Hope

Sloppy

The online edition of our newspaper states the "weather is about to turn sloppy." I can't think of a more fitting analogy to myself. It was a long day at work with Snowflake. One of those days where you wake up with Mr. Super Incredibly Crabby Pants morphing into the Veruca Salt of the toddler world.

First he dumped his fruit on the floor. Then he spilled a complete container of chocolate milk in the carpeted office waiting room. The little television zombie just wasn't satisfied with any of the 100 plus channels offered by DirecTV. Next came riding on his new garbage truck that states right on the top "Don't use as a children's vehicle seat!"

Could you hear him across the miles screeching in his special teradactyl frequency?

Oh, I was ready to send him right to the moon in his adorable cardboard rocketship that "Santa" brought. Five o'clock came and we left, he of the demonic possession falling immediately asleep upon hearing the turn of the ignition.

Free at last, free at last!

On behalf of Snowflake I do have to say he isn't normally so bratty. What I'm worried about is what they say... "Two isn't so bad, It's THREE you've gotta watch out for".

Is three the magic number? Is it?

Yesterday I had the day off so I cleared the casa of every last remnant of Christmas, lights, decorations, garland. All packed away in trunks until next time. It looks positively Spartan in here. And I like it. I can breathe. I know for a fact that if I had the money, I would be a pure minimalist.

Like the impending weather, I'm not feeling minimalist. I could be a bit of everything. A little rain, a little snow, some ice. I'm warm and melancholy from a demijon of wine and the truffles, Zsa-Zsa.

Yeah, on a night like tonight, after a day like today, I could turn completely sloppy.

Saturday Drama

I Wish I Could

Gift

Christmas morning is quiet when it's just the two of you. The neighborhood was deserted and we were alone together. Snowflake got into his highchair and ate some fruit, not knowing Santa had marked the living room, like a naughty pug.

Stepping outside late in the morning, I noticed the crunch in the air. Slushy snow has now solidified into ice, trapping the important part of the pooper scopper until the Spring thaw. I took Charlie out first because he is The King.

I love that dog. He is virtually the same as the day I brought him home, only bigger. I was happy to have him by my side on this lonely feeling day. He sniffed around and did exactly what is expected.

It's weird not having plans on Christmas. Christmas at my parents was last night and today we had not one plan other than Snowflake unwrapping presents from Santa. I just felt very sorrowful being just we two. No visitors, nothing.

On the way back into the house, laying square in my path on the driveway was a delicate gorgeous bird's nest, bulit from grass and red pine needles. It was right at my feet. I couldn't believe it. I didn't see it on the way out. Timing, timing.

I almost started to cry, laughing, remembering years ago when my brother, his girlfriend and I went out to get Christmas trees. I picked this smallish, wispy Charlie Brown number and my brother cut it down.

On the way to the car, I spied the tiniest, most fragile bird's nest made out of thin gray blades of grass once green snuggled in my tree. We marveled at this demure treasure.

"That's a sign of good fortune in the New Year," Brooke told me, smiling.

I scooped up this intricate wonder off the drive way, walking with a spring back into the house, placing it on a branch that holds a small dried wasp's nest in my breezeway.

I couldn't help but feel hopeful.

In the Company of Pussies

Eight inches of heavy, wet snow. Slush at the bottom. Me swearing. Loudly. I tried to be the good mommy and make a snowman, but my hands got cold and all we have is a faceless snowthing.

If it weren't for my snowblower I probably would have killed myself. I'm just sad. And mad.

Pissed off because a present for my parents I ordered two weeks ago was just shipped on Monday and is now sitting in Chicago. FUCKERS.

Snowflake jammed the door on the DVD player and I called him on it. I told him his actions totally sucked.

This made me cry later and the pugs, who I am also currently pissed off at, tried to comfort me with a point blank sneeze of concern. I will not take it to my bald headed "amigo" who stood me up on Thursday to be fixed.

If it's one thing I can't stand it's men who are total pussies.

Neighbor's

Cake

Earlier this wonderful evening, my 27 year old 'still a virgin' neighbor "girl" delivered this unusual chocolatey surprise to my doorstep. She made one for Steaming Cup of Matt's house as well.

I haven't had one because I'm either going to leave it for Snowflake to witness, or most likely take it to work for our 'office party', telling the guys that these cupcakes were crafted by the hand of a 27 year old virgin.

These cakes are fresh and moist(I hate that word) with a heady aroma displaying a nice dollop of frosting. You can totally see the orgy going on with the candy. I can't imagine what they'll say...

I was so turned on I had to memorialize it into a holiday header.

We need more things made out of cupcakes.

Spirit

Here I am. A.L.L.A.L.O.N.E. for the night. You know the old line about dancing like no one is watching, well I seized the moment. Amid wrapping presents with SF tucked safely away at Nan's for the night, I jammed in my living room.

I BLASTED the Bose Sound Dock. BLASTED IT.

I danced like a rabid moshing coked up stripper.

Vertigo & Smells Like Teen Spirit.

That's all it took for me to break a sweat, take a break and smell like teen spirit.

Peels

Is it wrong of me to be sitting here, one Sam Adams later, contemplating a chemical peel for my 38th birthday?

I mean, who wouldn't want,
"...dramatic improvement in the surface of your skin - fewer fine wrinkles, fewer blemishes, and more even-toned skin. Your results will be long-lasting, although not immune to the effects of aging and sun exposure."

Right now, I want one. But then I think, "Remember that episode of 'Sex & The City'?"

Yeah, no thanks.(But you know, we probably have completely different skin...)

Just One More

I live in a state where the general population of its citizens think nothing of drinking to excess well into old age. When I think about it, they're damn lucky they've made it to old age at all.

The culture, with its glorious hop headed past(think Milwaukee, LaCrosse), revels in partying. I graduated from one of the top ten partying universities in the nation. I think the year I graduated we were #1. The Packers, your birthday, that zit finally being gone, funerals or any rough day after work can all be considered "just" catalysts to imbibe.

