There's No Use Running Away

Please indulge me tonight while I get all nostalgic for the days when my girls were young enough that they didn't care when I dressed them up like comic book characters. Sigh.

So, I think I'm going through one of those phases. Those ones where I just kind of feel crappy in general. I was tired all day and then when I went running, I didn't get better. Normally, I feel icky after work, and then I go running and essentially wash the scum of work off of me and I feel so much better. Today, however, I felt worse during my run. I made it all the way to Scott Boulevard and had to walk for a bit. War's "Low Rider" and Wilco's version of "Burned" even came on and both of those should have spurred me along, but alas, they didn't.

Once I got home, I realized I was doing that thing again. Have you ever done this, where something in your house needs to be taken care of, but you're too tired or you just can't deal with details at that point in time, so you let it go, until you realize that you're expending more energy avoiding the detail, than just fixing it? That's what I've been doing with changing light bulbs around my house. I just turn on a different light, but now most of the peripheral light bulbs need to be changed too, and well, I guess I finally have to just fucking take care of my shit. Damn, I hate being the grown-up in the house.

Let's recap, shall we? I feel like crap and I'm too lazy to change my own god damn light bulbs. Plus, I keep wanting to make light bulbs one word, even though I know it's two. Gee, I'm a real catch. I don't know why I can't find a date.

Tonight, Stinky and I went to the mall to get a few last minute Halloween costume items. K. called me from Paul's Discount Store last night to see if we needed anything else besides, two packages of fake blood, two black and white make-up kits and a grotesque scar making kit. I told her I thought that should probably cover it from Paul's. Stinky needed to buy fishnets and a tiara for her costume. (she's going as a Halloween princess?) The bustier/corset never materialized, so I'm zombie Catholic school girl. I needed to get a black emo wig and some knee highs, which along with the cute, plaid, pleated skirt is one of the big reasons for my costume. Any decent wigs were sold out, but I did get some knee highs. I may have to settle for braids and just try to keep them out of the mess of the scar I'm going to try to have on my throat. Charming.

Since I looked as crappy as I felt, I was bound to run into a ton of people I knew. I saw my friend Andy, but almost didn't recognize him because he wasn't wearing a hat and I've never seen him outside of a bar, so he was totally out of context. I also saw this woman I used to work with at La Caca, and we talked about how mean we were to our co-workers because we were in such hell, we had no other options. Even twenty years later, a lot of the songs I made up about people were still pretty funny. Have I mentioned that I like to take songs and change the lyrics to suit certain people? I think everyone deserves their own theme song.

Now, I think it's best if I just haul my tired, crap feeling, lazy, dateless ass to bed, seein's how I'm going out tomorrow night and who the hell knows what kind of state I'll be in when I blog next. Good night and good luck.

p.s. I will try really, really hard to get some hideous Halloween photos to post on the blog tomorrow night.

I'm in the Mood, The Rhythm is Right

Here is a photo of a bunch of pumpkins put on a pedestal.

Whew! Remember how yesterday I thought I had a hangover after drinking only two. Count 'em, two pints of beer? Well, I must have been high too, because even though I'm the biggest pussy about handling alcohol, even I can't get hungover for two days from drinking two pints. That's right. I woke up this morning, and still had a migraine. Not to be confused with a hangover. Fucking duh.

So, yeah. I woke up with a migraine on a Monday and couldn't find my window scraper, so I was cranky even before I dropped the girls off at school. Then work was busy and sucked ass. In the evening I went to another junior high band concert - which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't on a Monday night and if it didn't last way too long and if the seventh graders could keep time and/or play their instruments. After we got home, my girls totally bogarted the Guitar Hero 3, and when they finally let me on it, they laughed at me for looking like a total dork. I am well aware that I look like a dork no matter what I do, but I can't imagine anyone looking dignified while holding a miniature pretend plastic guitar and pressing buttons along to the tune of "Slow Ride" - that includes my "cooler than thou" teenage daughters.

In light of all my general crankiness, I'm going with my strengths and taking the easy, sleazy, cheesy route of looking at the Google searches that led people to my blog. Since I've already probably written too much of an intro, I promise I'll only do ten or so.

1. Last week, someone Googled the name of the guy who was my arch enemy in junior high, and the name of the small suburb on the Southside of Chicago where we lived at the time. I hope it was the guy, because even thirty years later, I want him to know what an asshole he was to everyone. Hey, here's a question, do you think the people who were mean in junior high and high school, know they were heinous and feel any guilt later in life?

2. My latest search, isn't all that funny, but it's certainly true, "You gotta front". What do you think they were looking for? Examples of why one would want to front, if one indeed felt it necessary to do so?

3. "Tequila Mockingbird Roller". At first I thought this might be some kind of weed reference, but judging from the other results, it's really a roller derby term. They must have been really disappointed when they wound up on my blog. Almost as sad as all those hundreds of people who still come to my blog looking for "shaved dudes". Sorry to disappoint. I'm not even attracted to shaved dudes.

4. "Picture of a silver spoon in your mouth". Sorry, dude. That's about the last thing you'll see on my blog. Now, if you want to see a picture of a plastic spoon in my mouth, or better yet, a bendy straw, let's talk. That could easily be arranged.

5. "Girl showing tits Iowa Hawkeye" - Um, no. Just no. I'm sure there are plenty of sites for that though.

6. "Photo glamour girl" - See number five.

7. "Endorphins cute" - Finally someone ended up at the right place. I like to think my endorphins are fucking adorable.

8. "Famous people who did mushrooms" - I wish I was the authority on that. Don't you want to know which famous people did mushrooms? My guess is, all of them.

9. "Sex with the big woman" - Again, I can't help you there, pal. I do think it's interesting that they want to have sex with the big woman and not a big woman. I'm glad they have some kind of standards.

10. "Hooker shoes in Houston" - I wish I could help this person out, I really do. I wish I had hooker shoes and I wish that I could wear them in Houston. If you ever see me in Houston, I promise I will be wearing hooker shoes.

11. "Oh life's gonna bring you down" - Don't I know it, pally. Don't I know it.

Yes We're Sad and Sorry

Here is a photo of what my brain feels like right now. My poor, sad, sorry head.

This will be quick, since I thought it was a great idea to drink a couple of pints at noon and it all felt totally fine at the time, but now it's come back to bite me in the ass.

Stinky went with to watch the Steelers game today. She seemed to have fun. She was telling my friend K. that her new boyfriend is a Steelers fan and K. said. "You can't go wrong with a Steelers fan..." and then looked at me and laughed and corrected herself. "Well, sometimes you can." Stinky got to hang-out with my friend T. and since they are essentially the same person, they were able to talk about nail polish and shoes and make fun of a guy for looking like Luke Perry.

We kicked around costume ideas. K. thought the superhero idea would be great for me, since I'm not shy about flying my geek flag. The big problem is that I have the boots, and the tights and I can make a cape really easily, but I don't have the middle part. I have a couple of friends who are going to dig around to see if they have an old corset lying around. I haven't dated anyone in several years worth owning a corset for, so I'm all corsetted out. If that falls through, I think I'm going with the zombie catholic school girl get-up because it's easy and I get to wear creepy make-up.

Yeah, so...I think that's all I'm good for tonight. It's kind of a shame, because I was doing so well earlier this weekend. Leave it to me to fuck-up the finish.

Lives Her Life From Inside of a Room

Okay, childrenses. I'm finally putting up my building photos. They are both from last year, but I like them, so you get to see them again. Here is the bridge to cross the street by the Biology building.

