A Funny Thing Happened On The Road To Aunty Spinster's.

So I'm sure I might have mentioned that I'm looking for a roommate? Maybe once, or twice, or eleventy billion times.... Well, you know when you're forced in one way that is totally against the way you want for yourself, forced so forcefully that the pressure builds up until--finally--there is this little internal *plink* and something inside you snaps clean in two? Well, it's happened to me about 4 times in the last two months, but the most recent little snap was caused by what happened last night.

It's a really long and funny story, but you know, really long so I'll cut to the heart of it. My actual Landlord brought people over last night to look at the house. This is a change from my roommate search, as this time it required that all persons in said group would parade themselves through All The Rooms in the house. All. The. Rooms. Including my bedroom, which up till this point had been out of jurisdiction, so to speak.

So yeah, I didn't bother to clean it. It never occurred to me that I would need to. And I'm actually kinda glad I didn't. Because while they were in there opening my closet and doing laps around the room, my unmentionables were strewn across the bed in the exact position that I had left them that morning. And I'm not talkin' 'bout the pretty "for company" unmentionables. I can take the smallest amount of pleasure knowing as uncomfortable as I was for them to BE in my ROOM, I'm sure at least one of them was uncomfortable BEING in there.

As they were discussing the relative smallness of the closet, I can only imagine one of them thinking, "Jesus, well we know why the Bra is on the Queen-sized bed, it wouldn't fit in that tiny closet."

Practice

I never ever ever thought I would think this of you, but there it is: I hate you. You know who you are and you know what you did. I know you don't think that what you did was that bad, but it really was. It was that bad and worse. You made a complete fool out of me.

I knew you could be ambivalent, but now I know that you believe your actions have no consequences. So here's the consequence of what you did: I am not your friend. And you lost any future friendship we might have had. And it's really a shame, because I was your biggest advocate, I had your back, I believed you were a decent human being. Fuck you, for proving me wrong.

Ok, now that I've practiced, I might actually work up the nerve to tell you this in person.

Run Away, Bunny

When I was in 5th grade, two of my best friends and I started planning to run away. And by plan I mean we Planned. I had a notebook completely devoted to the idea. We would call each other every night, making lists.

Oh, the Lists! We were going to start squirreling away supplies, a little at a time so nothing would be missed. We had a route mapped so that we would still be able to go to school. Because school was very important, and our parents would be Very Mad if we missed any school. But it never occurred to us that we might be missed. That anybody would notice that we were gone.

Nearly everyone I know has thought about running away, and it's funny that this idea didn't occur to me until I was 10 rather than 5. And I'm sure it had everything to do with growing up, and not wanting to.

And then Junior High happened. We were all so shell shocked by the transition, and determined to Be More Mature, that we put away all those silly little elementary school ideas. And so The Notebook was put on a shelf in the back of the closet.

And now I'm 30, and that notebook is pulling at me something fierce. Because I have to be an adult, and I really don't want to.

When my roommate told me he needed to move out to help a good friend of his get back on her feet, it stressed me out. But I had No Idea how that stress would turn into Stress, would turn into STRESS, would turn into S-T-R-E-S-S. Would cause my hands to twitch so badly that I had to start a knitting project in order to protect the kitties from being rubbed so much they turned into those weird hairless cats. Or that not being able to say what I really really needed to say to the one person I needed to say it to, caused the exasperation to leave my body with such force, causing the magnetic poles to shift, resulting in the Universe spinning off it's axis, and we all fell over dead.

So yeah, blame me. I'm the reason we have to move to Mars. You know, after we're done being dead.

Aunty Spinster's Home For The Wayward, Part 1

I'm working on a new project. It's a sweater. But that's not the part that's important. What is important is that I'm at something of a crossroads. I guess you could say this all started one very normal-seeming night on August 3oth.

My roommate was getting home from a three-day trip to Colorado, during which he lost his keys. As it was 2 am he didn't want to wake me to unlock the door for him, and instead decided to break into the house through the kitchen window. Yeah, guess what? Noise coming from the kitchen at 2 am, when I knew I was the only one home? Totally woke me up. Anywho, after I called out and he announced his presence, I feel right back to sleep. Then it was morning and I got up to feed the cats.

Only Booger didn't come running to the sound of food tinkling into the food dish. Which I thought was a bit odd. But as my roommate's new girlfriend had slept over, I thought Booger was just weirded out by the strange person in the house. It was only after the two of them left for the day, and Booger still hadn't shown up, that I realized something was Terribly Wrong.

I'll just fast-forward a bit here, as it basically involves me Losing My Shit. And by that I mean freaking out, walking the neighborhood in my pajamas knocking on neighbors doors without a bra on, and then standing in middle of my living room crying and leaving repeated messages on peoples' cell phones (people I KNEW were at work, but at the time it made no difference).

I did manage to go to work, but I begged and threatened to go home early. Seeing as I was totally irrational and barely functioning, they let me. So I pull into my driveway, and see that the bowl of food I had left outside had not been touched. At all. And the tiny little scrap of control that I actually managed to hold onto all day was just gone.

There I am, standing in my driveway at 10 o'clock at night (hmmm, sound familiar ?), crying, and I say out loud, "You're never coming back, are you?"

And then...

...I hear...

a "mrwow"

That's what Booger says, "mrwow." Not "meow." Not anything close, just "mrwow"

ZOMFG! He had actually come home! And he came slinking out to me, and was all, "Sweet Baby Je'asus, Woman! Where in the He'all have you been!?" Get me back in that house!" Yes...just like that, in a Southern Accent.

And all was right in my world again.....At least until my roommate came home and told me he was moving out 6 months shy of the expiration of our lease.

To be Continued...

I Want A Refund

So, you know how things happen and time passes and you think, "I'll get to it later, too much going on right now." Yeah, well that's been this blog.

And I've started many posts, thinking that I'd get back to finish them and let you (all three of you) know what's been going on. Only something else would come up. Or something even more ridiculous would happen, and I'd think, "THIS is what I need to write about. THIS is way more interesting than THAT thing." But what it all really boils down to is this:

Dear Life,

You are stupid and mean, and I would like a refund for the last two months.

That is all, thank you,
Toots

With that said, here it goes....I'm going to hit on some of the "High Points" of the last two months. Please be prepared, it's going to get a bit bumpy.

Blah To The Blah

Today, I broke a plate. It was a leaf-shaped vintage plate. Today has been an annoyance since I woke up. Maybe even before I fell asleep.

I don't mean to sound like Debbie Downer, it's just that nearly the entire month of September sucked. And October started great, but I seem to have hit a snag.

My roommate decided to move out to help out a good friend of his, and he chose to break his lease. But really, it's me that had to deal with finding a new roommate. And I found one about three weeks ago, and now I have a slight tinge of nerves that he might not move in. Which blows seven ways to Sunday, 'cause he was the only person to see the house that seemed normal. So, please think good things for me that this guy moves in, it would be best for all involved.

The Blog That Time Forgot

Wow. Sometimes Life happens to ya, and it smacks ya right on your ass.

I got tagged.

Booger went missing. Booger came home!

My roommate is moving out.

Spent some time with Buckie, saw his first smiles.

Had first Auntie-and-Pickle Day.

New roommate moving in. After I clean the house top to bottom to remove all traces of the former (douche-bag) roommate.

And the Spiders! Oh God, THE SPIDERS!

All this and more to come....