Habitual boozing always reminds me of a billboard in a small northern town where two factories employ the general population:"Life begigns with a bottle- Don't let it end with one".

I live in a town where the local paper prints the police log and county court cases. It is not unusual to find people being charged with their fourth or fifth, and once in a blue moon sixth and seventh OWI's. My dad, a Bud Man until the day he dies contests that locking these people up is not the answer.

I beg to differ.

How can habitual drunken drivers be left to their own judgement? they can't. EVER. Take for example the tragedy that befell an innocent soul just the night before last.

In the evening, a local Sheriff's Deputy noticed a truck driving with no headlamps and maneuvering erractically. He turned on his lights and pursued the vehicle that cruised right through two stop signs at fairly busy intersections before slamming into the passenger side of a van, killing the 34 year old driver. This took a mere 16 seconds from the moment the cop saw the truck.

The passenger in the van, along with the drunken driver and her passenger survived.

It turns out the 26 year old drunken driver had three previous OWI's and other charges involving cocaine. Her court case for these previous charges is scheduled for December 28. Oh, and P. Period. Fucking. S. ...they found a small amount of cocaine in her vehicle.

This girl will be the shining example to others like her. She is looking at 55years maximum based soley on these new charges.

I'm not a tea-totaler. There were numerous times when I was single and a little crazed and I DID drive when I definitely should not have. With a sweet two year as my ward now, how could I possibly EVER consider driving under the influence? I can't. No way, no how.

I can remember my parents driving home from my grandparents on the holidays(we lived about an hour and a half away) completely wasted in the seventies. It was just so accepted then. I would bawl and BEG my gradmother to let me stay. My parents taught me what not to do when you have a child of your own by their thoughtless actions.

I may talk like an ass and say I want to catch a buzz or get loaded, but the fact is, I've grown up. Not everyone does. If I'm not a good example for Snowflake, what chance does he have? Sometimes I think we're better off moving away.

What is the answer? As anyone with an addict in the family will tell you, each one has to hit their own bottom. How can we continue to support this "Culture of the Drink" while innocent people die everyday because of it?

Still Dreaming...

Of a White Christmas.

My backyard. The chairs came from someone's garbage. The screendoor, off my own casa. The address, off of my grandparent's old house. The door and the house plaque are wired to a wire fence that is thick with a scrubby grapevine in the summer.

Half Empty

I can't imagine my life without my mother. I hate to think about it. If I didn't have her, I can only really think of one other person who would give me emotional support and it's not my dad.

She stopped in at the office today after her physical just to "give Snowflake a hug". Nothing unusual or weird. Then she casually mentions that her new doctor said her cervix was inflamed and that he scheduled an appointment with a gynecologist for her tomorrow.

Tomorrow! He must think something is hideously wrong because that's fricking fast. Normally they'll say we'll check you in a month or two and blah blah blah. Not this time.

This combined with her constant lower backache and two other instances of weird unexplained abdominal pain lead me, Dr.-Heidi-Everything-is-Fucked-Up, to naturally assume the worst.

It's one of a few things I'm good at. So all afternoon I've been reading about inflamed cervixs' and thinking tomorrow my mother is going to find out she's terminal. Merry F-ing Christmas. As usual, Worst Case Scenario is where I've steered the ship.

As my polish grandmother would have said "So goes..." And now I wait.


PS... Sorry about blabbing about your cervix all over my little corner of the web, Mom.

Breaking the Silence

I've never been the kind of person to just rip big farts in front of the people I love. I would freak on a road trip or any trip with the family when one of them would let fly the stank of ass. I mean you should never shit your pants in close quarters where there is no escape from the stench! Geez, I was sooo delicate. I thought it was so rude. In any of the relationships I had, I never felt comfortable enough to just let it fly.

Funny how time and having a baby changes your perspective. When a good friend of mine went on a romantic trip to Mexico with the man she would marry(the first trip they took together, early in the relationship), they suffered Montezuma's Revenge. Taking a shower together, cringing at first when one of them "accidentally" let it slip and then deciding it was funny and beyond their control, they couldn't help it but gas it up. I told her that it must be true love.

I have chilled out on the functions of the human body. For example, on Thanksgiving I made these crazy delish blue cheese scalloped potatoes(which also contained a ton of caramelized onions). I was at my parents and everyone had left. My stomach was in knots. The first few times I ran to the bathroom in excruciating pain and experienced these ridiculous cartoon blowouts of enormous proportions. Gawd, where did that come from?!

I couldn't make it to the bano for the next wild backfires, so a few times I let it go in front of my mother. She was shocked.

"Geez, Heid! WOW! I thought you didn't 'do that' in public!" she sarcastically quipped.

I told her I thought I was going to die and apologized.

Last night I had dinner with The Godfather who was home from Miami. We went to this little place and I ordered the veggie kabobs as usual. When we returned to my parents cottage, I felt the need to crack one. It wasn't too obnoxious, sort of 'silent but deadly'.

"Did you fart?" he says surprised.

"Um, yeah. Sorry, my stomach hurts."

"I can't believe you just did that! Remember when we were in Target and you just cracked one? God, it was so loud!"

"Not really. I must have did it for the shock value. Don't you fart in front of A(his significant other)?" I ask.

"No, we usually go in the other room."

This is after dating/living together for three years. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I've never done it, but I always thought when you were in a real relationship this is something that you just did. I'm not talking 'dutch ovening' or anything, but if you go to the bathroom in front of someone, what's a little gas between lovers?

Obviously this is a highly explosive subject.

Snowy Holiday Balls

We have no snow on the ground


So I'm enjoying the past

Snowman

Two Years Ago, Sweet and Demure
Now a Yeti(sometimes abominable)

Boy Winter

Christmas Tree Farm

A Danish I Could Eat

Do I cook? Not often. Can I cook? Yes, for sure. Do I like pretty things even though I may not use them? Yes. It began in November when the Danish designer Tord Boontje graced Target with his gorgeous, old fashioned yet mod Christmas designs. Pristine and elegant paper chandeliers drip from the ceiling and his graphics sprinkle across every occupiable space.