And this is a photo of fire escapes on the Bo James' building. I don't think I need to remind you how much I like fire escapes, do I?

My first hibernation weekend of the year is coming along quite nicely. The girls and I went to the mall. How weird is that? Neither of the girls had other plans and we actually got to spend a couple of hours together as a family. Freaky.

On our way out, I saw my friend A. with her mom and her kids ahead of us, and I used it as a perfect opportunity to mess with her. I snuck up right behind A., and stood next to her daughter and started tugging hard on her purse. She was at the mall, so I figured she was probably at least a little annoyed anyway, and my mission was to put her over the edge, and boy howdy, did I. She swung around all ready to ream someone, until she saw it was me. I can't remember A.'s exact words, but I think she may have said, "You ass," or something to that effect. It was perfect.

A. almost made me want to break from my self-imposed Saturday evening solitude, by suggesting that I come over and split a bottle of wine with her, but I knew that once I went running and came home, I wasn't going to want to leave my house again. So, I declined and we'll have to schedule that on another weekend when I'm not in such dire need of "me" time.

I talked to my friend K. a couple of times today, and we firmed up Halloween plans. Her housemate's mom and brother were coming to visit and she had to get some cleaning done, so we decided we'd go over Halloween costume options tomorrow at the Vine when we watched football. Right now, I'm wavering between a superhero, (thanks for that suggestion, LauraB.) and Trevor suggested Aeon Flux, so I think I'll be going through my 4,000 comic books for more suggestions, or a Catholic school girl. I have everything for that costume, so it would be handy, plus there would be the added comic element of me being 42 years old. I could vary that by being an Emo Catholic school girl and have some cuts on my arm and wear black lipstick, or I could be a dead CSG and make my face nice and gruesome. As usual, I'm always happy to hear what you all think.

Here I Go, Here I Go, Here I Go Again

Here are some leaves in the gutter.

This weekend my plan is to lie very low...Unless, of course, something changes. I've just been feeling like I've been too social lately. I'm sure it could make my posts even more tediously boring than usual, but it's either chill-out for a bit, or write my blog from my padded cell on tons of mood stabilizing meds...Say, though, a quiet room and legal drugs, that doesn't sound all bad, does it?

The girls were both gone for most of the night and I used my wonderful alone time to full advantage. I finally finished BioShock. It seems that I treat video games like I treat novels, where I basically devour them and can't do much else, until I'm done and then I feel a little void inside where thoughts of the novel or game used to reside. I know, I know, I can hear my padded cell calling me too.

After I finished my game, one of the things I did was finally burn my friend K.'s mixed CD. It's so different and easy, making them now. Back in the day, after I walked to school and back barefoot, in the snow, uphill and shit, I would come home drunk and/or high after bar close and decide to make mixed tapes using my turntable and cassette deck. It took forever and then I'd fuck it all up because I was too messed up to pay attention to when songs ended or I'd bump the turntable or some other dumb thing. But now, all I have to do is make a playlist and click a few things and voila! I've created a goofy, girly mix - a kind of angsty, estrogeny, fun girl cocktail, if you will. I'll share the list of songs with you, but you have to promise not to judge me too harshly. Many of them are very, very bad...No, really. I'm not even kidding around this time. If you think you can handle it, read on:

1. "Pop Star" - Lipstick Homicide - this is a local band made up of high school girls that totally kicks ass.

2. "Kid in America" - Kim Wilde.

3. "Nutbush City Limits" - Ike and Tina Turner.

4. "On the Radio" - Donna Summer.

5. "Milkshake" - Kelis. When this song comes on during my run, I laugh the whole way through. Because when I'm jogging and sweaty and my hair's all frizzy, my milkshake sends the boys running and screaming from the yard.

6. "These Boots are Made for Walking" - Nancy Sinatra.

7. "Cannonball" - The Breeders.

8. "Magic" - Olivia Newton John. Some may poke fun because it's Olivia Newton John, (except guys in their thirties - almost every guy in his thirties seems to have had a thing for her growing up) but it's from Xanadu, so it's okay.

9. "Tell Me Something Good" - Rufus with Chaka Khan. Oh, yeah. Chaka. Fucking. Khan.

10. "Operate" - Peaches.

11. "Cherry Bomb" - The Runaways. Remember how hot you thought Leta Ford was before you saw her interviewed on VH1 and found out how annoying and crazy she was?

12. "Push It" - Salt n Pepa.

13. "Say You'll Be There" - Spice Girls. Don't worry, I already checked with K. and she is totally fine with the Spice Girls, so don't even try and give me shit.

14. "Smile" - Lily Allen.

15. "No Scrubs" - TLC. I can finally listen to this song again, now that it isn't on the radio one hundred million times a day.

16. "Right Back Where We Started From" - Maxine Nightingale.

17. "Half-Breed" - Cher. Don't get your panties in a wad, it's seventies Cher. Remember? Back when she was fun and kitschy? Before she had an Oscar and sang on an aircraft carrier?

18. "Atomic" - Blondie.

19. "Dancing With Myself" - The Donnas.

20. "Shoop" - Salt-N-Pepa. I have two songs on here by them, because K. said I should put on as much Salt-N-Pepa as I could find. I'm sure she'd do the same for me too.

21. "Maps" - Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.

22. "Harper Valley PTA" - Jeannie C. Reilly. An essential part of any cheesy girl's diet.

She Looks Like She Don't Know Better

Here is a photo of the story of my life.

So, I was thinking that I might go out this Halloween. Yeah, it's on a school night, but I'd try to come home at a decent hour and not really drink that much. I think I could make it work. Some people I know are doing a Misfits cover band at the Picador. So, K. and I were kicking around the idea of seeing that. Now, the big problem is figuring out a costume. I have this crazy pair of black, knee high boots I could work with. Any suggestions from my readers?

When the girls were younger, I would dress-up to go trick-or-treating with them. One year, when I was still working at the clinic and doing a lot of phlebotomy, I dressed-up like a vampire - even to work. The patients loved it, and Coadster was happy because she suggested it, and even at that tender age she had control issues.

Another year I went as a skank bar hag. That costume was probably the most fun. I found this nasty, sorta slutty dress at Goodwill, that also had weird pit stains. Then I wore ripped-up nylons, heels that were scuffed and broken, I made sure to wear too much make-up and smear it around, and took my hair as big as it's ever been - which, if you know me, you understand just how out of control that was. The nurses I worked with at the time, had so much fun at lunch one day remembering the outfits of every skanky bar hag they knew to try to give me ideas for my costume.

I went to a lot of parties that year, so I don't remember a whole lot from that night. I do recall, being at an after hours party and sitting on a couch between two women, who kept trying to feel me up - one was dressed as Slash and the other dressed as Axl Rose. Come to think of it, that was kind of fun. Maybe I'll bring back the skank bar hag costume again this year.

Watch Me As I Gravitate

Here is a picture of a colt licking its leg.

You know, you'd think someday I'd finally get that if I drink too early in the evening, I'm pretty much useless for the rest of the night, but apparently, I never learn.

I met my friend S. after work at Sam's Pizza for Happy Two Hours. Well, at least it was happy for me. I got stuck for a bit on a stupid, played out topic and I totally can't hold my alcohol, and S. totally can, so I don't know how happy it was for her. Thank god it's always all about me then, huh? No, really. Sorry S.

Earlier in the day, my friend K. messaged me to say that she and T. were meeting at George's after work, and did I want to come out and play. Since I already had plans with S., I told her I'd try to catch up with them afterward. When I finally met up with them, I said two things, "I'm not allowed to drink any more beer and I really need a cheeseburger." I met T.'s friend M. who was pretty awesome.