Buckie Smiles

Everything Is Going To Be Alright

This photo was taken of the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit. It makes me sad, because before this photo...

...was this photo.

I like this better. It's one of my mantras. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright...

There has been a lot happening in my world, thus the neglected blog. Apologies.

So Glad To Finally Meet You

Another nephew! And I couldn't be happier. Buckie was a surprise, right up til the end. My brother and his wife were very sure he was going to be a girl, but I just knew it would be a boy. Although, I think he's more of a "Froggie"


Major kudos to my sister, who did the whole thing natural and gave birth to a 9 lb 20 in baby boy after only 5 hours of labor!

The Pull Of The Moon

Yesterday was one of those days when everything is just slightly off-kilter. I had an appointment that went less than smoothly. I went to work, and had to deal with being short-staffed.

And then I finally get home after a long long long day, and my Laurence Olivier collection had finally arrived UPS, and I'm so excited that something finally went right, and that was when LullaBelle decided to escape what she would call her "incarceration." Apparently, having someone feed you on a regular basis, provide you with many sunny window ledges in which to nap, and clean facilities just isn't worth it when that moon pulls to your baser animal side.

I saw her make a mad dash under my roommate's car, and I really couldn't see a damn thing, but I didn't want to go in the house to turn on a light as I was afraid she might take that as an opportunity to run into the street.

So there I am, at 11:30 pm, out in my dark driveway, nearly on my hands and knees pleading, "Please don't do this to me today, of all days, I just can't take any more today, just don't make this difficult for me!" When I hear this, "Uh, are you OK?"

Apparently, I was loud enough that my neighbor, who I've never actually met, heard me and thought I was having some sort of altercation in my driveway. It was super nice that he actually came over to make sure I was alright, I just felt like a total idiot when he saw me on the ground and I'm all, "Oh, yeah, my cat escaped. She's under the car, my cat is. She won't come out. She's really hard to see, but she's under there. Really." If it wasn't against ordinance, I imagine he'd be out first thing working on a privacy fence.

Sing it, Bob Geldof; "Tell me why I don’t like Mondays. I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down"

Had Retail, Now Need Therapy

Dear Old Navy,

May we talk? Just us girls? I don't mean to be rude, but your jeans...THEY ARE STUPID! Why on Earth would you take perfectly normal descriptive labels and exchange them for totally cryptic and meaningless words? Relaxed boot-cut, I know exactly what that means. The Dreamer? WTF?!?

I am neither a 'Diva,' a 'Flirt,' nor a 'Skinny-assed Bitch.' Not only did I purchase a pair of jeans called, 'The Boyfriend,' but also one called 'The Diva.'

{Which, may we stop here and just address how ridiculous idea of 'Boyfriend Jeans' is --I would NEVER wear my boyfriend's jeans. Because my boyfriend is taller and, um, not 'curvy,' and that's the way it is supposed to be. Boys have junk in the front, I have junk in the trunk. There IS a difference.}

Now to 'The Diva,' which also happened to be 3 SIZES BIGGER than the pants I wore INTO the dressing room! This does not make me feel like a Diva. Unless you mean 'Diva' in the Opera Singer kind of way. Then yes, I do feel like a very large woman wailing in hysterics.

Now look what you made me do, Old Navy. You made me say hurtful things about Opera. Now I need to write Opera a letter of apology.

I try to tell myself that it's just a number, but I know the first time I wear them in public I'll imagine my thighs rubbing together in rhythm to "fat.ass.fat.ass." Which is sure to earn 'The Diva' a permanent spot in my closet.

I hate to say it, but your cheap prices may not be enough to heal the hurt I feel.

And now I sound like a country song, It never ends with you, Old Navy!

Call Me Stigmatized

Over the last two years, I've been subjected to two bridal showers, two bachelorette parties, two weddings, and two baby showers. And at each one of them I had a moment where Four-Year-Old-Me is sitting in a chair kicking her feet and watching someone I'm related to open presents, and thinking "Aww, why don't I get PRESENTS!? I want presents!"

What a scam. Find yourself a man, throw yourself a party and you get cool free shit that YOU PICK OUT FOR YOURSELF. C'mon, who's idea was the Gift Registry anyway? "Here are the things I want, if you bring them to this place, at this time, I'll be waiting. Oh, and I might feed you some cold cuts and that weird ambrosia salad Aunt Mable makes. You know, the one with fruit AND cottage cheese. No, really, it's delicious. I'm not sure why it's that color."

And then you get knocked up, and you get to throw yourself another party where you get super cute stuff for a human that no body's even met yet. "I mean, I'm not sayin' your baby is gonna be an asshole, but I got you the kid-cage complete with leash--the sales' person called it a 'pack-n-play'--cause you just never know. Am I right? Huh? Wink, wink."

Well, I had myself a little brainstorm; Cut out the middleman (fiance, baby), and you can get cool free shit you pick out for YOURSELF, that you can actually use YOURSELF. I think I might just throw myself a Spinster Party. What better excuse for a party could there be? "I can barely keep a house plant alive, much less find a husband and hope to bring a child into this world, I NEED those dryer balls because the idea of soft, fluffy towels is the only thing I've got to look forward to."

Google the term and you get a mixed bag. From Wikipedia--"Until the advent of feminism, spinsterhood was generally portrayed as a condition to be pitied or mocked" Huh. You know all the mean stuff people say about couples, what they would say about a single couldn't be much worse. Mock me all you want, as long as I get the booty.

Obviously, I'm not the first to have thought of the idea, as there is no such thing as an "original idea," but I think I might just start a movement. I'm planning on registering at Target and JoAnn Fabrics for things like cat food and yarn. And did you know Barnes & Noble has online wishlists!? Perfect! 'Cause after throwing yourself a "Spinster Shower" you now have an image to maintain.

Bump That is Buckie

A week ago was my sister's baby shower, where this picture was taken. Everybody, meet Buckie.

She was visiting this weekend, and it will probably be the last time I'll see her pregnant.

And I was just getting used to the bump.

Could This Day Get Any Better?!

The hits just keep on coming! Not only am I on vacation for the next 4 days (during which I get to see my parents and spend time with Pickle and the Bump that is Buckie (aka my Sister)), but my landlord just called to inform me that the house is no longer on the market. Which means....

THERE WILL BE NO MORE SHOWINGS OF THE HOUSE!

No more strangers walking through my stuff. Yippeee! My landlord also informed me that if, however, I still wanted to buy the house, I could make an offer. Or, if me and my roommate would like to get married and decided to buy the house together, he'd pay the down payment as a wedding present.

Yes.

He actually said that to me.

I don't know how long it's been since I've laughed that hard.

All Day Review

I've just had my third meeting of the day. All in regards to my annual review. And the only way three meetings over your review could be bearable, is if all of them were positive. I may dislike this job, but man, do I love this company!

The first meeting went something like this: "Your performance is Excellent. You do great work. But maybe you should work on getting to the office before 10:30am."

The second meeting was after my supervisor meet with the HR guy, who apparently loves me, and it went a little something like this: "The HR guy says since you show up on a fairly regular basis, and complete projects by deadline, you deserve Excellent on this point as well. Also, what can we do to make your stay more enjoyable?"

And the final meeting was to discuss the eventual end of my employment. I use "eventual" very loosely, as I was hired on a 12 month contract and have worked at this place for over 4 Years: "So you've worked here 4 years, and are planning on starting Grad school in a completely unrelated field, how about just one more year with us? I'll try to get you a nice, big raise."