It started simply enough. Oh, I'll just get some of this cool intricate looking paper garland for my Christmas party. I bought two. These look like the painstakingly paper cut out art known as scherenschnitte to me, only funkier. Then yesterday I decided to get this other funky red metallic garland with his cool trademark icons dangling out from the fluff. It looks so kick ass.

I obsessed all night. Looking at Target's website and then contemplating yet another trip to its delectable innards in the morning. I was contemplating the Christmas porcelain dishes he created exclusively for Target. Oh, I have Christmas dishes, cool ones. But not this cool.

If you want to buy Tord Boontje dinnerware at Unica Home or Modern Poverty, one place setting will set you back at least $100(one din-din plate is around $58). It varies, some sites are more expensive than others. How could I possible pass up the Target version, eerily similar, yet not of the same high quality to be sure for only $19.99 for four, on sale?! Damn, you Target, you filthy, lusty whore! You turn me into a junkie for design.

Design for all, indeed!

Tord isn't bad himself in that art school guy kind of way. Maybe you've seen him in the commercials. What struck me is what Linda Hales wrote about him in The Washington Post on November 26-

"Boontje was working at the cutting edge of minimalist design until 2000, when the birth of a daughter sent him on a search for fantasy and warmth. Four years later, at the Milan Furniture Fair, he hit his stride. At the invitation of the Italian design company Moroso, Boontje produced an installation of lighting and cutout fabrics, and the event, called "Happy Ever After," catapulted him to international stardom."

Should I say I usually find fantasy and warmth in a bottle of Vodka?

Oh, the mighty power of babies. Ahhhhhh...

As I was dreamily staring off into the kaliedescope of saucers, Snowflake dumped his entire bag of popcorn on the floor. A fat lady walked through it and said, "I wonder where that came from".

"From him," I smiled, distant and glazed, reaching for the first box to examine its contents. You cannot see just how cool this is from a photograph.

So yes, I now have service for four. And a candelabra. I had to substitute a few other colored bowls to complete the look as it was already partially sold out. Can you see where this is headed?

What if I actually have more than two guests one day? I'm definitely going to need service for at least eight. So tomorrow I am off to scour the countryside for the remnants of reasonable design. I want the wineglasses and more matching bowls as well. This could be an all day deal. I may just skip our chance to attempt a stab at the Guinness World Record.

Repossession

I remember when I met him. He worked for the city. He was that succulent shade of summer that you want to run your hands across barebacked. That was about all he had going for himself. Fresh out of a divorce, he was looking for a place to call home with his half pit-retriever and alley cat.

I sold him a repossessed 16 x 70 manufactured home. The floorplan wasn't bad but it had the previously trendy shade of mobile home mauve as its running theme. Mauve plush carpeting, mauve in the vinyl covered paneling and flecks of mauve in the formica. If mauve is indeed the color for romance and relaxing, he should have been blissed out.

But he wasn't.

He was a nervous chatterer. A lonely, thick haired natural blonde. Sadness. It was palpable in his Basset Hound eyes, glassy and desperate. A chain smoker whose lungs had to be the same shade as the roads he worked on. Tar lips. Kind of sexy in a rogue-ish way.

I smoked then as well and sometimes I was the recepticle for more of his miserable meanderings as we stood on the office deck in the fading hazy sun of August. I knew he was attracted to me. Somewhere I was thinking why me? My co-worker and I would make fun of his raspy voice after he left the office or called on the phone to check the status of his loan.

He got the house. That rieking house dripping of cat piss and pink passion. I was more excitied about the "bonus points" from the finance company for selling the repo. Yeah, I was finally going to get that fucking Nambe Tri-Corner bowl AND the kissing salt and pepper shakers for NOTHING. All because of him.

Then he asked me to dinner and I politely refused. It was after the loan closed and I turned him down that he called very pissed off saying the house stunk. Really? We had no idea since no mention was made before. In the hot stagnant air of August I don't know how ANYONE could have missed it. It made my eyes burn.

Last week he came into the office. It was almost like that line from the song by Dan Fogleberg that goes," Met my old lover in the grocery store, the snow was falling Christmas Eve" but it wasn't. So much time had passed it was weird. I had Snowflake and he had two heart attacks.

The sadness was still there in those brown Junior Mint eyes. He just kept talking and talking and talking. I let him. Have you ever felt that it could make a difference for someone if you just let them talk? It was that kind of sadness. He needed an appraisal on the cat piss house and I said I would have John call him.

He stopped in this afternoon. He was driving a mini hillbilly limo- an early 90's Ford Ranger transformed into a weird platform truck with one of those strange bars that come up behind the cab. I assume these are for busty redneck women to hang on to while 'mudboggin'. It was navy blue and rusty, the only shine coming from the plastic chrome naked lady silhouettes stuck on the back window. A Petronas like antenna reaching defiantly into the lower atmosphere proclaimed his subliminal manhood.

He was back.

I was busy retouching photographs and John handled the situation. No need for me to interrupt the dialog. He hung himself next to the door looking down at me. I could smell stale cigarette smoke emanating from him. With Snowflake perched on my lap, he joked and asked me if I was running a daycare and could he drop off his two granchildren named Blah and Blah. I was really trying to tune him out. I laughed in that spaced out 'I'm on the computer' kind of way and he left.

John and I laughed as soon as the door was closed.

"Jesus, Heid! How does it feel to get hit on by a grandpa! Holy shit", he razzed.

I was relieved he was gone. I almost felt sorry enough for him to invite him to my Christmas party. His presence felt like a repossession. Remembering how it felt to be around him or someone like him. Suffocating. It was heavy and forlorn.

I felt happy to eat alone tonight.

MsMamma A-Z

Thankfully Heidi & Christine sent this meme, since I am so devoid of postable topics and time lately. Thanks ladies!

Do you really want to know?


