from the impulse aisle.

yet the evil remains.

(at least no dog will urinate on me.)

this is a really great post

props to andy for creating a fantastic analogy.

ooh! a spirited debate!

dig in!

damn, i'm a catch!

pretty neato. check it out here.

props to karen for sharing the link.

a song i've not heard in a while

i was so inspired by beck's "scarecrow," that i just listened to prince's "erotic city" for the first time in many a year. my first memory of this song is hearing it played in my sister's car as we stopped at a gas station to fill up. she left the tape player on while she was filling gas and i was too consumed with the fear that the car would blow up (due to the electronic equipment still playing) to really take in the lyrics.

a pretty great song, all in all. AND we've come full circle b/c i saw beck cover this song a few years ago.

it's the itunes shuffle game!

so i've put the itunes on shuffle and pressed play. here we go:

"lose yourself" by eminem
one of the two songs i really like by eminem. and it reminds me of my sister who knows ALL THE FREAKING WORDS. she rules. it's one of those songs that maybe you don't want to like, but when it comes on and you need a quick lift, a swift kick in the ass, it kind of does that for me.

"mr. self destruct" by NIN
what a fucking great song, and, if you didn't know, the beginning is sampled from lucas' first film, THX1138, which is something i didn't really know until just recently.
"you let me do this to you...i am the needle in the vein, i am the high you can't sustain, i am the pleasure of a whore, i am the need in you for more..."

"a kiss to build a dream on" by louis armstrong
this was actually on the now-defunct wedding soundtrack i was working on this past winter. i just don't think you can beat louis. this song make me feel...pretty.

"scarecrow" by beck
do you hear a little vintage prince in the beginning of this song? i do. and can i just say how fucking hot beck is? can i say that? there, i did.

"hurt" by johnny cash
fuck. you all know how i feel about this song. yeah, i can't even... yeah.
"but i remember everything..."

"just like heaven" by the cure
awww, another song that makes me feel pretty! i need to burn an "i feel pretty" cd. i remember this song was covered by a band from minot -- i think they went by the name of wade, but i could be wrong. it was kevin, andy, and cory? does my memory serve me correctly?

i made an appointment at the kelly temp agency for monday, but hopefully i'll hear something job-related before that time. i'm about a day away from selling fruit on street corners (and by "fruit" i mean "myself") so i'm keeping fingers crossed that i can keep that at bay.

and jude just came on. sigh...... he's singing "the asshole song" and it's dreamy.

what? are things looking up?

got word from a friend that target is, in fact, interested in me, so that KICKS ASS!

and props to my sister who has an interview! go bug! you should freakin' BLOG about it!

packing, pictures and whatnot...

am awaiting a phone interview to begin with target corporation --- yippee!!! wish me luck!

what moving looks like

so after four days of active packing/throwing, the garbage pile looks like this.

and the basement is STILL being emptied out.

but at 6 p.m. we are calling it quits for the day. why? because we have booze, that's why.

time for an actual post

it's april fool's day -- can't think of any specific gag to pull, so i guess just some run o' the mill posting will have to suffice.

it's 8 a.m. -- everyone else in the house is still sleeping, but stress has made it impossible for me to do so right now. yeah, this is starting to weigh down on me. the interview yesterday went pretty well, i'll know more next week. i should be hired there! i'm clever! i'm smart! fuck!

it's hard doing all this prep work for moving when we don't have a place lined up yet -- that requires a good deal of money and timing and finding someone who will rent to us despite my credit and who allows a dog and blah blah blah. basically i'm becoming paralyzed by all the things i have to worry about in the coming future.

don't know if we'll actually put it on the market or just sell it to an investor group to save time. will know more on monday.

but yeah, it's depressing to a certain extent.

it's just really easy to get stuck in one's head when times like these arise.

i'm very, very lucky to have such great friends who are offering to lend a hand. it means the world to me.

i kind of wish i could just stay in bed all day and not do stuff, and not worry about where and when and how much will it cost and blah blah blah blah blah.

i know this will pass, i know we won't be living in a cardboard box on the street. i'm just .... stressed.

okay, these are the last, i mean it.

from Dustin

from Abbey

another goodie from abbey

THIS RULES.

i can't stop doing these!

it's a short one this time around.

dustin is a gem.

his first commercial.

his second commercial.

my kid is AWESOME!

here's her commercial!

i know really funny people!