Thank you, that would be lovely.

The "Joy" of an Open House

I signed a lease for a house in March, if you all recall. This particular house is for sale. Every time I drop off my rent, my landlord tries to convince me to buy the house. I'd be tempted, if the house didn't need SO MUCH WORK.

Now, the situation I find myself in is better than the situation I left. My bills are way lower, my roommate (while not the ideal) is not a psychopath and we get along, the neighborhood is great and I live close to friends.

The complete and total, soul-sucking downside of this house is that at least once a month, some group of strangers walks through my space. That means I've had strangers looking at my stuff and judging. Because that is why they are there, to look at this house that I live in and decide if they themselves could live there. Judging. It's like a miasma that hangs in every room. Ok, so maybe that's a little dramatic. But, really? Who in their right mind just invites random people in to look at their shit.

Plus, after every one of these showings, I'm so nervous that something might have happened to the cats.

And my landlord just doesn't understand how mentally disruptive this "minor inconvenience" is. He just wants to sell the house. But here's the catch--I wonder if any of the Realtors that have been through the house have told their clients, up front, that the house is occupied and will continue to be occupied until February 28, 2010.

I'm just scared the closer that date looms, the more showings there will be. Damn! I can't believe I'm being forced to think about moving again, after only 3 months!

A Beautiful Day

After a day like today, I just might be a little inspired....

uninspired

When I was in high school, I just couldn't wait to get out of that small town I grew up in. I used to have this joke that once I left, I'd either come back a famous scientist, or I'd come back and live in a trailer on my parents back forty.

One extreme or the other, no such thing as a happy medium existed for me. I was going to be a total sucess, or I was going to be a total failure. No grand plan or anything, just Succed or Fail.

And this past week it hit me; My life is Average. And I just couldn't bear it. To be Ordinary. Ugh. How did I let myself come to this.

I haven't had much to say lately, because I've had a problem communicating to myself.

Time and space does a lot of good for a lot of things. So, please don't take offense if I ask it of you.

"Pin a smile on my face." "Build a fortress 'round my heart."

Ikea, I Wish I Could Quit You...

I have the entire weekend off. I, the person who works All The Time, have two whole days off-In A Row-and have absolutely nothing planned except to visit with my mom at some point. This is what a real weekend is? Normal people have these all the time? This is glorious! So, just how exactly do you think I spent the first 4 hours of my whole weekend off?

Standing in line.

Yes, I stood in line at Ikea, for over 4 Hours. To buy bookshelves. Because they were on sale and I am cheap. Now, I got there early, I thought, and there was already a line around the building. To buy bookshelves and chairs. To be precise, Expedit bookshelves for $49, and a Poang chair for $39. They really were a good deal, I mean that's at least $40 off each item. But I'm justifying....

And after about 20 minutes in the full morning sun, my pale, pale arms glowing like two welcoming beacons, signaling new arrivals, I thought "Eff this, what the H-E-double hockey sticks am I doing wasting this day?"

But I had moved about ten feet. There were now People Behind Me. I was no longer the Last In Line. And even though I didn't realized it then, I was committed. I was getting that damn bookshelf and that damn chair. There were a few tense moments, like when an employee shouted from the ticket booth, "Only 175 chairs left, and 200 bookshelves!" and there were still a lot of people ahead of me. There were awkward moments, like standing in the full sun at 11:45 am and a single drop of sweat rolled down my cleavage. Or when I was jammed in line between two very chatty old broads, one who decorated for weddings and thought I'd care to know how she would use every single vase in an arraignment, and one who had a greenhouse and insisted I'd be very happy with an orchid, I really should get the orchid, really they're very lovely on an Eastern-facing window sill.

So, 4 hours later, I'm wheeling my little cart stacked with my loot, thinking, "really? was this really worth it?" I get that freakin' heavy bookshelf back to my house, out of my car, and set up in my room. It may not be much, but I think that damn orchid does look lovely. And the bookshelves are already packed.

FoTC

I might be a fan, but whoever put this together is an F.A.N.

That Monday Smell

For maybe the fifth day in a row, I woke up at 6:30. In The AM! As this was not the time my alarm was set to go off, I went back to sleep. And, same as it was for the last few days, when my alarm did go off I had a really hard time getting out of bed. So I snoozed.

But today was just slightly different, in that what finally got me out of bed was a very peculiar odor. Investigation lead me to Louie, who was curled up on my chest. She smelled like a very large man had rubbed his ass all over her. It was less than lovely.

Her paws were wet, and that's where the smell was coming from. So now, every one of the wet little paw prints she left on my comforter smells like ass. Now I'm tired, mad, and off to investigate.

I found the source of the ass smell. And at this point, I'm just going to remind everybody that I live with a Boy, not a boy I'm dating, not even a boy I'm friends with, just a Boy. And this Boy had left an Open Can Of Chicken On The Counter All Night. Is there anything more disgusting than canned Chicken!? Yes. Yes, there is--12 hour old canned chicken juice.

One the one hand, my cats are just well-behaved enough that they know better than to jump on the kitchen counter. My good little Booger, didn't touch the tempting rancid chicken juice. But Louie, she's got a little rebellious streak.

Shameless Plug

When Pickle gets tired, tired enough that he thinks he's NOT tired anymore, I bundle him up and sing him this song, Lullaby Letgo by Katie Johnston. This song has worked nearly every time he's been fussy about taking a nap.

Katie is one of the most kind and unique souls I've met, and I just have to share her with all of you. Check out her myspace, and give the songs a listen. You won't regret it.

And then, when he gets up and he's a little cranky, we do the "Mahna Mahna" dance. Giggles garaunteed.

I Miss You, So Unbelievably Much

Grandma,

I have to start out by saying, I really really really miss you. I wish you were here, because our family needs you very much right now. I don't think there is anyone who could sort out this mess like you could. And even though some things are the same, some things are very different.

There are things that even after 10 years, I remember like they happened last week. Those Saturday mornings I spent cleaning and putting rollers in your hair. (And I don't feel guilty for telling the internets, 'cause that was something you would tell your friends anyway.) "Oh? My hair looks nice? Thank you, my Granddaughter did it for me." You'd say it with such pride. And I FELT proud. Of course I would curl your hair. Of course I would help you clean the house. And for payment, I would get stories. I would get art lessons. I would get the whole afternoon to try on your fabulous jewelry.

I can't tell you how much I cherish the gift of your Crafty-ness. When I'm working on a gift for someone, I imagine you taking the work, and scanning every inch of it with your eyes and your hands, making sure it's perfect. If I think it would pass your inspection, then away it goes. If not, then over it starts.

There is a new great-grandbaby with cheeks to kiss. My nephew, the child of Your Number One Grandson is as amazing as anyone could have imagined him to be. And there is another one on the way, as Gibby is due in early August. But then, you already knew that. There's not one bit of baby news that would get by you!

The house is still there, but it doesn't mean what it used to. When I'm at my Mom and Dad's, I try not to look at it, but it's still there. It makes me miss your apple crisp. It makes me miss your home-made bread. It makes me miss the time when I thought everybody in our family liked each other. Now, some of them just want to hurt the others. I wish you could put a stop to that.

Well anyway, I know how much you love getting letters. I just wish you were still here to get this one in person. And I know I said that I'd have a really hard time if I ever saw you again. You know, cause it would be a little scary for me. But I think I changed my mind.