At one point, a guy M. knew came over by our booth to hang up his jacket and M. asked him if he got his test results back. She was talking about some business class they were taking together, but we were all thinking of those tests you sometimes have to take after you drink too much and go home with the wrong person who may or may not have left you with a present that needs to be treated with antibiotics or special creams. When she finally figured out why we were laughing, she said "You, you and you," pointing at each one of us individually. "You are all dirty." She catches on fast, that M.

I got home by eight thirty'ish and tried to play a little BioShock, but I was worthless and tired and too lazy to get very far. I'm at the point now, where I just want to finish it so I can get on with my life and do those little things, like washing dishes, making dinner and bathing regularly, that seem so much less important than saving an imaginary underwater community at the hands of a maniacal dictator. You know?

And My Eyes Are Wondering How You Feel

I gotta hand it to Dexter. He definitely has a knack for sending me pictures through my email on just the right days - the days I need a laugh, or some eye candy to get me through. Today, he did it again. The subject was, "Your Future Boyfriend" and there it was, the hot cowboy who opened at the Drive-By Trucker's show. Actually, he's my friend K.'s future boyfriend. Not that we're internet stalker's or anything...Oh, who the hell am I trying to kid, K. and I, and most of my friends for that matter, are HUGE internet stalkers, but anyway, K. found his MySpace. It said right on there that he was a real cowboy, and you and me and god and everyone else knows, that they wouldn't put it on MySpace, if it weren't true.

The fun part of our Make Out Quest 2007, is talking about what kind of guys we'd like to make out with. K. has said she'd like a guy who was in good shape, but not too uptight about it, and someone who is at least a little outdoorsy. You know, a guy who doesn't either sit around on a couch, or on a bar stool all day and night. Unfortunately, that leaves out most of the guys we know.

Me? I'm not as picky about looks. This town is full of really hot people who don't have that much character or, who really aren't all that interesting. I'd sacrifice a lot in the looks department, just to hang out with a funny, intelligent, honest, straighforward guy - who can also keep up with my cheesy song and pop culture trivia references. How sexy are all those traits in a man? I know, very.

The other day, Stinky brought up the subject of me dating...Or not. I think both my girls would like to see me in a healthy relationship.

Stinky: So, tell me again how come you don't really date? Most of my friend's mom's have boyfriends and they aren't as cute as you (which was nice of Stinky to say, but I think she said it mostly because she looks a lot like me, and she thinks she's adorable) and plus, you aren't psycho like a lot of my friend's moms.

Me: Which of your friend's moms are psycho?

Stinky: Well, I don't know...Most of them. You know what I mean, they yell a lot and they seem to freak out really easy...Hey, you're changing the subject. Do you not date because guys your age aren't very hot? Or is it because men seem to get all cranky when they get older?

Me: (laughing) I don't care what they look like so much, but the cranky and set in their ways part, is kind of hard to take.

Stinky: Yeah, and I think it would be hard to find a guy who was weird enough for you...

Me: There's always that.

Why Do I Find It Hard to Write the Next Line?

Here is a picture of some unsightly, end-of-the-season sunflowers that I took yesterday.

Hey, now here's something I spaced-out this weekend - I forgot to tag the next person to think of a word to photograph for next week. I choose, Laura B. Let's see if she can come up with something better than I did. At least she won't be half-drunk when she thinks of it.

Okay, I'm going to try really hard to keep this much shorter, if not sweeter, than yesterday's post. It should be easy, since I didn't do jack today. (who's Jack, and did I miss something by not doing him?) I promise to spare you any details, but work was crazy again. By the time I got home, I had already decided to do as little as possible, and I think I met my goal. My ex's car is all messed up again, so I'm now the sole member of our family taxi service. I did a bit of driving and then I did a lot of playing BioShock.

I have one question for those who read my blog and have played the game. I'm not completely done with it yet, but can anyone tell me what happens, when you harvest the little girls instead of saving them? I'm dying to know, and I'd be happy to share what happens the other way too. Okay, enough of my illness. On to the next thing.

Tomorrow I have to...Uh, I mean, get to go watch Stinky do some kind of marching band extravaganza that they apparently refer to as a "follies". I'm envisioning a Busby Berkeley style show, where they wear outlandish costumes and everything is perfectly in sync. But if it's like the band geek stuff was at my high school, there should be a bunch of surly teenagers, shuffling and looking uncomfortable.

Okay, I think that's enough drivel for one post.

RAWK!

Oh, I Just Don't Know Where to Begin

Hey, so here's a question for all you Fall connoisseurs...

Do you like your tree foliage more red/orange...

...Or more yellow/green? This tree was so crazy bright, that I could barely look at it with my slight hangover today.

Oh, kids. Have you ever had those times in your life when things were really pretty good, and there was lots to do and no one in your household was really sick or emotionally upset and there wasn't a whole lot of drama unless you decided to create it, and you hate drama, so you chose not to? There was so much in your life to do and see and you didn't want to miss it, so you tried to grab it all up with with both hands and stuff it in your mouth, so you could keep it with you to have for when things got really bad again? And you know they will. There will be lots of pain and scary stuff and bad luck, but for this weekend, things were good. So, maybe you did too much, because you also know that soon, it will get cold outside and there won't be so many options? Well, that was pretty much how my weekend went.

Things were good, but hectic. The weather was amazing and I ran 24 miles in three days. I didn't get as much cleaning done as I wanted, but I'll make up for it as soon as things get more seasonably chilly...Or else I won't and will just deal, and I bet no one dies because of it.

On Saturday night I had a bit of a migraine. I took my meds, but they didn't work like they usually do. I went to dinner with friends, and had to take some more. I can be very internal when I'm in pain, or sad, or even sometimes when everything is just fine, but mostly when I'm in pain. My friend H. noticed, and later when I was better, she said, "I could see we were losing you there for a bit at dinner..." Yeah, I had to tune out, or I was afraid I was going to pass-out.

Thankfully, I didn't and my headache went away. So much so, that I actually drank some beer, and then some more. I went to The Picador to see a friend's band play and I had a lot of fun. There were many people I knew there, and I was a little overwhelmed. I tried to talk to everyone, but conversations kept getting interrupted, and then I'd forget to tell people the stuff I really wanted to say. Of course, whatever I did say, was very loud and inappropriate. I knew it was time to go when I just blanked out on what I was talking about in mid-sentence and left the words just hanging out there to dry. I'm sure whatever it was I was going to say was really earth shattering, though.

Today, for some reason, I was tad hungover. Hmmm, I wonder what could have caused that? I ran my eight mile route very slowly. By the end of my run, I had sweat out most of the evil toxins that were bumming my high, and could go about the rest of my day.

Stinky had a friend over, so I made grilled cheese sandwiches and soup and then dropped them off at a movie. I took Coadster out for dinner to celebrate her making All-State. We were both pretty tired, so we ate our pasta and stared off into space a lot.

Since we were downtown, I stopped into 126 because I knew my friend A. was working and I never see her. We sat outside on a bench and chatted. At one point my friend Brice came out to take a little break and asked me if I still ran. He said he had just started. I asked him if he had experienced runner's high yet. He said, no. That now it still just kills him. I told him to stick it out and he would be rewarded with endorphins. He said, we'll see.

The football watching extravaganza got canceled on account of someone's (not mine, this time) hangover. It could have just as easily been mine, so I totally understand.