Check out the Tahoe commercials by John and Andy!

dixie is quite the helper

ahh, sleeping as though SHE has been the one cleaning and packing the past two days.

she has, however accomplished the following:
• knocking over garbage bin (twice, resulting in me picking up a broken glass that decided to imbed itself into my finger)
• urinated on TWO blankets

and that's while i've been at home. i'm leaving the house soon and i don't even want to guess what surprises will await my return.

as far as the Operation Remove Rubbish and Clutter (ORRC) goes:
bedroom -- done
abbey's room -- done
living room -- done
dining room -- done (mostly)

what remains?
upstairs tv room
storage closet
kitchen
bathroom
basement
computer room

then after ORRC comes Operation Clean Like a Lunatic.
who wants to play???

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

okay, feeling seriously overwhelmed right now. just realized i have a job interview tomorrow (yay!) but have nothing clean to wear (boo!) and crap to show as a portfolio (bigger boo!) and there are so many bags of trash, boxes of stuff and hampers of laundry that i am losing my mind. FUUUUUUCK.

maybe this is a good time to step out and have a cigarette. how is this house EVER going to be "market" ready?????????????????????????

(number of question marks = level of frustration)

my first commercial!

it's pretty rough, but i think i have a really big chance of winning this contest with my entry!
props to dustin for the heads up.

see? see how far i've gotten?

making a house "ready to sell" really really sucks, esp. when you depend primarily on area businesses supply of old cardboard boxes and it has just rained a lot. so there is not a whole lot i can do without boxes right now. so maybe i'll just dink around online, you know, just for a little while.

and if ANYONE has any boxes they would like to be rid of, let me know!

ugh!

moving sucks. for people who are pack-rats, who are NOT clutter-free individuals, who are not in any way neat-freaks, it REALLY REALLY SUCKS. and each time i start the moving/cleaning/packing process, i think to myself "next place i live, i will devote myself to cleaning often to make life easier." but it never actually happens. so, the living room and dining room are clutter free (except for those huge fucking boxes of books and movies to put into storage). what's left?

kitchen
bathroom
computer room
kiddo's room
storage closet
our room
basement
garage

yeah, i'm REALLY glad i just made that list. looking at that list certainly doesn't make me want to put my head through the wall or anything.

what i won't miss about home ownership

that's right. we had a whole clogged pipe situation. which dustin handled with the greatest of ease.



i handled it a different way.

and this isn't even the FIRST time i've heard of this happening!

TOO FUNNY!

and in the midst of all this shite...

i find that i have the most amazing, wonderful, supportive friends EVER.
don't think that i don't know how lucky i am, because i do.

the times, they are a-chaingin'

i just received a really nice email from my dad.

and after much consideration, dustin and i have decided to sell the house. it'll be an ASSLOAD of work, but the important thing is that we will still have a roof over our heads, abbey will still be a happy, healthy, wonderful kiddo, and dustin and i are doing better than ever. these are the important things to keep in mind.

and you can also bet your ass that if any of you know how to paint, scrub, sand or haul, i'll be calling you for help.

i need ideas, people!

i have vanilla, sugar, flour, eggs, oil, etc.

i lack butter.

what can i make?

(besides a trip to the grocery store.)

well SCREW YOU then!

call received from book place -- looks like they want someone with "more" book publishing experience. (i have none.)
well SCREW YOU. i don't want to be a part of an organization whose only purpose is to fund missionary training -- which i don't agree with anyways.
so THERE. nyah nyah nyah.