Love. This.

Louie The Mighty

Last night there was yet another spider in my room. This was a fortunate spider, he was out of my reach to smoosh. I was a little bit freaked out to go to sleep knowing that it was lurking on my ceiling. Just out of reach, waiting for me to go to sleep so that it could walk all over parts of my uncovered body. When I began to imagine him doing some eight-legged version of Fosse, I realized I might never get to sleep. Then I saw LulaBelle out of the corner of my eye.

She was perfectly still, and I knew she had spotted the vermin. She scaled a stack of boxes, and stood up on her hind legs reaching as far as she could, and she SMACKED that arachnid! My little defender!

The Week In Review, A Post In Progress

This past week was a fairly eventful one for me. I got to see my sister's Bump. Baby Buckie even obliged by punching his little fist/foot hard enough that I could see the movement. I like to think he was waving "Hi, can't wait to meet you!"

Then I was lucky enough to meet, Live and In Person, an author I admire. The Fabulous Jen Lancaster.

And of course, there was More Pickle. We danced, he made me giggle, I made him giggle, much giggling all around.

This is a post in progress.

Things Are Looking Up

Yay Yay Yay! I opended hulu today, to see that "Green Wing" is now available to watch! I found this show about two years ago watching BBCAmerica. It is so GD funny I can't even stand it!

One commenter put it perfectly-"Imagine if 'Scrubs' and 'It's Always Sunny in Philadephia had a child..." Yes, exactly that.

So with that, and a much-needed trip to the Farm this weekend(for the Urban Detox), I'd say things are looking up. And it didn't even take a talking stove (if you don't know FoTC, you won't get that).

"I Got Hurt Feelings, I Got Hurt Feelings"

I've mentioned Flight of the Conchords a time or two here, and I found this fan-piece on YouTube which sums it all up pretty well.

It does me good to remember that things get bad, and then you laugh. Such is life.

Ctrl-Alt-Del in a Big Way

The New York Times has an article on it's website today, about Flint, MI. Click here to read the entire article with photos.

Basically, the Genesee County treasurer is proposing to condense the size of the city, by demolishing abandoned and nearly-abandoned neighborhoods and letting the land sit vacant until things turn around.

I read the headline with shock and disbelief.

I read the article with shock and hope.

Residents who still inhabit some of the houses in these neighborhoods have posted signs announcing no tolerance for prostitution. "A lot of people remember the past, when we were a successful city that others looked to as a model, and they hope. But you can't base government policy on hope," said Flint's city council president, Jim Ananich. "We have to do something drastic, and we have to do it soon."

I think this man, who grew up in the city of Flint and has stayed and is now working in a Civil occupation, is taking a very brave and innovative step. Eliminating blight goes a long way in lifting the spirits of a community. Not to mention the money the city would save on services from trash pick-up, to sewer line maintenance, to the need for less police and fire. But he's talking ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOODS. Not just individual houses.

Now, don't misunderstand, I'm not that idealistic to think that IF this plan gains popularity, it will be a panacea for urban blight and declining cities. And I'm not a homeowner, so to be asked to leave the house you chose to buy, that you worked to make a home, that is something I couldn't even begin to fathom. But this is an opportunity that most cities never get. To start over, to hopefully learn from past mistakes, and to become a model of truly conscious planning. If this is done well, it could become the new model for post-industrial cities. A way cities with crumbling neighborhoods, decaying factories, and near-empty streets can find new purpose and pride.

A sort of Ctr-Alt-Del, if you will.

Having experience in Urban Planning, I can only begin to imagine the scope of this project. And selfishly, I've already started to apply these concepts to Detroit. (Not that the Detroit City Council would ever be that forward-thinking, but that's another story.) And my conclusion; It's just THAT crazy, it might actually work.

My New Motto

Browsing Snorg Tees, I found this gem. I think I need this shirt. I think I need this on letterhead.

The Infestation, Year 2

Can you call two spiders an Infestation? Hell yes.

I found the second spider of the season in the new house the other morning. It was a different variety than the first. Which I found about two weeks ago in the cats' food dish. That one was an outdoor variety, something lime green with a white belly. And it makes some sense, as the cat dish is directly under the kitchen window. Which had been open the night before I found the creature. So I'm betting that's when he crawled in.

This new one was very small and mottled brown. And super fast. Too quick to smoosh. Not sure what exact variety it was, but give me a little time and I'm sure I'll have a name for this one as well. Out of necessity, I'm starting to become an expert on spiders.

Then, earlier this week I was at the Dreamboat's house and there was a spider on the underside of the toilet bowl. It must be that I'm developing some kind of "spider sense," because I NEVER look UNDER the toilet bowl. But it was there, and I saw it, and it was late, and I was tired....

...And I screamed.

I'm normally not a screamer, but it was a Big One. And the cutest thing was, the Dreamboat, he totally come running to make sure I was OK. Even in his weakened and nearly broken state, he smooshed and flushed the spider.

He is now the Official Spider Smoosher. He's on my speed dial.

It's Been Too Long....

...So you get Double Pickle

The gherkin is no match for his two teeth! And since he was Down On The Farm, he had to wear his bibs.

An Heir and A Spare

This morning I opened my email to find pictures my sister sent me of her growing Bump. It put a smile on my face, and my day couldn't have started any better.

So next August, there will be another baby in the family. And not to be outdone, my Sister's Bundle is expected to arrive Nearly One Year To The Day Pickle was born. Only this little Buckie was actually planned for to avoid conflict with......this is so good.......HUNTING SEASON!

So, with two weddings in one year, followed by two bebes in one year, I am so off the hook. I figure I've got about 4 years before my mom starts to bug be about this stuff again.

Hunky Monkey Had a Great Fall

It seems that this week, the week of disasters, nobody will be spared. My Hunky Monkey is laid up with a fairly serious injury. Techincally it's wasn't a great fall, it was more of a great strain. But the result is the poor guy can't really move around.

I spent last night helping out with the dog, getting him dinner, and just generally taking care of things. And aside from the consistent moaning, he's pretty easy to take care of. But I'm saving this favor up, and will be totally calling it in one day.

Letter To A Bitch (Please forgive the snark, I'm a little pissed off)

Dearest Former Land"Lady,"

I understand that the house I have lived in for the past year was the first home you ever owned, and that you loved it dearly. The fact of the matter is that you, out of whatever circumstances (you civil-unioned your longtime partner on a cruise off the coast of Canada, and the both of you decided to call her house "home"), decided to rent it out.

My roommate and I took care of your house. We had no wild and crazy parties in your house. We put up with a very scary spider infestation, and dealt with the lingering smell of your three large dogs. Not to mention the neighbor's delinquent son I once caught punching his own house.

So when you tell me that my two small cats caused $600 worth of damage, please forgive my disbelief. I understand that you are not a "cat person" (which if you REALLY think about it, is not a tiny bit ironic). And rather than call and have me remedy this situation a week ago (as technically today is the last day of the lease, so a week ago the house was still my residence), you decided to bring in a company (I'll assume it was the company your friend owns) to "fix" this "problem."

Also, it was very gracious of you NOT to charge us for the damage caused by the Ice and the Snow. I apologize for not informing you of the damage as it was being inflicted. To be unaware of the weight of the Ice and Snow warping the paving stones is Unforgivable.