In the Cool of the Evening When Everything is Gettin' Kind of Groovy

Here's me being lame and finally getting the photo for the week up. The word this week was "Spooky". I took this last year, of that one barn on Scott Boulevard that puts up all the Halloween decorations. I've been tagged to think of the word to photograph for next week. Of course, I just got home from a bar, so I apologize if the word I choose is really lame. Blame the alcohol - I always do. Okay, so....Um...the word I choose is "building". Lets' see what you all come up with.

Now, the only other thing I'm going to say, is that Coadster made All-state. She didn't even have to get called back. They took her after her initial audition. She left me a message while I was running today, and when I called her back, I screamed into the phone. She just said, "Mom. Stop." I hear that a lot from her.

Cause I was a Bit 2 Leisurely

Here is a lovely purple flower looking straight at you.

I apologize for not posting last night. You know how sometimes you just don't feel like it? Yeah, I figured you'd understand.

Yesterday wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. Work was so busy, that I didn't even have time to sit and resent it like I wanted. John was gone, and how it works in my office, is that I'm the girl who does people's jobs when they're sick or on vacation. My ADD is perfect for being the person who floats, but what it also means is that I have to do my job and the other person's and that makes for a busy day. It kind of worked out well yesterday when I was so tired that I need to be busy to stay awake. Ok, yeah. I know, talking about your job is like talking about your dreams, nobody cares about them or wants to read about them but you. So, let's move on to better things - like my Friday night.

Last night was exactly what I needed. There was a home football game, so the girls both had other plans. I got home and after not running all week, I finally ran my eight mile route through Coralville. It was perfect. After a couple of slower songs that I forwarded right through, my iPod gave me, "Grazing in the Grass", by Hugh Masakela, a little Allice in Chains (I felt so early nineties all of a sudden) Prince's "Raspberry Beret" which took me right back to 1985 when I first joined the California Conservation Corps. and "Whiskey River" by Willie Nelson and that reminded me of Thursday night. Like I said, my run was perfect, and I am still as much in love with my iPod now as I was the day I married....er, bought it.

The rest of the night went just as well, and last night, I not only had my jammies on by seven, I had them on before seven. Yeah, I really can rock that hard on a Friday night so quit being jealous. Well, the rest of the night I spent geeking out, playing BioShock. At one point my favorite IT guy from work, who is also one of my XBox live friends, sent me a voice message that said, "Get her, Mr. Biggles!" in the same exact voice as the creepy little girls use on the game. I sent him a voice message right back telling him he was so good at imitating her, that it scared me.

I can't believe I almost forgot, Coadster is auditioning for All-state today. For voice, the competition is so tough, that they have to audition in order to be able to make it to the auditions. Crazy, huh? Anyway, she passed the first set and this is the last set. Everybody wish her luck, 'kay?

It's Fuckin' Great to be Alive

Here is the creek across the street from my house.

Okay, tonight was really, super duper great. After I got things taken care of and bolted down on the homefront, I picked up K. and we headed over to Dexter's house for snacks and beer and cheesecake and stuff. Everything was delicious and wonderful. Thanks Dex and S.

Driving to the show, K. and I decided it was time to bring back make out quest 2007 again. We both kind of let it go for a bit, but Winter's closing in, and then we'll never leave our houses and so we have to get cracking before the snow starts flying. The big problem comes in finding a boy. There just aren't any decent prospects that we can see. We're going out again on Saturday night, so maybe a big bus load of hot guys who aren't jerks will unload in our town by then. A girl can dream, can't she?

We made it to the Englert for the opening act - Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses. As the guy sitting behind us nursing his flask yelled, "You are opening for Drive-By Truckers and you kick ass!" Truer words were never spoken. They were awesome and the lead singer was a totally hot cowboy looking guy with an amazing voice - the kind of guy who just doesn't live in our town. Sigh.

During the first act, I saw my friend C. walking up the aisle, in town from Fort Madison. Luckily, he didn't see me, so I could punch him in the arm as he passed and watch him react by drawing up his fist. When he realized it was me, he said, "You're pretty, but I will hit you." I laughed, because I knew he was full of shit on both counts. C. talked us into going down to the Picador for a shot between acts in honor of his grandma who just died. I went along for the ride but didn't partake, as one of the lessons I learned in my twenties and then again several times in my thirties, was that I can't hold my liquor.

I ran into my friend Emily and was able to apologize to her for being drunk a month or so ago and telling her boyfriend, Jordan that I'd known her since she was two and how cute she was then and shriek, and shriek, and shriek. Luckily, Emily is really cool and thought it was funny. She promised to go out on Saturday night and show me how loud she can get when she's had a few drinks. I can't wait.

The Drive-By Truckers were starting just as we got back to the theater. We had awesome seats, but once the music started, a bunch of people rushed to the front. C. pulled both K. and I out of our seats and we went closer to the stage where we could see much better. The show was incredible. It seemed everyone both on the stage and in the crowd had bottles or flasks of whiskey. By the end of the show, I thought Patterson Hood was going to pass-out. The crazy thing was, that he could still perform, and pour whiskey into his bandmates and cater to the crowd all at the same time when he was that messed-up. They also did one of the best covers of Jim Carroll's "People Who Died" I've ever heard.

So, now it is very late, and Friday probably won't be all that much fun for me. Sure, it's my own damn fault, but that won't stop me from whining. I'm planning on staying home on Friday night, so that I can go out on Saturday night and maybe go to a friend's house to watch the Steelers on Sunday, which happens to be an evening game this week. Must. Sleep. Now.

I Want a Ticket to Anywhere

Here are two women sitting in a barn at the state fair in August. Just in case you forgot what it felt like when it was hot.

Oh, kids. I stayed home the last two days. I had a cold and I needed to rest, and so I did. I rested, then I rested...Oh, and then I rested some more. I guess, I also watched some movies and played some video games in there. Mostly I played a game called BioShock and all those people who told me I had to play it, were not lying. I'm nowhere near the end, but I think when I finish it, I'll kind of miss the world I've been living in on there - even if it is kind of creepy and harsh. It's so much better than sitting at my desk and inputting codes and information and having to be nice to the high school kids who call and say, "Um, like...I know, you guys were supposed to give me some kind of password, but you musta, like totally forgot to send it to me. Can you, um, give it to me again?" about a hundred times a day.

I have friends who say that if they didn't work, they'd go crazy with boredom. I am simply not that kind of girl. The only time I'm ever really bored, is at work. So, as soon as I stumble over my imaginary trust fund, I think you have a very good idea what I'd do first...Of course, after I bought a lifetime supply of candy and gum and marbles and soda.

Thank god I gave myself some time to rest up. Tomorrow night I'm going to see Drive-By Truckers with some friends. I am so excited. The plan is to go to Dex's house beforehand where he and his lovely lady S. will have delicious snacks for me and K. Since the girls' dad is directing a play, I have them every night until sometime in November. That means tomorrow night, I'll get them all set up before I go and then they can invite all their friends over after I'm gone to drink themselves into comas, do lots of drugs and make-out with boys...Just kidding...I hope.

Wish me luck tomorrow. I have a feeling after having so much wonderful, beautiful alone time, I might be even more resentful of my job than usual. I may have to get my repertoire of impersonations together to get me through the day. Hell, I may even take requests. My one boss really loves my Tracy Chapman and another always wants me to do Ethel Merman singing Guns n' Roses songs. Aren't you glad I don't work in your office?

The Pilgrimage Has Gained Momentum

Here is Coadster with her bright pink cast on both legs. I'm wearing some totally attractive sweatpants to hide the lovely roadrash on the side of my leg that would later turn into an extremely sexy scar.