*weeping*

but i have an interview on friday at a different place. and besides the fact that they want someone with a degree (i have none except my degree in KICKIN' ASS AND TAKIN' NAMES) i might have a shot with my sparkling personality.

fuck, gotta remember where i left that sparkling personality.

being a girl is tough sometimes

i'm not a really really hairy person, but i have had it pointed out to me that yes, up close, you might be able to see some peach fuzz on my upper lip. when this was pointed out to me more than once, i decided it was time to buy something.



and then it makes you look like this:



but here's the rub: IT DIDN'T FUCKING WORK. so i guess if my goal was to make my skin red and irritated, it worked like a charm! sadly, i still have a bit of fuzz.

and that hissing noise? why, that's the sound of my self-respect, making a hasty retreat.

another day, another five job applications

that's right, i'm applying for five (5) jobs at the u of m. none of which have anything to do with my current field, but what the hell do i care?

and another place called me for a possible interview, so i need all available fingers crossed. no, really, i do.

is there something wrong with me?

because i'm wondering. because everyone in the free goddamn world likes "desperate housewives," and you know what? i don't think i really like it. teri hatcher looks like the joker. in fact, everyone except felicity huffman looks pulled taut, wth the exception of eva longoria, and that's only b/c she's a biscuit older than i am.
however my main gripe isn't that they are all botoxed. i just don't ...get it. maybe i should just be really glad that there is anything on tv that is not reality tv at this point. maybe there are very wealthy housewives who feel as though they have been forgotten by the entertainment industry, and this is their outlet, their voice.
then again i just watched disc 1 of 2 of "newlyweds," so who the hell am i to talk?

here are some pictures from this weekend. good times all around.


here is dustin playing with (getting ass kicked by) some kiddos.


my usual quest to find a way to take a picture where my eyes are actually open.


my two older sisters and i doing our best "charlie's angels."

a very very busy weekend already ...

... but sunday promises to be COMPLETELY EVENT FREE. nice! we've been busy with many kiddo-related activities... school functions, theater classes, visits with relatives. so busy, yes, but also fun. tonight's activities for me included watching dustin get pummeled by some kids. but they ganged up on him 4 to 1, so he fared pretty well, all things considered.

am currently chillin' like a villain at a sister's house while dustin and my brother in law fight on the bridge on the river kwai -- or pretend to on ps2. ahh, fighting nazis while drinking beer, just as it really happened, i'm sure.

things i'm hearing at the moment:

"ahh! i'm gettin' shot already."
"was that me?"
"no, that's me."
"it's not going so smoothly."

yes, JUST like it really happened.

might catch "syriana" at the cheap theater this weekend. will definitely read some more of laurie notaro (thanks, jege!) and rot my brains with the sims characters. i think i'm going to create a character and make him or her self-sabotage in ways i usually reserve for myself... is that living vicariously through sims? perhaps.

my sister and husband have a large boxing type apparatus in their basement. like a weeble wobble for grown ups and i LOVE IT. now, i'm a lover, not a fighter, but i'll tell you what: it felt mighty good to toss out some punches and kicks to that thing.

even though the last job was fairly evil, i do miss the afternoon walks in downtown and am thinking i need to kick myself in the arse to start walking again. sure, it was only a total of 20 minutes or so a day, but i feel all lethargic and puffy, things i didn't feel (as much) whilst doing a daily walk. crap, i guess all that talk about how exercise is "beneficial" might be true.

i am not a difficult person to entertain, but walking is SO FUCKING DULL. we have a lake not too far from our house (in the land of 10,000 lakes? wha?) but i have yet to get over there and join the ranks of the healthy and self-disciplined.

more things i'm hearing:
"no grenades. hmm."
"there is a prison over there. jeez! that guy's tough!"
"there's some stuff here if you need it."

and my eyes are beginning to close which can only mean one thing: if i don't sleep soon i may involuntarily drop to the ground and pass out from exhaustion, just like the sims do.

naptime.

jege rules!

JOIN ME AND JEGE IN FIGHTING THE GOOD FIGHT!

sometimes she lets loose...