I could go on, but really, I'm just not a nit-picky kind of person, as you can totally relate. I hope your next tenants truly reflect the Renter demographic of my former City of Residence.

Good Riddance,
Toots

My Life Is A Country Song

The first three days of this week have been as near to disastrous as one can have in my fairly sheltered, I-got-Peeps-lookin-out-for-me world. Don't quite understand what I'm getting at? Here are a few examples.

Sunday I expected to actually have the house to myself for the evening, so that I could clean and unpack. But for the first time in a week my roommate was home the same time as I was. And I didn't get to unpack in solitude. And we actually had a conversation. And actually got to know each other a little better. Yeah, what a downer, right?

Then last night I wasn't planning on going to The Babe's house, as I had worked all day. But when I talked to him after work, he said he was tired too, and that maybe we should both just stay at our respective houses. And even though I didn't want to go to his house, even though I wanted to stay with my Kitties--him saying 'don't come over,' just turned me into this bratty little five year old and all I wanted to do was go to my friend's house and why couldn't I just come over? Most of the time, we stay up so late talking that we're both exhausted. And yes, I actually do mean talking. So, bummer, I actually got some sleep last night, woke up well-rested and was early for my meeting the next day.

Which brings us to this morning, wherein the ATM machine ate my card. Cause it was all gnarly and bent. So I got on my cell phone and called my credit union, told them my sob story about the mean ol' ATM, and they are working on fixing this monumental obstacle that is in the path of my life's journey. (Little too much?) Boo-hoo me, now I have to actually pay cash for things, and I might even save a bit on gas.

As my Sis says, there's rarely a shortage of drama in my life. Cause Sweet Baby Jesus knows, I can make even a trip to the cash machine a major event.

Please Hold While...I Punch You In The Neck

Just called to switch over some utility service for the new house, and spent a good 10 minutes being MIS-directed by the automated menus. Yeah, fine whatever, you're switching to "something" that will eventually make "something" better. Whatever. Right now, I just want to drive down to Indiana and punch you in the neck.

Also, once I give up trying to navigate said menus and request to speak to a Person (who turned out to be very Pleasant and Helpful), please do not require this very nice and competent person to direct me, yet again, to another "helpful" service menu. One, I might add, that is the new, "more convenient" kind that makes you speak out your selections. Now everyone in my office thinks I'm some kind of nutter that shouts out random words for no apparent reason. This just wiped away previous gratitude I had for the operator.

Hmmm, the protein smoothie I had for lunch may have had a dash of rage in it.

Baby Mama Drama

Yesterday my new roommate and I were at the house, at the same time, for more than 5 minutes. Which means I actually talked to the guy. Turns out that boy has some serious Drama going on. Involving a Baby Mama. A situation that is way too convoluted, and personal to him, for me to write about here. (Meet me for coffee and I'll tell ya the whole thing) (Just kidding) (......Maybe)

So I woke up this morning thinking that I may have actually used the term "Baby Mama drama" during a phone conversation with Rampcommander. But just moments ago I received an email from The Brit, and I so totally feel better. I'll just quote it directly:

"What are you up to this week? anything exciting? I think we should totally hit downtown Ferndale this weekend, make our mark on your new hood (lol can you believe an english girl just used the word hood? crazy)"

No, no I cannot believe you just used the word "hood." Oh, and your gratuitous use of "lol" excuses my gratuitous use of the word "Peeps."

Today Must Be Youtube Thursday

One more thing, The Brit sent me this through Facebook. Ah, those Brits.... They sure do have a lot of time on their hands.

I Would Say I'm a Jemainiac

This is the next thing from Jemaine of Flight of the Conchords. I love it. It's a spoof of a Sci Fi writer, and it's just brilliant.

"Let me irrigate your barren earth with fresh cream."



I'm counting the days till I get to see them live and in person!

Oh. My. Jesus.

I was speechless after I watched this. Absolutely gobsmacked. This is what Real Live Magic feels like.

Watch it, and I promise you, you will get an amazing piece of Happy back in your heart.

First, You Start With a Crabby Patty....

So, with everything going on with me lately, I've been at a loss about what exactly I should write about. Then The Brit made this post, and I feel it may be time for some sort of virtual intervention.

SNAP OUTTAV IT! (hear it with a heavy New Jersey accent)

Nobody has it together when they are in their 20's. They may think that they do, but they really, really don't. I still don't have it together, and I've got a few years on ya. Make a plan, don't make a plan, none if it really matters if you continue to be so hard on yourself.

I find that if you set the bar very low, it's easy to win small victories. Such as, I found my knitting needles today. In the chaos that is the new house, I found the one thing that will contribute most to my procrastinating unpacking. And I couldn't be more ecstatic!

And most importantly, no matter what it is that you decide to do, you got Peeps. Never forget that you got Peeps.

Moving in Nine Bruises Or Less

The Move, it is almost Finished! I thought it would never be over, but it nearly is. Thank Baby Jesus.

I just don't feel ready to talk about this experience yet. I may never be ready. All I know is my Bro is helping me move the last of the big furniture (aka, my amazing bed) out of the old house, and into the Dreamboat's house. Because it will not fit into the new place. But at least I can go and visit it.

For the moment, the cats have only emerged from under the bed for very brief moments when I sing to them. Which somewhat illustrates their state of mind(s). You would know what this means if you've ever heard me sing.

Random Friday

Twitter; Know It, Use It, Love It.

What follows is a totally random collection of things from Twitter and Facebook that I've found today. I'm not even going to post about the Stewart v. Cramer fiasco (funny, but oh so over-exposed). Here's some other stuff.

Puppy Love
This Little Puppy tweets. I don't know much about the situation, but this little dog has only about a month to live. It appears as if she has lived a very full and happy life, but her final wish is to have 1,000 followers on Twitter. I think I became #634 earlier today. It's so adorable, I cried a little.

Elmo Loves Ricky
But then this, posted on Facebook made me laugh again. Thanks K.
Sorry that I cannot imbed it at this time, hopefully later. It is Ricky Gervaise talking to Elmo. Things get a little out of hand. But I guess that's what you get when you put a puppet and a British Comedian on set together.

This Is One Kind Of Onion I Could Love
So, in case you missed it, I've been moving recently. I found a VHS copy of "The Princess Bride," and I just can't bring myself to get rid of it. Then The Onion posted this article, and now I know I'll never be able to get rid of it. It's a short article, so I'll just copy it.

Area Dad Botches 'Princess Bride' Quote
March 13, 2009 Issue 45•11

LIVONIA, NY—Mere hours after watching Rob Reiner's classic 1987 film The Princess Bride with his children, area father William Loomis badly botched some of the most familiar lines from the movie, sources reported Monday. "My friend Laura came over and my dad greeted her at the door by saying, 'Hello. I am Diego Montoya. You killed my father. Now you will die,'" said Loomis' 17-year-old daughter Erica. "Then at dinner he started waving his wine glass and yelling, 'irreconcilable!' over and over again in this sort of Elmer Fudd voice. That's not even the right speech impediment." Loomis has a history of bungling well-known cultural references, most notably in 1985 when he spent all summer asking family members, "Where's the meat?"

I can never remember quotes from movies, and I'm always asking, "What is that from?" But 'The Princess Bride' is the only movie I can quote. Apparently its the only movie Nearly Everybody in America can quote.

Let Them Eat Cake

You know you're stressed out when you charge tickets for a play on Saturday, and by Monday you've forgotten that you even went to the theater, and freak out because there is a charge on your account, and you're sure you didn't make it.