A - Available/single? Single, never marred by engagement nor matrimony.
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B - Best Friend? The Godfather AKA The Miami Manhunk
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C- Cake or Pie? cupcakes
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D - Drink Of Choice? usually agua, but if we're talking booze, a mimosa or red zinfandel or good vodka w/ seltzer, a little Rose's, a little olive juice and big fat olives.
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E - Essential Item You Use Everyday? Tooth floss at least 2x a day
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F - Favorite Color? green, dirty chocolate brown
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G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? Neither. I don't like gummi candy or fruit roll ups or jelly beans etc.
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H - Hometown? Milwaukee Wisconsin
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I - Indulgence? Something Kind, just kidding. Hmm... Chocolate and if I could get some real clotted cream, well, I'd slather myself in it.
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J - January Or February? February is my month of "solar return" ha ha, that is my birthday.
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K - Kids & Their Names? I have a little guy that I call Snowflake, real name True. Shhhhh...don't tell.
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L - Life Is Incomplete Without? Music and chocolate. (I must add "laughter" as well.)
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M - Marriage Date? Hello~! Single girl here.
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N - Number Of Siblings? One (1) brother who shares my birthday(5 years younger), one brother deceased, aged 28.
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O - Oranges Or Apples? Apples, fat Granny Smith's fresh and snappy. Impossible to find here, so local Cortlands and Macs have to do. In general I don't like red apples.
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P - Phobias/Fears? Centipedes, other large bugs, bad teeth.
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Q - Favorite Quote? "Live! Live! Live! Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving" -Rosalind Russell as Auntie Mame
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R - Reason to Smile(or gag) - Something to blog about, a post for later just happened.
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S - Season? Autumn. Or Spring in Madison WI when the trees are blooming in front of the historical society.
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T - Tag Three or Four People? Give it a go. Leave a note and I'd love to read your list!
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U- Unknown Fact About Me? Although I'm a vegetarian, I love the smell of a steak grilling in the summer.
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V - Vegetable you don’t like? Love em all, babies!
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W - Worst Habit? Biting my nails(sometimes I grow them out), generally skeptical
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X - X-rays You’ve Had? Teeth
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Y - Your Favorite Food? pan fried noodles with chili sauce
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Z - Zodiac Sign? Aquarius.

Vote for Snowflake

Ugh. I spent the entire day processing photographs I took yesterday in CS2. I took Christmas photographs for two families and they turned out really, really well. I am excited for them to see them. As I am doing it as a favor, I just burned them to discs for them to take to a printer.

I took some photographs of Snowflake last night for, I don't know... Our Christmas card. I'm having a hard time deciding if I want to plague people with yet another photograph of him. I mean, I love him. I think the world of him. Is it getting old yet? I guess I don't really give a shit. I dig them. Maybe I could use some advice on which one to use this year. Nah. I also have ANOTHER series with him wearing a funky hat, but I did the hat thing last year. BORING but cute.


Snowflake says he's a aweet little dude


Cute, but too Calista Flockhart = Kinda Creepy


Chubby Cherub

Vegetarian on Bearskin

The Year That Blew

I never realized just HOW bad of a year 1987 was musically until I saw Bruce Willis on this list. 1987 blew, BIG TIME, thanks Mr. Gabriel. The idea from J is to take the top 100 songs from the year you graduated high school and bold the ones you liked, scratch the ones you hated and leave those you feel neutral about. Honestly, I don't even recall who some of these people are or what the hell song that is. I thought we were sooooo cooooool. Wrong! This isn't pretty.

Thanks for giving me the motivation to learn the code for striking though, J! I always wondered, now I know.

1987


1. Walk Like An Egyptian Bangles
2. Alone Heart
3. Shake You Down Gregory Abbott
4. I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me) Whitney Houston
5. Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now Starship
6. C'est La Vie Robbie Nevil
7. Here I Go Again Whitesnake
8. The Way It Is Bruce Hornsby and the Range
9. Shakedown Bob Seger
10.Livin' On A Prayer Bon Jovi
11. La Bamba, Los Lobos
12. Everybody Have Fun Tonight, Wang Chung
13. Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House
14. Always Atlantic Starr
15. With Or Without You, U2
16. Looking For A New Love, Jody Watley
17. Head To Toe Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
18. I Think We're Alone Now Tiffany
19. Mony Mony, Billy Idol
20. At This Moment Billy Vera and The Beaters
21. Lady In Red Chris De Burgh
22. Didn't We Almost Have It All Whitney Houston
23. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, U2
24. I Want Your Sex, George Michael
25. Notorious, Duran Duran
26. Only In My Dreams, Debbie Gibson
27. (I've Had) The Time Of My Life Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes
28. The Next Time I Fall Peter Cetera and Amy Grant
29. Lean On Me Club Nouveau
30. Open Your Heart, Madonna
31. Lost In Emotion Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
32. (I Just) Died In Your Arms Cutting Crew
33. Heart And Soul, T'pau
34. You Keep Me Hangin' On Kim Wilde
35. Keep Your Hands To Yourself Georgia Satellites
36. I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me) Aretha Franklin and George Michael
37. Control, Janet Jackson
38. Somewhere Out There, Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram
39. U Got The Look, Prince
40. Land Of Confusion Genesis
41. Jacob's Ladder Huey Lewis and The News
42. Who's That Girl, Madonna
43. You Got It All, Jets
44. Touch Me (I Want Your Body), Samantha Fox
45. I Just Can't Stop Loving You Michael Jackson and Siedah Garrett
46. Causing A Commotion, Madonna
47. In Too Deep Genesis
48. Let's Wait Awhile, Janet Jackson
49. Hip To Be Square Huey Lewis and the News
50. Will You Still Love Me? Chicago
51. Little Lies, Fleetwood Mac
52. Luka, Suzanne Vega
53. I Heard A Rumour, Bananarama
54. Don't Mean Nothing Richard Marx
55. Songbird, Kenny G
56. Carrie Europe
57. Don't Disturb This Groove, System
58. La Isla Bonita, Madonna
59. Bad Michael Jackson
60. Sign 'O' The Times, Prince
61. Change Of Heart, Cyndi Lauper
62. Come Go With Me Expose
63. Can't We Try Dan Hill
64. To Be A Lover, Billy Idol
65. Mandolin Rain, Bruce Hornsby and the Range
66. Breakout, Swing Out Sister
67. Stand By Me, Ben E. King
68. Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Genesis
69. Someday, Glass Tiger
70. When Smokey Sings, ABC
71. Casanova, Levert ??????????
72. Rhythm Is Gonna Get You Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine
73. Rock Steady, Whispers ????????????
74. Wanted Dead Or Alive Bon Jovi
75. Big Time, Peter Gabriel
76. The Finer Things, Steve Winwood
77. Let Me Be The One Expose
78. Is This Love Whitesnake
79. Diamonds, Herb Alpert
80. Point Of No Return Expose
81. Big Love, Fleetwood Mac
82. Midnight Blue, Lou Gramm
83. Something So Strong, Crowded House
84. Heat Of The Night, Bryan Adams
85. Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You, Glenn Medeiros ?????
86. Brilliant Disguise, Bruce Springsteen
87. Just To See Her Smokey Robinson
88. Who Will You Run Too Heart
89. Respect Yourself, Bruce Willis
90. Cross My Broken Heart, Jets ????
91. Victory Kool and The Gang
92. Don't Get Me Wrong, Pretenders
93. Doing It All For My Baby, Huey Lewis and The News
94. Right On Track, Breakfast Club
95. Ballerina Girl, Lionel Richie
96. Meet Me Half Way, Kenny Loggins
97. I've Been In Love Before, Cutting Crew
98. (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right To Party, Beastie Boys
99. Funkytown, Pseudo Echo
100. Love You Down, Ready For The World