... she puts on dustin's hat and coat and dances around while listening to music. and when she sings while wearing headphones, she has NO IDEA how loud she really is and it just kills me. she is to be adored.

yay for sisters!

i get to see my oldest sister this weekend. hurrah! (that's not to say she's "old," but she's the first born, thus being the "oldest.")

today is one of those days where it will prove to be busy on a constant basis: lots of kiddo-related things going on in the next 24 hours that will keep me behind the wheel of a car pretty much all day today. but that is alright, because SHE ROCKS.

the teacher is going to handle the bully situation.
and that just makes life a little bit easier in these troubled times.

grrrrrrrr......

my daughter is very cool. she is very kind, sticks up for kids who are picked on even if she gets grief for it.

now my cool, sweet, sensitive kid has been sitting across from a bully in her homeroom. and she has to sit next to him at lunch. fucking assigned seats. this has been the umpteenth day that there have been waterworks on account of this little fucker.

so i've just bad-assed an email to her teacher asking that this be changed.

but if i catch sight of that little creep when i pick her up tomorrow... maybe i should wear a shirt that shows my mean lookin' tattoos.

fucking bullies.

i can't believe i forgot to post this!

this was another goodie i discovered for dust's birthday. kiddo is watching it right now (out of sheer fascination of that era, i think)and i made the comment, "so the next time you feel left out by your friends, just remember that at least you don't have to live in a bubble."

she stared at me for a moment, ate a tortilla chip, and went back to watching the movie.

i think i made an impression on her.

guess what came by mail today?

disc 1 of 2 arrived today...sigh....guilty pleasures.

Bible Lesson #1

[this is the beginning of a series of lessons gleaned from the book purchased for dustin, "the great bible question and answer book."]

What excuse did Adam and Eve make for eating the forbidden fruit?

When Adam and Eve heard the Lord walking in the garden that evening, they hid from Him. But God called to Adam, and asked what he had done. Adam blamed Eve: "The woman gave me the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, so I ate it."

What do we learn from this?

That even in the beginning, there was the same freakin' double standard there is now! BLAME THE GIRL!

Let's switch the roles...what do we think would have happened if ADAM had eaten the fruit?

Adam: Dude, I totally snagged a piece of fruit!
God: Righteous! *high fives Adam*

next lesson: Where did Jesus eat the Last Supper (and why wasn't it at the Olive Garden)?

statcounter: the good, the bad and the unnerving

i don't think i like statcounter anymore. sure, i like seeing how many hits i get, where they are from, etc. what i don't like is becoming obsessive about it and checking and re-checking how many times my blog has been linked to from a google search of a name.

a name that i have removed from my blog entries.

i can't control who sees my blog, that's the risk i took with putting it all out there for the world to see.
however i'm increasingly uneasy with my blog being linked to that name.

i should explain. a little.

a couple of years ago i was having a tough time. i go through that every few months, it's just a part of who i am. but things were pretty rough at one point and i decided that i was sick of keeping everything to myself, tired of being so fucking ashamed. so i put a name out there.

maybe i was, deep down, hoping it would reach out to other people who weren't old enough to say or do anything, like i was. unfortunately that was not the case.

now i've removed that name -- not because i'm ashamed -- but because i'm doing what i can to no longer associate this blog with that particular name.

however my blog can still be found with that name, and i'm not sure how to make that go away.

so this name which i wish -- more than anything in this fucking world -- i could forget (after it took so long to recall) is something i see EVERYTIME i check my statcounter.

so maybe it's time to bid a farewell to statcounter?

but is my blog HOT? is it? is it?

see links at right.
yep, i signed up to see if my blog is "hot or not." so you better not hurt my blog's feelings, or it'll have a guy named Guido after you.

oh, i'm THAT kind of a killer.

"Your style of killing is spur-of-the-moment killing. You use whatever you have on or near you to take the fucker out!"

what kind of a killer are YOU?

ahh, sweet sweet insomnia.

that's right... waking up pretty much every hour, on the damn hour.
so what's a girl to do? why not BLOG?

(*wipes eyes, sits for a moment, and realizes that she has nothing of interest to blog about.*)

crap.

fuck! i really AM evil!

You Are 76% Evil

You are very evil. And you're too evil to care. Those who love you probably also fear you. A lot.

How Evil Are You?