And then you call your credit union to cancel the card, because the last thing you need is somebody trying to take what little money you have left after paying the ridiculous amount of bills you paid last week. Because you thought a good idea to reduce the stress of a move would be to overlap leases, and are paying rent for two houses. Yeah, that worked out real well.

Turns out I was stealing my own identity. Now if that's not a cry for things needin' a change, I just don't know what is.... Or I could fall back to the ol' standby and blame everything on the Time Change.

iPod Lurve

Turn on your ipod, set it to shuffle. What are the first 10 songs that play? Jen Lancaster posted something similar, and as I'm going to see her sweat Sauvignon Blanc in person, I felt it would be OK to consider myself tagged. And now so are you....tagged.

Mine:

1. A Forest - Nouvelle Vague
2. Move Away - The Killers
3. All Ears - Whitest Boy Alive
4. Talking Shit About A Pretty Sunset - Modest Mouse
5. Foux Du Fafa - Flight of the Conchords
6. If Only - The Kooks
7. First Love - Adele
8. Lover, You Should Have Come Over - Jeff Buckley
9. Gravity - The Dresden Dolls
10. Pioneer to the Falls - Interpol

Wow, that was an incredibly Hipster list. I'm really not that cool. My ipod must have known how important this was for me, to impress you all with my musical tastes. It makes me love it that much more.

Again, This Is Why I Heart Him...

Paul Krugman again. He posted this:

In his CPAC speech, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell insisted that conservatives are more “interesting” and “fun” than liberals. Here’s his proof: “who wants to hang out with guys like Paul Krugman and Robert Reich when you can be with Rush Limbaugh?”

I mean, it's.....it's just so funny. If you hung out with Rush Limbaugh, do you think he'd even let you speak?

Tripin'

Ok, so I'm back from the Ego Trip I was on yesterday.

I think my daily vitamin was switched with a Self-Importance pill.

Apologies.

Susan B. Anderson

I picked up a book about a year ago. All about Knit Hats, mostly for babies. It caught my attention for two reasons; Pickle was due to arrive, and I wanted to learn a new knitty trick. I thought hats would be a good place to start.

I was right, hats were a good place to start. This book is great, with easy to understand instructions. Her blog is also a lot of fun. Quirky and informative, and not as self-obsessed as some blogs out there. Not that I would know anything about that....

Maven

Apparently, I'm somewhat of a Maven, according to Malcolm Gladwell and his book "The Tipping Point." What is a "Maven," you ask? Well, "those who are intense gatherers of information and impressions, and so are often the first to pick up on new or nascent trends." Not to toot my own horn or anything....

Except, I'm a Maven that hardly anybody takes seriously. The Dreamboat loaded this music video on my laptop a few months ago. Great concept, really interesting and visual story, and the music was pretty catchy. Yeah, Babe, remember when I played this EXACT SAME SONG on your stereo, oh maybe 7 MONTHS AGO.

Or, how about this band, Kings Of Leon. Ever heard of them? Yeah, friends and co-workers, that's right. I was telling you about them 4 YEARS AGO.

And Knitting? Yeah, it's cool again. I could have told you that 2 YEARS AGO.

So, here and now, I'm going to start posting THINGS YOU NEED TO PAY ATTENTION TO. That's the new tag. Because Red is the New Black is the New Pink? I was so totally there before you were.

Terror Tuesday

I was really hesitant to post this, as being a potential bunny-killer is not something you should bandy about. But, it is my life and this is my blog so here it is.

I stayed over and slept late. If I had not stayed over, or if I had gotten out of bed when I was supposed to, the following would not have taken place.

Since I was the last to leave, I let the dog out. She was good for a bit, then she started barking. Turns out a bunny had crawled into a flower bed and was trapped behind a fence. So the dog is chasing it, but can't get to it. But then she found the hole in the fence and busted through to corner the bunny. So this Mighty Black Labrador Hunter has the prey cornered, and she's a little confused about exactly what is supposed to happen next. I used this as my opportunity to grab the scruff of her neck.

She went with me perfectly willingly into the house. But by this time the BunBun was so tweaked, it was sprawled out in the snow, in shock. With the dog in the house, I went back to check on it. And, I shouldn't be typing this, but I may have poked it with a stick to see if it was alive. It looked at me like, "Really? Like I haven't been through ENOUGH shit today."

The adorable lab is completely blameless in this situation, as she was running on instinct. I was able to restrain her quite easily, and this just proves how she is a Very Well Behaved Dog. The new human in her life, unfortunately, apparently has nothing resembling an "instinct" and this morning very nearly Lost Her Shit worrying about the life or death struggle of a garden pest.

This Should Have Been Post No. 1

Somebody Tagged me through Facebook with the “25 Random Things,” And I thought it might be fun to post them here. Also, aside from the moving/packing posts, I was kinda running out of material.

So, here they are in no particular order….Ok, that is totally a lie, I cut and pasted the shit out of this list.

1. I lived in the same house for 19 years. My parents still live there and I will always consider it Home. They are not allowed to move. Ever.

2. Skiing, both downhill and cross country, is the only sport I’m any good at.

3. It took 29 years for me to meet the man who is the same level of neurotic as me. I have learned this is Essential in a relationship because this way, nobody has to be the Big Crazy.

4. My love for chocolate boarders on the scary.

5. I grew up with dogs, but never considered myself a “dog person” until I met a sweet lab named Sophie, then one named Molly, a mutt named Ronald, one crazy doofus named Duke (although, I'm pretty sure he's part moose), and most recently an adorable Bella.

6. I am completely in love with my nephew, and I feel so fortunate to live close enough to be a part of his life.

7. I developed early, but bloomed late.

8. I like the BBC better than American radio.

9. My Sister and I weren't as close when we were younger. This is mostly my fault, thinking I was the “cooler” older sister. Our relationship changed for the better when she called and said she had an extra ticket to a Dave Matthews concert.

10. I am a scary creature of habit. Sometimes I like to mix it up, though, and get a mocha with caramel instead of just a plain ol’ mocha. I be crazy like that.

11. I read SciFi.

12. I don’t like Ohio.

13. My Brother is the most solid person I know. He doesn't know this, but his phone calls helped me get through college.

14. I had Unfortunate Perm Years.

15. My Bro, my Sister and I have names that start with the same initial. I love it, and plan to do the same to my kids.

16. My cats have helped me cope with more sad days than I can count.

17. The longest I ever lived with the same person, other than family, was 4½ years. Then Ohio took her away. This is why I have issues with Ohio.

18. When I moved to Metro Detroit, I got a job within 10 days working at a bookstore. This was the best thing I ever did, as some of my co-workers have turned into some of my dearest friends. Including the person I talk to Nearly Every Day on the phone. Then Ohio took her away, too. Stupid Ohio.

19. I tell a story like my mom, very long and with way too many details.

20. I believe Monsters exist, and not all of them are cute like Elmo.

21. I love Green.

22. My Grandma shared her talent with me, and I’m so grateful for that. Also, she told me the secret ingredient to her delicious home-made bread.

23. I adored my AP English teacher in High School. His belief in my ability to write inspired me not to quit. My first book is so totally going to be dedicated to him. Also, thanks to him, I can still quote “Hamlet.”