One Thing Is Certain

I am indecisive and impulsive. Last night it was Kinder Eggs. Today it was Cannoli. I'm glad I held myself back and saved 150 pesos. And the pounds. I don't need anymore ass. Thanks to Snowflake my disposable income goes to more disposable paper products.

I'm going for a walk.

Popcourn

I've always thought English spellings were so much cooler, more elegant than American. We spell with 'zees' instead of 'esses' like

analyze analyse
criticize criticise
memorize memorise

It just seems so JETHRO to me. It looks assy and brutish.

Rather, I would like to say that my favourite colour is like the centre of the wooded green I dreamt of last night, in my cozy pyjamas. Or the tyres on my old MG were black as night. I loved the glove box.

I am going to start my own list.

popcourn

It just seems right.

3

From The Curiosity Killer, living like Carrie Bradshaw in Hong Kong ;)

1.
3 Things that scare me: Religious Fanatics, thought of losing my family, centipedes crawling over me in my sleep and biting me
2.
3 People who make me laugh: Snowflake, The Cynical Girl, Dave Attel
3.
3 Things I love: japanese landscaping, good writing, and food
4.
3 Things I hate: sex crimes, people who don't recycle anything, brawny assheads who drive pimped out monster trucks with "get 'er done" bumper stickers on them
5.
3 Things I don’t understand: religious pride, dirty violence, malicious intent
6.
3 Things on my desk: a vintage tape dispenser(very heavy and art deco looking), a stapler that I glued all kinds of buttons onto that I got from my dead granny, Snowflake(on my knee leaning on the desk top drinking juice).
7.
3 Things I’m doing right now: staring past the computer out the window, blogging and watching "Charlie & Lola".
8.
3 Things I want to do before I die: Have a real job/profession/specialty/success, see Snowflake as a man with children of his own, feel completely comfortable with myself.
9.
3 Things I can do: Cook, make my own art, create a pleasing living environment
10.
3 Things I can’t do: Allow Snowflake to be around meatheads, add, subtract, multiply or divide more than the simplest of numbers in my head, drive a motocycle
11.
3 Things I think you should listen to: your conscience, the sound of the call to prayer in the blackness of the early morning hours in an Islamic country, and any ocean, live and in person.
12.
3 Things you should never listen to: mean gossips, Conservative Talk Radio, and (agreeing with JellyJules) "People who say there’s something wrong with you because of who you are".
13.
3 Things I’d like to learn: Drive a motorcycle, sail a boat, knitting
14.
3 Favorite foods: chocolate, spring rolls, cold sesame noodles(or pan fried noodles with soy and chili sauce).
15.
3 Beverages I drink regularly: spring water, Orangina, wine.
16.
3 Shows I watched as a kid: (ONLY 3??) shows by Syd & Marty Kroft(like Dr. Shrinker, Land of the Lost, Sigmund the Sea Monster), Square Pegs, The Little Rascals & The Three Stooges.

Live

I'm on four hours of sleep all in the spirit of the Holiday Season. I find myself now blankly staring at the blinking cursor as I drink Blue Moon Pumpkin Ale. That cursor reminds me of a stupid woman batting her long lashes like a cartoon doe.

I just got home and actually let out a sigh of relief and a silent cheer in my mind when I opened my beaded handbag and spied the mini cluster of Archer Farms Macaroons I bought earlier at Target. So that's what I'm eating, ale and cookies.

Snowflake slumbers above. I was awake until four AM, decorating my abode, lights, wreaths, garland, etc. Earlier in the day my mom came down and helped me wash my windows.

I have ancient windows, grided with self storing storms that were once painted by the School of the Blind. Decrepid and scorched like the Black Rock Desert, the glazier's putty falls off in big chunks if you tap the window just right or slam it.

You'd never know they were such massive pieces of shit to look at them now, clear as crystal and sparkley, refelecting every angle of my handiwork. I decided to sleep on the couch since Nana took Snowflake to bed eons earlier. My sofa felt like a cocoon, it spooned me and accepted my every angle. Ahhhhhhhh.

I wore my glasses for awhile after I removed my contact lenses just to appreciate the streetlight flooding my living room in stunning digital quality. It was the equivalent of Ella Fitzgerald breaking the wine glass for Memorex. Beautiful.

I am so happy to enjoy this silence, minus the sea shell like sound of the downstairs toilet running. Jiggle, jiggle, stop. These are the best cookies and one of the best beers EVER, eventhough it's raining.