This is kind of late this year, but fifteen years ago on October fourth, Coadster (who was twenty weeks old at the time) and I got into a bizarre horse and buggy accident. Apparently, when I go through something horrible, my brain protects me by not remembering it. I don't have much recollection of the accident. I did suffer a concussion and Coadster broke both of her legs.

Many, many years ago, I wrote a little fictiony piece about it, to try and piece together what happened. I shared part of it last year on my other blog and then deleted it, (that was the post my friend Sara was looking for) so I'll copy a different part of it tonight. Just for fill-in, We were on with this woman named Marla who worked with me at the coffee/ice cream shop. A guy named Arlen was driving the buggy when the horses got loose. We just happened to be going down a steep hill at the time. Ready? Okaaay!:

"Ah Hell," Arlen says. I see the horses running off, no longer connected to the buggy. Arlen is yanked out of the wagon still steadfastly holding on to the reins and trails behind the horses before he is left with a dislocated shoulder and broken arm in their wake. The buggy keeps going faster.

"Shit!" Marla yells and jumps off the side. Coadster and I are alone. She is crying. I think I am too. We are going too fast now for me to safely jump. The horses are gone, so I figure at some point we'll reach the bottom of the hill and stop. I have to press my feet hard to the floorboards to keep us from getting propelled out of the buggy. I feel my stomach fall and I wish it would drop to my feet to add weight.

This is where things get hazy. It feels like we're flying. I can't hold onto the floor any more and out we go. I can see it all in slow motion and I know exactly where we'll land and how it will feel. I try to keep Coadster in my arms but she starts to slide down my front. When we hit the ground I hear a strange crunching sound and taste the strong iron of my own blood in my mouth. Everything goes black and disappears.

I wake up and hurt. All I know is pain. I panic. There is something awful that happened. I am very familiar with this feeling of dread. There is a loud wailing far away. It is somehow comforting to hear but I don't know what it is. Something very bad has happened. I'm too tired to think and then things get dark again.

I come to again and see Marla. She's crying. She is standing between two ambulances. "At first it looked like the wagon ran over the baby, but then I realized that it was just the white sweater she was wrapped in. I probably shouldn't have picked her up, but I wasn't thinking too clearly. Is Coadster going to be okay?" She is talking to a paramedic. I'm afraid to hear the answer.

I'm stopping it here, because this post is already way too long and you all know the answer since she's fifteen now, and you just saw her pictures from Homecoming. I think you get the idea anyhow, it basically sucked and was really scary. The end.

Still I'm On the Dark Side of the Moon

Hey, I guess Blogger doesn't want to let me put any photos on here today. So, you'll have to just close your eyes and think of Iowa instead.

Today was kind of blah. I still have my cold. I woke up at 5:30 this morning with a migraine and it took 2 pills and until 3 this afternoon to make it go away. I was stupid and punchy most of the day. For some reason, my pain brings out the goofball in my co-worker John. His last name ends in M-A-N. So, I always change it up and call him John Loserman or John Freakerman or my own personal favorite, John Quittalkingaboutyourpenisbecauseitmakesyouseempatheticallyinsecureman. All I wanted while I was so miserable with my sick headache, was for John to do his Forrest Gump impersonation and say, "I got shot in the butTOCKS". I even asked him nicely to see if he'd do it for me, but he couldn't stop laughing long enough to say it.

I finally got pissed-off and after my boss left for lunch I sang as loudly as possible, "Heeeeyyy, Macarena!" John hates that song almost more than life itself.

Hey sang back, "Heeeeyyyy, shut your mouth!" to the same tune, and he never once did he say, "I got shot in the butTOCKS," like Forrest Gump.

See what I mean? Today was so not one of my better days.

Honey If I Get Restless

Here is a leaf in the grass.

I wouldn't call this weekend awesome. it wasn't horrible, it was just really busy and social and I am a girl who needs her downtime.

On Saturday we went to Ottumwa and it was fine. We celebrated Stinky's birthday...Again. The best part was checking out my sister's new house. It was so 70's, in that good kitschy way. Everything about it was totally mod. If I could have played with Mod Hair Ken and my Malibu Skipper in the Barbie Dreamhouse and listened to Elton John and Kiki Dee, I would have felt like I had been transported back to 1975.

By the time we got back home, it was close to six. Some of my friends were drinking wine, and my friend M., from NY was on her way back from drinking with her family at a bar in Tiffin. Basically, it was an evening of me being EXTREMELY sober and hanging out with people who had been drinking for hours. Since I've been getting a cold, the smartest thing I could have done, was stay home, order a pizza, lie in bed and watch a movie, but I appreciate the hell out of my friends, and I hadn't had a chance to really sit down and talk with M. for many years.

I met them at George's and I got to hear about their lives and the story of how they met. Then they asked about my relationship status. Man, I hate that question. Usually when someone asks me how my love life is, I just respond by saying, "Imaginary." I explained my latest ridiculous situations, and M. nodded, knowingly. Her husband said, that he would like me to start punching guys in the throat when it seemed that they were going to jerk me around. I told him that wasn't really my style, and he told me that I needed to think about adopting a new style. I'm sure he's right.

At ten, I still hadn't eaten, so I grabbed some Chinese take-out from around the corner and went home to chill-out by myself and eat.

Today was supposed to be a day where I didn't do much, but it wasn't to be. It was rainy when I woke-up at ten to my sister's phone call. She told me she had been waiting since 6 to call me, and she couldn't imagine waking up at ten. I told her to think back to the forty years of her life, before she had children.

I ran Stinky to the mall, then went to the Co-op for the things I get there and to Hy-Vee for the things I get there. When I finally made it home, the sky had cleared, so I ran my eight mile route through Coralville. My run was fairly uneventful, except at the end when I ran past a guy who is running for city council, who I used to call Peter Frampton when he frequented one of the coffee shops I worked at for many years. He said, "Way to go, Churlita, " and put his hand up for me to give him a high five.

My friend S. came over for dinner, and I was totally drained by then. I felt bad because I knew I was babbling and not making any sense. Finally, at nine, I had to excuse myself in an effort to try to keep the weird and lame in me from infecting her. Believe me, it was for her own good.

Now, I will attempt to sleep in hopes that I will be more socially functional tomorrow. Thank god I don't have to work a visit day this week.

Rock It Tonight

Hi, kids. Today was hectic - very, very hectic. And I am tired - very, very tired. All I'm capable of right now is doing the Saturday photo thing.

The word this week, was "rock". So, here is a photo I took of my girls and some of my friends at Hickory Hill Park, sitting on a rock. This was from about five years ago, toward the end of my stint with the really abusive guy. It was great timing that some of my friends came back to visit right then. As far as I'm concerned, everyone in that picture rocks.

Tell Me What They're Wearing This Year

Here are some snapdragons that are getting choked out, but still hanging on this late in October.

So, you know how sometimes Friday nights can be hectic? What with returning from work and then running for an hour and getting home with a thirty minutes to spare before all of your daughter's friends are supposed to come by and you still have to do a little cleaning and go to the grocery store, so you skip a shower? You hair has that whole frizz halo thing going on and you're wearing a pair of old faded jeans and a thermal that you must have spilled something on, but you don't change, because after all, you're in a two bedroom apartment with 15 eighth graders and it's so loud, that no one can see anyway.