24. In elementary school, I wore Shiny Purple Spandex Capri pants with a Bright Yellow T-shirt…and thought I was Hot Shit. Because I had a friend who would wear HER Shiny Blue Spandex Capri pants with her matching Bright Yellow T-shirt.

25. The two people on this planet who know The Most about me are my Brother and my Sister. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you read the entire list, consider yourself Tagged. Make your list, send me the link.
Do It To It, Chickies.

Oh Great Geekness!

I swear to Stan Lee, I just saw Sam Raimi driving a mini van Downtown. I was sooo close to his slowly moving vehicle that I could almost read from the sheet of paper he was holding in his hand. I can only assume that he was scouting locations for his next movie. Because he couldn't possibly have any other reason to be in Detroit. You know, having grown up in the Posh 'Burbs and all.

Edit: I now realize that I just saw TED Raimi. There is no difference.

Brief Glimps Into My Head, Moving Edition

If you've been paying attention (or, let's be honest, if you give a rat's patoot), I am going to be moving in few weeks. In preparation, I have been going through my crap, sorting and purging.

I've learned a little bit about myself doing this. First and foremost, I have too much shit. A lot of it doesn't take up a lot of space, individually speaking. Which has, to this point, been the primary rationalization for Not Throwing It Out. But when you pile a whole bunch of small things together, they will make a mountain. Or a fort. Depending how much time you have on your hands, and how desperate you are to avoid sorting.

Then I opened a box, and found I have credit card statements going back about 7 years. For accounts that no longer exist. And let's not forget to mention the other box I opened last week, that had remained UNOPENED for nearly 8 years. This particular box moved with me 4 times, Without Ever Being Opened. Let's just let that sink in, shall we.

Upon further analysis, I've concluded that the majority of my crap is composed of four primary elements;
Paper (old bills, paperwork, notes, books--many, many books)
Fabric (yarn, yarn, and more yarn, clothes, blankets)
Glass (candle holders, vases, other decorative accouterments)
Plastic (sad to say this is mostly in the form of toys).

I would estimate the collective composition of my crap to be 50% Paper, 35% Fabric, 10% Glass and 5% Plastic. (In case you were wondering, Yes, my day job has been heavy into the data analysis lately. But let's also not forget that I am the Queen of Obsessive Thinking as well as a Master Level Procrastinator. And if I had a visual, I would provide it. But that would just be too much, even for me. I mean, seriously, who charts out clutter in Excel, whether by Bar Graph, Pie Chart, or Line Graph to determine the most visually appealing way to explain said clutter? Certainly not I.)

In conclusion, my only course of action is to Eliminate Useless Crap. I am calling this Operation EUC (pronounced Eyuck, which is pretty much how I feel about this activity). I hate throwing things out. I think I have Pack Rat in my DNA. What if I will use it again? What if it will come in handy at some point in the future (be it 5 days, or five years)? These are forces I'm battling against. And I Shall Prevail! No matter the emotional cost! I will not negotiate with Clutter! The Clutter will not win!

But mark my words, if I ever become famous, future generations will weep for the lost information of my spending habits during college. And it will be a great loss.....

Morning Breath Is Different When It's Not Your Bed

Somebody was On My List on Feb. 13. But by Feb. 14, that same somebody decided to take a Big Boy Pill. And you know what? He survived.

He survived sleeping-The Whole Night-at my house. And the cats didn't hassle him too much. They like him very much and were on their best behavior. Not once did Booger body-slam his face. Which makes me think that's a Very Special Activity that he reserves only for my morning wake-up call.

A Valentine (A little late, but it's the thought that counts)

Every morning, I say to myself, "I have the love of my family where ever I go." It's become my mantra. It helps me to leave the house in the morning, to know that whatever happens, be it my fault or the fates, I got Peeps. And when I say "family," know that I firmly believe that friends are the family you get to pick for yourself.

So, here's the Valentine part; as I'm thinking it to myself, I'm sending it back to you. Know that every morning, I think about you, and I'm hoping for the best from everyday, for everyone.

My Chocolate Filling, Has Turned To Fudgecicle

I may have spoken too soon about actually looking forward to V-Day. Or it's just Friday the 13th.... Jury's still out.

Either way, the evening ahead is going to involve a lot of vodka, and Battlestar Galactica with the roomie.

Hard Exterior Reveals Chocolate Filling

Ok, Ok, you got me....I am actually looking forward to V-Day this year. The Dread Valentine's Day, as I've thought of it in years' past, is not so dreaded this time around.

Last year it was a day of endings, as it was the day of Grandpa's funeral. But this year I'm looking at it as a day of beginnings. It's the day I'll be signing my new lease. And I'll be spending it with the Dreamboat and his Funny Dog. I'm bringing over a cotton blend yarn, just for her to sniff. Color? Why red, of course.

Grandpa, Tell Me 'Bout The Good Ol' Days

My Grandpa called me "Dollgirl," He called my brother "Nason." And he called my sister "Dolly."

He lived 94 years, and was sharp, right till the end. He had heart surgery when he was 89, and they told the family to be there as he didn't have a good chance of making it out of recovery. Well, he did. He was with us for another 5 years.

He worked at Ford during the Union Riots. When I started working Downtown, we would talk about what stores were still open, which buildings were still there. Stores and buildings he used to visit. He told me I worked too much. And he was right. Still is.

He had a hunting camp, where they called him "One Shot Walt." Because he didn't miss.

He would tell me, "I don't like you driving at night. Don't pick up hitch hikers." And then send me on my way with a bag of treats, "something to chew on for the drive." And orders to call my mom to let her know I made it to my destination.

You never left his house with an empty stomach.

He cared deeply for all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren, and made us all feel like we were his favorite. In truth, he never treated any one of us any differently. Because we were all his favorite.

And a year ago today, he died. In his own bed, peacefully in his sleep.

Fashionable Fabulousness

Soon I will have an address that confirms my Fabulousness. Or maybe just a valid excuse for my eccentricities, as this neighborhood is home to some of the zaniest and nicest people in Metro Detroit. I shall very soon be signing a lease on a new place.

This place, I have been assured, has no major spider problem. It also has no creepy basement with monsters. It does have a creepy attic, but as access is through the ceiling I'll just never look up and pretend it's not there. It also has a lime green kitchen. Who could ask for anything more?

Pppffffttttt....Pickle Edition

Pickle has learned a new trick, making fart noises. This video is great because it also demonstrates his Very Expressive Face.

Public Apology

It seems that I owe an apology to one very cute, very smart dog. When she found out about my post, she got a little offended. She may have been a little embarrassed that I shared that story to the Internets. I found out from her human that she has started using some foul language. This has to stop, Good Dogs don't use bad words.

I think she may have misinterpreted my meaning. I like her so much that I've made her part of this blog. If fact, I'm delighted she shares my appreciation for yarn. I'm just not as uninhibited to sniff it (at least, not in front of anyone).

Dogs Are Weird

Last night I went to the Dreamboat's house to hide from the Blues. The Blues have chosen a prime spot above my bed, so that whenever I lay down my head, I'm completely overwhelmed. I warned him that I wasn't up for much conversation, and that I really just wanted to knit. He was fine with that, told me to bring it over and we could just watch a movie.

It was kind of a big deal, as I've never actually brought knitting over before (and no, that's not some kind of metaphor). But we both snuggled in, and it was comfortable. That's the only way to describe it. Until his dog made things a little awkward....

