Two Trues and One False

I love my job

I am happy

I don't think about you anymore

I'm Not Dead

So.....yeah.....

It's been a while. Sorry for that. My life has settled into a pattern of chaos. Most of which is very personal and involves family and friends, which I said I would never post about here. Because this blog is about me. What I will say is, this year has been treating me pretty well, ups and downs and all that, but on the whole I'd say it's been a good year.

Whatever has been taken away from me has been replaced with something even better. I had to move out of my rental, only to buy a new house (which I OWN, and is MINE all MINE). I was in a car accident, which totalled my almost-paid-off car, but I was able to buy a brand-new-so-amazing car. I still have a job. Two, in fact. Which I'm grateful for.

The one thing that is bothering me is I feel as if some one in my life has recently mis-represented themself. I feel like I have been lied to, and I have a hard time with this. So, Universe, I'm waiting for you to make this one right, too. Either bring some one even more fabulous into my life, or help this person have the courage to be honest with themself, and be able to talk to me honestly about what they did.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.