The doorbell keeps ringing and more and more smelly teenagers enter. Finally, when the bell rings, your daughter yells, "Mommmm! Someone's here for you." Your first instinct might be to hide under your bed, but you go to the door, and there stands your good friend, fresh from NY with her husband. Your friend doesn't have any smelly teenagers, so she looks amazing. Her hair is all styled and highlighted and she's wearing the cutest plaid dress ever made, along with a pair of totally kick-ass boots. You expect to see some look of disappointment when she catches you looking like you've been wrestling hogs all day, but all she has is love and hugs and her amazing laugh.

You ask her how she found your place, and she apologizes for barging in, but she said she must have written your phone number down incorrectly, and she was so worried that she would miss you, if she didn't hunt you down. She and her husband went to the restaurant you suggested when you messaged over Myspace and then they went to a bar and asked the bartender if he knew a woman named Churlita. Of course, the bartender happened to be a guy named Brad, who, not only knew you, but could tell her how to get to your place.

After a half hour, you get to know her husband and are so happy that he seems really wonderful and in love with your friend. It always gives you hope to see that, especially when you know that your friend used to date the same kind of emotionally retarded guys that you have.

Then your other daughter calls and needs a ride for her and her friends from Blackstone where they were eating dinner, to another friend's house. You have to go, but you make plans to meet up for a drink the next night, and you know for damn sure, that you are going to clean-up and dress-up and defrizz and defunk yourself just for the occasion.

When Does it Stop, Where Do You Dare Me to Draw the Line?

Here is a fire hydrant on Market Street.

Boy, it got cooler on Wednesday and my body shut-down and went straight into hibernation mode. I didn't just not go running or leave my house, I tried not to really even move much at all. It was one of those nights where I put on the most giganticest pair of lounge pants and thermal shirt I could find, wrapped myself in blankets and drank a beer and watched the first part of a new mini series on HBO called Five Days. It's British, so the only actress I recognized was the woman who played the mom in Shaun of the Dead. So far it's really good. I just have to wait patiently for the next three installments. As you know, I'm not very good at that.

I got back to normal today. I ran after work and picked Stinky up and got stuff done before I played a little Halo 3. I still wanted to lie around and do nothing, though.

This weekend should be way busier than I want. Stinky asked if she could have kids over to watch movies and play video games for a couple of hours on Friday night. I told her it was fine, as long as they were all gone by nine.

On Saturday we're going down to the big zero (Ottumwa) to finally celebrate Stinky's birthday with my family and see my sister's new house. I'm so glad we have the iPod, so we won't be slaves to the radio and the girls and I can have a big sing-along to Duran Duran and Hall and Oates. You can quit being jealous right now, because I know you can't not sing to " I Can't Go For That"...No can do.

Hopefully, on Saturday night I'll hook-up with my friend M. who's supposed to be in from NYC. I haven't seen her in forever. When I worked at the business office at the hospital, she was working as some big wig's assistant at the NFL. She used to send me tons o' schwag. (the free logoed stuff, not the crappy weed) I'd get all kinds of great running paraphernalia and starter jackets for the girls when I was so broke I didn't know how I was going to pay my rent, let alone afford a pair of running shoes or tights. One time she was talking to me on the phone and said, "Oh, I gotta go. Jerry Jones is on the other line..." Honestly, I think I'm way more important than that joker, but her boss apparently didn't agree.

Sunday is a byweek for The Steelers, so I won't be watching football. Instead, I might have one of my many friends named Sara over for dinner. We live two blocks away from each other, and we've seen each other once since she moved back in August. How crazy is that?

Since you've read my blog before, you know the likelihood of any of these plans actually panning out, are very slim. The fun part for me, is seeing where I go and what I do instead.

Get Down Ladies You've Got Nothin' to Lose

I know I've mentioned several hundred times that I've never been lucky in love (yeah, I know - wank, wank, wank) but I've made up for it by having amazing friendships. In this post I'm not just going to tell you how awesome my friends are, I'm going to show you. This is also a post where I use the phrase, "not only" ad nauseam. I'll just go ahead and apologize for that now.

My friend A. lives in Texas and it makes me so sad. She has had to deal with me throughout both of my pregnancies. I've been told that I wasn't super bitchy while I was pregnant, but I was annoyingly spacey. If you know me, and think I'm ditzy in general, you would have hated me when I was knocked-up. Not only did A. live with me while I was pregnant with Coadster, she stayed with me during most of my labor with Stinky. She also has about the cutest boys to come out of Texas. If you thought your children were the most beautiful there were, you were wrong.

These two are the rightful owners of that title.

I've known my friend J. since we worked at The Mill together in the eighties. Not only did she coach me through the births of both my daughters, she also gave me some of her income tax refund, so I could afford to move away from my abusive ex-husband. Just so you don't think she's lost any of her awesomeness in the last ten years, here is an e-mail she just sent me this week:

Since I hadn't seen you in ages and then did, you invaded my dreams last night. You were pregnant, we were with other friends in an old hotel, kinda Shining-like, you went into labor and quickly had twins (Guadalupe and Lance???). Easy, quick deliveries (like Stinky - since I saw her too I guess). Very interesting. What do you think it means? :-)

J.

One of my many friends named Sara, just emailed to ask about a post that I wrote on the old blog and deleted in a fit of paranoia. I told her that it was gone, but that I saw her searching for words that were related to it on my site meter, and told her I was sad she didn't search for "rimming"(a private joke from years ago - believe me, you don't want to know). So, today she got on my blog, and not only used "rimming" as a search term, but also looked for: "scrotum", "delicious poops" and "wave like the bus driver". It made me laugh so hard in my cubicle, that I'm sure all my co-workers looked at each other, pointed to me and twirled their fingers around the sides of their heads, making the crazy lady sign.

On Saturday, my friend K. texted me this:

I have in my possession a size 4 skirt w/ yr name on it.

When I went over that night, not only did she and T. make me try it on, they both made a big point to tell me how cute my butt looked in it. I'm sure, they were probably being extremely charitable with their compliments because of all the wine they had been drinking, but I'll take them anyway I can get them.

The Afternoon Has Gently Passed Me By

Okay, kids. I've got some emails I really have to answer. To any of you I owe responses to, they're on their way, and sorry to be such a lame ass. So, in order to take care of business, I'm doing one of those mostly photo posts I haven't done in ages and ages. I've been so bad about going out and taking photos of weird crap in and out of town lately. It's something I'm going to try and make more time for. That pitchur takin' thing is embedded deep within my gene pool, and I just can't fight city hall.

So, this first one is of a daisy in my front yard. It's hard to see from the photo, but it is a mutant flower. There is a line of petals growing in the center, giving it a flohawk. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how much I love any version of mohawk.

This lovely vision is some snake roadkill I found on Clapp Street. Roadkill always reminds me of my brother-in-law. When the girls were younger and we'd go on road trips with my sister and her then beau, he would make a big point of showing them the dead things on the road by saying, "Hey, girls look at that raccoon. He sure looks tired..."

He also used to keep the girls from whining in the backseat, by cranking NPR anytime they asked, "How much sooner 'til we get there?" There's no faster way to shut-up a five year old, than the threat of having to listen to Car Talk.

Here I am once again obsessing about whatever the hell got caught in the drainage grate by my house.

Apparently, shadow me doesn't have any knees.

This is on Evans Street. It is the bridge over the creek that runs past my house. I guess I don't have much to say about this image but, um, there it is. Take a gander at the lovely Fall colors, why dontcha.

If You Don't Work Then You Don't Eat

This weekend it suddenly occurred to me that it was the middle of October and I hadn't really taken any Fall foliage shots. So, on Saturday when I was taking a little break from Coadster, I walked around the neighborhood and photographed some shit. Here are pretty leaves for my readers who don't live where they change color. Pretty, pretty.