Pensive Concrete

Blue Friday

Thanksgiving

we are branches sprouting from the same trunk

Thankful

Everyday is a day to be thankful, it's only highlighted once a year. Five years ago, Snowflake was a figment of my imagination. Someone I never knew would exist and when I look at him now, I can't imagine that he never did.

Kids at two are something else. Along with the trying times come some of the cutest, most unforgettable moments. I love his little squished chipmunk voice. I adore his long surfer curls that everyone says need to be cut. When he hugs me with his velvety chunk arms I melt. We have always been together, just the two of us.

I don't miss my childless days. I know some moms need a break, a few hours here or there. I can understand. I don't get that though. I have nowhere to take him or anyone I would want to leave him with even if I wanted to. We go through it all together. Our bond is stronger because of it. He has taught me all about patience.

Five years ago a little two year old girl lost her mother. In one of the most traumatic situations I can imagine, her mother was stabbed in the heart and died on the kitchen floor. People say that Ava didn't witness her mother's murder. She tried to wake her mommy up and sustained herself by getting cereal with her blood stained hands and nursing from her mother's corpse.

I nursed Snowflake until he was a little over two.

They say she was alone with her mother's corpse for 24-36 hours. Christa Worthington was a single mother, like me late in life. Her baby was her world. I feel so sick when I think of that little girl trying to wake her mom up. I can't imagine that scene if it were Snowflake.

Imagine the horror that it was supposedly Christa's garbage man who murdered her. Do I discontinue the chocolate? Not funny, but it makes me think. Small gestures of kindness can be interpreted the wrong way by different people. But being kind makes the world a better place. This is what I want to teach him.

This story haunts me. My worst fear is that something will happen to me and I won't know what happens to Snowflake. Ava is now seven and being raised by her mother's good friends.

Everyday I hug him tightly and thank the Universe for bringing this lucky star to me. I can't imagine my life without him. I am so thankful for that hug. It's priceless.

Real American Hero

I am no expert on men, but there is something to the phrase "the way to a man's heart is through his tum-tum". One may wonder how I feel qualified to say this. It is so simple it comes down to one word of your choice: Chocolate or Candy.

Yesterday when I got home from work my dumpster was emptied of it's horrific contents(lots of poop, I may add, all bagged in various forms) and sitting neatly at the curbside. I didn't put it out.

How curious that garbage pickup isn't until this morning.

My Super Sanitation Worker took it upon himelf to go and GET my dumpster and empty it early for the holiday week. He does this a few times a year when I forget that pick-up is early. What a guy! What service! All for a little gift of chocolate or candy I leave him right around Christmas.

Thanks Mr. Super Duper Garbage Man!

Poo-Poo-Tsk-Tsk

In my carefree and careless days before Snowflake, I would walk the dogs. Hardcore. They pooped. I kept walking. Screw that, I'm not picking it up, I thought. Sometimes I did if they crapped in the neighbor's yard otherwise I'd walk after dark when no one could see the hunching haunches.

I was a taxpayer with no children in the school district and I retardedly rationalized my behaviour. I was in the best physical shape of my life.

Enter Snowflake.

Snowflake now accompanies on walks and I have to teach "Good Citizen" behavior. They poop and I scoop. Snowflake poops and I scoop. This is getting old!

I am now reformed for the most part, unless I run out of bags.
Let's just say they (all) have very healthy digestive systems, especially The Chidler. In Karmic justice, I'm flabbier because I can't walk as much, as far, or as fast now with Kananga(that's James Bond for Snowflake).

I know, I know. I should have shoveled all that shit to begin with.

A Load of Bull

I have a shortie for Bulwer-Lytton-

"It had been so long since she loved fully, hers was the icy heart of a half microwaved burrito."

Or a line from my world famous as yet unreleased biography.

Ahoy!

'Tis Sunday and I scored two one pound bags of Pirate Pearls at BigLots. Arrrrrrrr! Yummy.

S.O.S. Cradito

Where are you my little Georgia Peach? I've been wondering about you for quite some time. Your email quit functioning many moons ago. And your blog, well we won't go into that. What can I do? I think you know my email, so please drop me a line soon. Tonight I lit up the little burner you sent me last year, and it made me miss you. The wax squares smell so good. Thank you friend. I hope you are somewhere warm and happy. I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving. XO

Blazing

Earlier this week I had to go to Fleet Farm for some pet supplies. As the saying goes in these parts, "If Fleet doesn't have it, you don't need it." Right. Snowflake and I grabbed what we needed and decided to mill around the other foreign areas.

We checked out the Toyland for which they are famous. Rows and rows of towering toys and a huge selection of (big surprise) John Deer tractors made a store within the store. Snowflake scored a really cute micro die cast red Farmall tractor with trailer. It thrills him to fill it with peanuts, coins, water, whatever.

We meandered over to the sporting goods section because I wanted to see if they carried toddler snowshoes(they didn't). In the main aisle that headed back to the light of day, there was a magnificent span of blaze orange long sleeve t-shirts, all the same. It was hilarious to watch these grayed and burly post middle agers looking through them to decide on which one to buy.

These are apparently serious decisions around here. Today is the opening day of the gun deer season. Every year my father goes to my uncle's cabin in the woods. Unlike most shacks, this is a picturesque little cabin that my crafty and talented woodsmith uncle built by hand overlooking a small lake.

I like the idea that my dad has this bond with someone. For him, I believe it is the camaraderie, rather than actually hunting these days. They "hunt" during the early morning and return to drink like sailors, eventually passing out/going to bed before 10pm most of the time. They have kept track of how many cases of beer are drank every hunting season since 1993.

They will hunt Thanksgiving morning together before coming home to their families for magnificent feasts. This is what little I know of their tradition.