She shoved her snout right into my yarn bag in inhaled so deeply I thought we were going to be pulling strings out of her nose. What a weird dog. The cats love the yarn. They sit on it and bat it around, but they certainly don't try to inhale it. To this dog, orange wool-blend yarn is like crack, and she couldn't get enough. She just sat at my feet and stared intently at my hands, watching every little move I made. Very unnerving, I tell you.

This is probably why I'm a cat person.

As My Life Flashed Before My Eyes....

Last night I was talking on my cell as I got out of my car, which I had parked in my driveway, and I nearly died. OK, fine. That might be a little dramatic, but I could have injured SOMETHING.

I slipped on a patch of ice wearing heels. I told the person I was talking to, "just to let you know, I almost died right then." Their reply, "Huh." Which I took to be 'Huh, wow your delivery was pretty calm, I don't know if I can take that seriously.'

And that could be the end of my little story, but of course, it is not. I slipped on the same effin spot this morning. Only I wasn't talking to anybody at the time, so now I feel the need to tell the story to the whole Internets. I think I pulled my core. (As opposed to two weeks ago when I BROKE my core while shoveling my driveway.) This slip was a bigger slip than last night, I think I might have exclaimed. Something along the lines of, "AIiiIkkgGkkkhhh...unhh"

I just picture my reclusive neighbor watching me out the window (as I imagine she often does, I'm fairly entertaining in my klutzy-ness), and giggling between puffs on her Virgina Slims. And I thought in that moment, please don't let me go out like this.

And the little incident sort of solidified what I've been thinking about lately. That is, I need to move. My lease is up at the end of March, and I just didn't want to think about moving again. Ever. In fact, I remember very clearly, stating as I moved the last box into the house nearly a year ago, "I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN."

But with all the Spiders, the insanely expensive heating bill I got last month, and now the latest of being nearly brained by the driveway...I think maybe it's time this house and I parted ways. For my own continued existence.....

KeepOn With The PeepOn

My afternoon took a turn for the sad, and let me tell you, I needed some kind of pick-me-up. Then, as I was driving home, a Spoon song came on my ipod. Which reminded me of my favorite Spoon song, which is "I Turn My Camera On," which reminded me of this video I found a while ago on YouTube. Enjoy....




First thing I did when I got home was boot up my laptop and search this video. I like Spoon, and I love Peeps...and a Dancing Peep, well that's just funny. I played it twice and danced around the living room. The cats thought I had lost it, because there is a reason I don't dance in public. But I felt better.

January is almost over (THANK BABY JESUS), and February is almost here (with the anniversary of my Grandpa's death, and VDay, and more cold cold winter). So, let's just say I've had to add some new coping mechanisms to my arsenal. As Dane Cook says, "I just gotta dance it out!"

And did you know, that in OHIO, they cancel WORK for snow. Yeah, you heard right, they have work snow days. What a bunch of wimps!

Well Said, Little Troll

Say what you will about Mitch Albom, I know I have. It may be harsh to call him a "troll." He definitely is arrogant, but he sure can write. If you live in, or grew up in, Michigan, you HAVE TO read his article in Sports Illustrated. The Free Press ran it a few days ago.

It sincerely sums up most of what I feel about Detroit myself.

"We don't talk about whether Detroit will be fixed but when Detroit will be fixed."

"...To watch these lawmakers hand out, with barely a whisper, hundreds of billions to the financial firms that helped cause this current disaster, then make the Detroit Three beg like dogs and slap them with nothing? Honestly."

"Do you think if your main industry sails away to foreign countries, if the tax base of your city dries up, you won't have crumbling houses and men sleeping on church floors, too? Do you think if we become a country that makes nothing, that builds nothing, that only services and outsources, that we will hold our place on the economic totem pole? Detroit may be suffering the worst from this semi-Depression, but we sure didn't invent it. And we can't stop it from spreading. We can only do what we do. Survive."

When I first started my office job, I had to explain to people that I actually LIKED working downtown. I had to explain this to people who lived LESS THAN 15 MILES AWAY from the center of the city. I was constantly telling them that I never felt unsafe. And yes, there were dirty and abandoned neighborhoods, but you just had to be smart and aware, as with any major city.

Now, nobody bats an eyelash. In fact, they will tell me about the last time they went Downtown and had a great time. Sometimes I'm asked for the best places to park, or grab a bite to eat.

It seems that people are more likely to embrace The D. And as Mr. Albom wrote that piece for Sports Illustrated, it has a lot to do with the Sports Teams. But along with that is--all we have is each other. Nobody but a Michigander knows what it's like to live in Michigan, right now. I'll take it. And along with that, the promise of Hope from a new Presidency.

Co-misery and Hope. Yeah, I'm still working on that attitude adjustment.....

Bitter Cold To Linger...So Will My Bitter Attitude

I read this story this morning, and I just wanted to cry. And I would cry too, if I thought the tears might not freeze on my rosy little cheeks.

I just got our heating bill in the mail yesterday, and my reaction was to turn down the heat. But then I got so cold, I had to turn it up a little just so I could get some sleep. It's really hard to sleep when your body is shaking with the shivers. I tried to tent the covers and sleep in a little cave, but I felt like I was suffocating from the weight of the covers (that may be because I normally sleep with TWO down comforters. And an afghan. And two kitties. That's how cold my room is on a "normal" basis!).

One idea I've had, is to impose on the Dreamboat as much as possible. He'd rather I stay at his place anyway. And seriously, when your ass is freezing and you're trying to cut costs everywhere possible, what's a little loosening of the morals anyway? I'll just turn MY heat down on my way out the door.

Hey--it's every kitty for themselves!

Breakin' Hearts and Takin' Names

I realize this picture makes Pickle look a little "special," but all it demonstrates is that he inherited the Family's Very Expressive Face.

What The Crap! 2009 Edition

In homage to my Bro--What The Crap?!

What the Crap, '09!?? Can't I get just a little free time? Just a little? Please? We are going on Day 7 of the New Year, and I haven't actually had a day off yet. I won't have a day off until this Saturday. That is TEN DAYS IN A ROW of working and/or work-related-type obligations.

I've been a moody, emotional mess, who has said "I want to punch ____ in the Face!" at least once a day for the last week. And I don't sleep very much.

On the plus side, I've started knitting again. I'm bringin' Crafty back! I'm getting my knitting house in order! I'm going to make my yarn work for me!

That was a lot of exclamations.....serious bidness. Or serious crazy....ha ha....

Back on the Bus

I am again a Rider of the Transit. I ride the bus to work! Oh, Naps! How I have missed you. Now instead of dealing with Crazy Midwest Winter Drivers, I'll be dealing with what to watch on my ipod.

And perfecting my "I'm not looking at you, please don't talk to me" look.

Oh, and on my first day, I saved a fellow rider from a dead car battery for his drive home. Look at me--nice to the environment, nice to people. Its a positive change from wanting to punch people in the face.

....And a Happy New Year to all!

Ah, 2008 is over.

I was about to say "finally," but then I realized that last year wasn't all that bad. I mean, yeah, my heart cracked a little--but then it healed (maybe even grew a little bit). And I thought my contract for work would be over--but they extended my contract indefinitely. And, of course, there was Pickle.

2009 started off on a great note. It was spent with good friends and Love. I'm hoping for more of the same.

There will be new babies this year (the count stands at three). Hopefully, there will be new opportunities. And more Love.

And the Bourbon, it didn't fight back this time.