Of all the many problems I do have, I'm eternally grateful that I don't have serious control issues. It seems almost everyday I have an idea of what might happen in my head, and then it all goes much differently than I had initially planned. Luckily, that kind of thing doesn't knock me to the ground in the fetal position, sucking my thumb. Although, don't get me wrong, there are plenty of things that do.

Today was another one of those, "figure out what the hell is going on and deal with it" days. As these things usually work, the end result was even better than I had anticipated. Me and another woman from my office were supposed to work in the recruitment area most of the day, but several people in our office called in sick and we were needed back at base camp. It was Monday and I wasn't in the mood to be perky and helpful and fun, so I was pretty happy that our time was cut to about two hours on the front lines.

Basically, we got down to the union and I talked to my favorite IT guy about video games and he, like everyone else, told me I should play BioShock. I told him I knew, but I was already saving up for Guitar Hero 3 and I could barely afford that. Then he got really excited and told me about another game called Rock Band, but it requires that you buy all these instruments too. I told him, I'd have to sell one of my kids to get that, and if he had mentioned it to me two hours before Homecoming last Saturday, I probably would've offered Coadster up to the highest bidder.

The rest of our time was spent taking people on tours of the dorms and answering questions and then we went to lunch at one of the dorms. Dorm food is sooooo much different than when I went to school. You can get pretty much whatever you want and it's good. One of the student tour guides who was VERY conventionally attractive, showed me and the other woman I was with, the hidden dining area they reserved for the honors students. He sat with us and told us all about his days working at Disney World. He had some great stories. He said he used to have to do the voice of Kermit the Frog, so of course, I made him do it for us. I have to say, I was pretty impressed. The conventionally attractive student and I directed parents and students to different places and answered questions and talked a bunch of shit before it was time to get back to work. I was back in the office before one, the afternoon just flew by, and I only had to be perky for a couple of hours. Sweet, sweet and sweet.

Don't Surround Yourself With Yourself

Here is Coadster with her friends, ever flashing gang signs. They must forget that they live in Iowa.

This weekend was pretty awesome too. I kind of like starting every Sunday post that way. I hope I can keep it up.

Friday night was me getting some much needed alone time. I still had to do some cleaning, and I had to give Q.'s interview questions all the time they deserved, but then I just putzed around and probably muttered to myself.

Here are her two best friends from junior high. I kind of miss seeing those girls hanging out in my living room and eating all my food.

After my haircut and my run, the rest of Saturday afternoon was devoted to meeting all of Coadster's Homecoming needs. Stinky and I tag teamed helping her get ready. We love her to death, but Coadster can be kind of a handful when she's stressed.

I had this plan that after the girls were dropped off at all their endeavors, I'd have a little staying in date with myself. So, when we went to Hy-Vee to buy a flower for Coadster's date, I picked myself up a six-pack. As we were heading to the register, a guy handing out wine samples asked, "Hey young lady, do you want a Jello shot?" Since I was with my two teenage daughters, I figured he was trying to be funny, so I asked him if he was serious, and he uncovered this container full of Jello shots. What the hell? When did they start giving out free Jello shots at the grocery store? I had to decline, because it was only three and I knew if I did one, I'd be asleep by four.

After I went to Coadster's best friend's house to take photos of all the kids, I stopped off at my friend K.'s house. She and T. were drinking wine. I was just going to stop by for a sec, and then order some Chinese take-out and go home and drink my beer and watch movies and play video games and do whatever else I wanted to do, but then my plans changed for the better. K. suggested we go to George's for beer and cheeseburgers, and what kind of idiot would say no to that? We only went down for an hour or so, and I was home by 10. Perfect.

I was just starting to play some video games, when Coadster called and asked if she could take the controllers over to their after-dance party. So, I was forced to watch a movie instead. I watched The Queen. I wasn't sure if I'd be into it, because I never got into the whole Princess Di hub bub, but it was actually pretty good.

This is Coadster and her date. Sorry it's a little dark.

Today was more football watching at The Vine. Our friend C. couldn't make it, because his grandmother died. They were pretty close, so I felt bad for him. The game was great, the Steelers won, and the other guys who watch football with us were a constant source of amusement.

The best thing about today, was that my friend K. called me later this afternoon to see if I would be her date to see Drive-By Truckers at The Englert Theater on October 19th with Dexter and his lovely lady, S. She had originally planned to go with this one guy, and as she puts it, she doesn't like him anymore. So, I'm the lucky girl now.

I know this is way too damn long, but I want to say one more thing. It's Columbus Day tomorrow, and apparently no one in Iowa celebrates it, but everyone in the Chicago area does. So, I will be away from my desk most of the day trying to sell our particular institution to several hundred parents and their high school aged children. I promise I will still try to read all of your kick-ass blogs when I get home, I just won't be able to check in until then. Pray for me.

I've Been Held Back By Something

Kids, I really tried hard to find a bug to photograph today for Evil-E's photo scavenger hunt, but it was hectic and I didn't have a lot of time. This pic I took of our garden last year, while lame because a moth isn't really a bug, will have to suffice.

Now, on to me fulfilling my promise. I got my hair cut today at a real live salon for the first time since I was seventeen. Back then, the woman in Ottumwa didn't know how to cut curly hair and she tried to layer it, and long story short, I left there crying. This time was so much better. They offered me something to drink, but I said, no thanks, because I didn't know how that all worked, and I figured it was best to keep it simple. The woman who cut my hair was really cool. She had curly hair too and knew just how to cut it. She straightened it so she could be sure to see all the thousands and millions of split ends and eradicate them.

Since my hair doesn't look all that much different than it did before - except it's not quite so damaged now, I have posted some photos of the results. Ready?

Here is me trying to be serious, but I forgot to turn the fan off, so it blew my hair all around my face. If I had been thinking, I would have turned around and finally done my Stevie Nicks impersonation that I spoke of in an earlier post.

Oh, and I do realize that I don't exactly possess one of those even, all over tans. I have an unseemly, runner's tan. On the plus side, I also don't have a strangely orange hue and I haven't cooked my insides like someone who uses a tanning bed.

Like everything else respectable that I try to do, this little photo shoot turned into a complete dork fest. Here is me making my monster face. My girls really loved this one when they were about three. Now, they just say, "Mom. Stop."

And this was supposed to be my fish face, but I had to use my hands to hold the camera, so I couldn't use them to put on each side of my face to make fins. Damn it.

I did take these on my bed, but all you can really see of it, are the purple sheets that Stinky said I should buy.

When I Was Three, I Thought the World Revolved Around Me. I Was Wrong.

Here is a man who is wearing an umbrella as a hat. He must be very practical and not at all worried what people think about him.

So, here it is. I have finally relented to answering some interview questions. This meme has been making the rounds all Summer and I've been avoiding it, because memes go against my self-diagnosed oppositional defiance disorder. Plus, I don't have a lot of time to follow the rules. But after I read Q's answers to his interview questions, I knew his own questions for me would be amazing. Like every other meme, I'm just doing to the part I like and not offering to think up questions to ask anyone else. It's not that I don't care, it's just that I'm that damn lazy. So, hold on to your hats, this could be a bumpy, dirty, extremely inappropriate ride. I can't wait.

1. My skills with sculpting silly putty into large red vaginas are known far and wide, but I have now turned my attention to sculpting with butter. Immortalizing you into a curdled milk masterpiece is next on my agenda, what pose do you choose for me to sculpt you in and what exactly are you wearing?