Just the Dogs

Mom

I want you to know how much I love you. How I love it when I look at photographs of you when you were my age and I see myself. I love it when people I've never met before tell me I look just like you. You have been more than a mother, more than a friend. You have been there for me through all of the little and large dramas of my life. You were so great when Snowflake was born. You just knew what to do by doing nothing, just being there. Your presence was so comforting. I am glad we are able to spend lots of time together. Sometimes I curse this, but I know I'm lucky to share this journey with you. Even though you might not ever see this, I just want you to know, as Snowflake tells me from time to time, "You're the best mamma in the whole wide world!"

The Cinema

The amazingly multi-talented and colorful Maya's Granny tagged me to do this fun meme on movies. Who am I to deny such an easy way to create a post in a month long marathon?

1. Popcorn or candy?
I love buttered movie theater popcorn, but sometimes it grosses me out with it’s richness. At certain points, the smell can be toooooo much.

2. Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever.
Finding Nemo ( I had an absolute crush on Monsters Inc. I really haven’t seen anything current in years)

3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Who loses theirs and to whom?
I don’t remember seeing “A Trip to the Bountiful” whose Geraldine Page won best actress in 1985. Maybe it was age before beauty, but Whoppi Goldberg should have won that Oscar for “The Color Purple”.

4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be?
Anything Rita Hayworth wore in “Gilda” The gowns by Jean Louis are divine.

5. Your favorite film franchise is...
Indiana Jones

6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why'd you invite them? What do you feed them?

First I would have to invite Charlie Kaufmann, the screenwriter. He wrote Adaptation, The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Being John Malkovich. I guess I am more drawn to the process behind the film than the actors & actresses. Also, John Malkovich because I loved him in Dangerous Liasons and believe it or not “Making Mr. Right” with Anne Magnusen(cool bitch). I like the things he’s done, even Con Air. Ha Ha. My third guest would be Tim Burton(he’d have to bring his gal Helena Bonham Carter as a freebie since she is in my favorite movie of all time, “A Room with a View”), the creative genius behind Batman(the first one), Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands. I think I’d have to ask Helen Mirren because she is my very favorite actress. She’s classy and so ice cool. My last guest would have to be either Johnny Depp or Pedro Almodovar. Oh, and David Lynch absolutely. John Waters, too. I just can’t decide!

7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theater?
Immediate electrocution in their seat.

8. Choose a female bodyguard: Ripley from Aliens. Mystique from X-Men. Sarah Connor from Terminator 2. The Bride from Kill Bill. Mace from Strange Days.

Ripley it is. She could handle anything.

9. What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie?

The creepiest thing in any movie I’ve seen is Jeremy Irons portrayal of twin gynecologists who completely flip out in the movie “Dead Ringers”. FREAKY FREAKY FREAKY! Especially the specially designed tools they make for use on their clientel.

10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is?
I like foreign films. I haven’t seen any in a very long time, but I love Japanese and Chinese films that occur in ancient times.

11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power?

I would give more women money to direct their own films.
I would choose some of my favorite books and, where they are still alive, have the authors do the screenplays. Cast actors rather than stars.

12. Bonnie or Clyde?
Bonnie because she’s the fantastic Faye Dunaway of course. She’s class, baby, even as a mad gansta.

13: Who are you tagging to answer this survey: Heidi in Hong Kong, Py Korry (and of course the wonderful J if she wants a freebie since she's nablopomo or whatever, and Christine.

Totally

I think my dad always bought Crest toothpaste growing up. At my mom's parents, it was cinnamon red Close Up and an occasional bottle of Pearl Drops. Lick your teeth and say "It's a great feeling!"

My dad's parents always had Colgate and this became my favorite although I thought Aim was cool because of the blue gel. When striped Aqua Fresh came out it just blew me away. Somehow I managed to stick with Colgate. Now I use Colgate Total.

What scares me about this is the Brooke Sheilds commercial for Colgate Total. With her big arching eyebrows, she reminds me a little too much of Jack Nicholson in Batman. Too much Smilax, way way too much.

When I see her give her infant daughter a little gobble kiss, part of me sees a glint in her eye(and unmoving brow) of "Crazy Scary Post Partum Brooke" and I'm afraid she's gonna actually bite that baby's head right off and growl. The older daughter/toddler seems indifferent to the whole schmoozing ordeal. Her mother did have thoughts of throwing her right out the window.

I never had post-partum depression, but I can totally identify with that feeling.

First Snow

Friday Night

On My Own Tonight

I know my head will snap right off of my neck, but it won't. Some miserable brainless highly intelligent miniscule "thing" has invaded me with force. Last night my head weighed 50 million pounds, packed tight, like concrete filling every passage way, suffocating my fat swollen nasal passages, as if they were trying to engulf or eat one another. Heavy mouth breathing all night.

Waking with the Dead Sea in my mouth, my tongue was nothing more than the dry scaley head of turtle or a dead lizard on the highway, three days old. Swallowing, the left side of my throat felt pierced anew with each peristalsic movement. Ouch. Blowing my nose felt like a pressure cooker getting ready to explode. It was just a squawk of air tightly rippling it's way out, vibrating my face. No satisfactory snot expulsion. Rediculous.

My left eye, irritated and watering all day, sobbing just for me. On the drive home today as Snowflake slept, I meditated on how it really sucks to be sick and alone. To feel crappy and to have no one to coddle you. It's a deathly feeling.

It amazed me as I flew down the dark road how Morrissey could still have such a grip on me twenty years later. I was listening to "I Know It's Over" off of "The Queen is Dead". I moped and cried. Tears swelled up along with my sinuses so that I could barely breath. It was perfect sadness and although I really wanted to blow my nose halfway to China, I couldn't.

Love Letter

03.09.02

Hello My Sweet + Most Lovely ____-

I had a terrible night last night. I didn't sleep - if I did, it was fitful, restless, exhausting. I thought alot about what you said last night- that if I didn't hear from you again, or you from me, that there would always be a place in our hearts for each other.

In the eternal battle that can happen in the blink of an eye- between the heart and mind over reason, the heart emerges victorious (much to the dismay of the mind). I am mystified beyond comprehension- somehow I have fallen in love with you... it was beyond my control. Yet, I take full responsibility. How can this be? Not everything that happens in life can be understood so neatly.