It's funny you should ask. I actually used to model for art classes when I was in college and then about two years ago, a guy who lives on one of my running routes, asked me to model for a drawing group. Since I had just turned forty, and figured it would be the last time anyone would pay me to take my clothes off, instead of paying me to keep them on, I did it. So, I'm over getting nehkkid for art, I think if I were going to be sculpted in butter, I would wear a French maids uniform and stand in some kind of finger wagging, toe tapping, scolding pose. Does that work for you?

2. The soundtrack of my life consists of two songs “Cum on Feel the Noise” and “Closer”, what songs would appear on your soundtrack?

Since I've lived many lives, I would need more songs than just two. Here's how my soundtrack would line-up:

a. Childhood, before my mom died - "The Grand Illusion" by Styx

b. After my mom died and we moved in with my crazy and abusive Aunt and Uncle moving from Arizona to Chicago - this would be a combination of two songs - "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns n Roses" and "Luka" by Suzanne Vega. So, maybe if you could put the lyrics to "Luka" with the music from "Jungle", it would match my life back then. Scary, I know.

c. My college years - "Rebel Rebel" by David Bowie.

d. My California years - "Party Girl" by U2

e. After my divorce when I was working 2 jobs to pay for my girls to be in daycare and I lived above a bar because it was all I could afford - "My Brain is Hanging Upside Down" by The Ramones.

f. The last few years - "Everything's Coming Our Way" by Santana. It sounds really optimistic at first, until you look closer at what "everything" could encompass.

3. During the night some magical gypsies exchange our brains, meaning that you are now in my body and I am in yours. This change is not permanent but we are not sure when the exchange back will take place. We know that all I am going to do is take hot steamy showers and make naughty films with Fringes. What would you do in/with mine?

First I'd take a few hours to get used to all the blood being diverted from my brain and sent to my penis instead. Then I'd spend some time adjusting myself and scratching my balls. After that, since it's too warm for snow, I'd go out and buy some crushed ice so I could spread it on the ground and pee my name into it. What else do penis bearing members do? Oh, I know - I suppose at some point during the day, I'd have to watch some porn, so I could make sure my new equipment was fully functional.

4. My personal memoirs are titled “Cold Popcorn/Hot Sex”, what is the title of your memoirs? And how awesome do you make me sound in them?

Mine would be titled "Hey! Shit. Wait. Whoops!: Portrait of a Spaz" and since I've never met you in person before, you would have a very prominent role in them. You would play the hott blogger guy that all the blogger chicks want to get with, but we all know it's impossible since you have the sexiest blogger girlfriend around. It would be all about my sad, unrequited love for both Q and Fringes and how I spend all of my days watching the naughty films you guys made when we exchanged bodies. There. Is that awesome enough?

5. Walking up to a woman and sticking my hand in their back pocket is my most effective pickup line, what is the best pickup line anyone has used on you?

Oh man, I can only pick one? Well, you're getting at least two anyway.

Once in the late eighties I was at a bar called The Foxhead and I'm sure I looked like I listened to a certain kind of music. Some guy walked up to me and said, "Hey. You know, I really like alternative music..."

I think I said something totally sarcastic like, "Oh my god! Really? Me too! We should totally have sex." I just remember he told me I was mean.

More recently, I was walking downtown, when some teenage, Emo boy asked, "Can you spare some change...And your phone number?" Really, nothing makes a girl feel more special than when a guy panhandles her first and then hits on her.

Oh, My, My. Oh, Hell, Yes. Honey, Put On That Party Dress

Here is a windmill peeking through some trees.

Ahhhhhhh. It's almost Friday, which is almost the weekend. I can almost relax and all I have to do is get through one stinkin', measly, eight hour work day. I should be able to do almost anything for eight hours, right? Please feel free to remind me of that throughout the day. Thank you.

So, this is the high school homecoming weekend. Coadster has her dress, and shoes and I just cut and layered her hair a little. All that's left is for me and Stinky to curl her hair and slap some make-up on her and drop her off at her pre-dance party on Saturday. Oh yeah, I'll have to take some photos of her and the boy and say lots of dorky and embarrassing things just to see exactly how hard she can roll her eyes. Maybe I'll even get a "God, Mom!" Out of her. That would totally be icing.

I finally made an appointment to have my hair cut and styled (whatever that means) this Saturday afternoon. Here's what I'll promise you, if I think it looks okay, or if it looks so bad it's funny, I'll be sure and post some photos of the finished product. If it just looks dork-ass but not in that funny way, like when I was in junior high and I tried to feather my hair but it wasn't the right kind for that, so my bangs just curled up and my brother called me gutter head. If it looks like that? Y'all are shit out of luck at getting to see a picture.

I have no idea what I'm doing this weekend. I know the girls are both going to the game and Stinky is sleeping over at a friend's house and Coadster is going to IHOP - apparently, that's where they hang now. I guess it's better than hanging out at a kegger on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere like we did in high school.

Okay, then. I'm off before I get all excited and tell you I beat Stinky's high score in Centipede by over 4,000 points tonight.

Adorable Illusion and I Cannot Hide

Here is a picture of a big (ahem) rooster.

So, I know I said I've been kicking around the idea of dating again. I guess what that means for me, is that one day I think I'll be able to make the effort, and the next it seems too overwhelming and I'm pretty sure I'd be happier just staying home and doing my own thing. It's a huge understatement to say that I haven't had the best luck with men. I am very willing to look at my part in not only getting in, but staying in really stupid and lame situations. To that end, my friends have been good at helping me figure out what I'm doing wrong. Because they are my friends, and because they really care about me, they tell me exactly what they think. Here are some of my friends' observations from the last six months or so.

This first part is an e-mail transaction from my friend GW one day at work.

GW: Hey, A. (her boyfriend) and I were just talking, and we've decided that maybe you shouldn't be allowed to pick your own boyfriends. Don't take this the wrong way, but you know you haven't made the best decisions in the past.

Me: I know. The thing is, that these guys all seem to present themselves one way at first, and then once I'm hooked, they all suddenly change everything they originally said. And so I keep waiting for the nice guy who told me he wanted to be in a relationship to come back. I guess I've always been a sucker for false hope...

GW: Maybe you just need someone around to remind you to run and don't look back at whatever point the guy starts airing out his crazy around you.

On another day, I was relating that e-mail message to my friend Kris. I told her that I thought there was some validity in what GW said, but a few years ago, I let my best friend set me up with a guy and he turned out to be the most abusive man of all.

Kris: That's because your best friend is a man, and most guys just choose the hottest girls they think they can get without worrying about whether they'll be compatible or smart or sane. You need your girlfriends to hook you up, because they'll look for someone you might actually be able to have a relationship with. Seriously, you are generous and conscientious to a fault and you're fun too. You deserve to be with someone who isn't too stupid to appreciate you.

My friend A. told me that it seemed to her that I didn't think I could date someone nice and normal. In my defense, I do think I could date someone nice, if only I could find a guy like that. I agree with her that I don't know if I could date someone totally normal. I know I'm weird and a guy who didn't have any quirks wouldn't get me and I wouldn't get him and I'd probably be bored fairly quickly. One of my many friends named Sara said that there were two ways for a guy not to be boring, one was to be fun and strange and have his own interests, the other was to be difficult, and that I had a hard time distinguishing between the two. I'll give her that. It's hard to know where quirky ends and where crazy begins sometimes.

So, after all this, my new bed and blankets and jammies and TV and XBox are looking pretty good. Say, wasn't I talking about going to therapy a while back?