My heart is a good one- a few flaws here and there, but overall resilient and beautiful. There was an ice storm last night and even the strongest of hearts, like trees can buckle under the weight of harsh reality. I think that happened to mine last night.

I don't ever want you to be sad. I don't want you to apologize to me because you think I'm sad and it has something to do with you. It's very difficult, but I attempt here to make it easier to let go. I want you to know that the door to my heart is open to you. I leave it open for you. At the same time I understand if we don't talk anymore- distance and the unknown can kill so tender a blossom thoughtlessly in its youth.

Thinking about the what ifs can drive a person mad- life has to go on. We have to take from this mystery that will never happen again, a sustaining drink of joy. Remember it until something new dims that special place reserved for one another in our hearts and minds.

Please do let me know how you are doing from time to time. I will do the same. And I would like to see you whenever you're in the area. I will send you the photos of the lizards and the mini-worlds when I get a chance. I won't forget. I bought this card last June in NYC @ Rizzoli. At the time I didn't know who I bought it for- now I know. Please take care of yourself and be well. Know that I care. I think of you too often. I love you and I let you go.

Heidi

A Skeptical Ho

I remember the three bedroom duplex we lived in when I was five years old. It was a bi-level: when you walked in the front door you could go up to the bedrooms or down to the kitchen and living room. There was a really cool spot to hide under the main landing of the stairs and my brothers and I always made this our fort by hanging blankets over the open space secured on the floor of the foyer by books, shoes or anything we could find.

I was five and my brothers were 2.5 and almost 1 year. This was the year that Santa came to our house and died. I couldn't believe it. One snowy night the doorbell rang and it was HIM. I answered it and ran away in shock, leaving the door wide open. Nevermind, jolly old St. Nick( this happened to actually BE my Uncle Nick) brazenly walked in, cheerfully Ho Ho Ho-ing his way downstairs to our livingroom. I was suspicious.

All of that seemed to fade when he gave each of us a felt stocking with our names written cursively in glitter at the top and stuffed to the gills . I distinctly rememeber that we each received an orange. In days of old this was a traditional gesture, but in my little mind I was thinking the kindergarten equivalent of WTF.

We sat on his lap and told him what we wanted. Before we knew it he was out the door and gone. I didn't know what to think. It made going to bed on Christmas Eve rather difficult. We always opened our presents on Christmas morning. My parents put us to bed. I couldn't, couldn't, wouldn't sleep. I could hear them downstairs listening to music and laughing. I didn't sleep. After a few hours, I'm sure they thought we were all snuggly tucked away in sweet dreams. My brothers shared a bedroom with the crib placed strategically close to the door, always left ajar to hear baby James in case he cried.

I guess I was a skeptic from early on. Sometimes I really despise this about myself. I snuck into their room and wriggled under his crib, spying through the crack in the door. I had a full view of the hallway and later, my parents carrying all of the Christmas presents downstairs from their bedroom.

I was ruined. I never told them until I was an adult. Years later I took it upon myself to painstakingly open every single Christmas present they bought and wrapped for me without their knowledge. I put the tape back on so carefully you couldn't tell. I was getting a skateboard. I casually mentioned to my mom how I really hated skateboards(I lied) and the look on her face was worried, almost mortified. I think she caught on quick when I mentioned that I hated virtually everything they bought me.

How could I? What a rotten little kid, I think. Yet, my own behavior has prepared me well for Snowflake. I will never leave Christmas presents wrapped up, name tags "To: True From: Santa" laying lazily under my bed for him to discover. Now if I could just find someone to play Santa...

Life with Dogs

On Monday I came home from work to find my sweet Chidle Bug had a problem with his front paw. Gingerly he tried to avoid using it and I thought I would give it a little time in case he jumped down on it funny or strained something. It's been three days and last night I gave him some buffered aspirin and it seemed to do the trick.

This morning he was worse. He was standing on his front paws but was shaking and showing weakness in his hind legs. What the hell. I gave him some aspirin and called the vet. We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. He is eating and drinking.

I cried and Snowflake tried to comfort me. I can't help but feel like I drove the first nail into his coffin by bringing home Ginger and Frank. Sometimes I really hate the things I do. I am not ready to go down this lonesome path again. Charlie is, ha, was a spritely and energetic dog for eight years old and now it seems as though his vim and vigor has disappeared too quickly.

This morning he was an old man. I feel so bad. This is so hard for me to watch and I always seem to assume the worst. Boxers are some of the most special dogs in the world. This I know to be true and why?

For all the pain I think I can see in his big soft brown Milk-Dud like eyes, his little nub still wagged enthusiastically for me as I tried to comfort him just the same as when he was a puppy.

In Toyland

I have a sickness. My name is Heidi and I am a toy whore. I love cool toys. Snowflake has the LikeABike, a Bilibo, some Playsam streamliners, and a Kuggelbahn and so many other luscious toys that there just isn't time nor room to mention them all.


The Like A Bike is too amazing for words. Since I now have a fast connection I may have to post some video of my little bad ass flying down a hill just so you believe me. The self confidence it gives a two year old is priceless. He has the balance of a much older child thanks to this cool bike. These are all excellent toys and I highly recommend them. Did one year fly by so fast already? I can't believe it. I hardly believe how the bank account dwindles to mere cinders so quickly when shopping for playthings.

I just started shopping for him and this year he's going to the moon in this fabulous recycled cardboard rocket by ISA. I am hoping he finds endless consuming pleasurable imaginary pretend time in there so I can luxuriate in the tub for ten minutes or so. Prices vary greatly on this little baby from $42.95 to $75.00 online depending on the store.

Santa is also bringing him a nice selection of Bruder toys. He is getting the MAN cement mixer, the snowplow and the MAN garbage truck. Although these are plastic, they are high quality german toys(made in a small family owned factory) and all three of them have won the Spiel Gut award. I seem to dig anything that has the Spiel Gut sticker because the Germans seem to really know their shit when it comes to quality and play value.

It would seem as though I am done. His birthday isn't too far after Christmas so maybe I can get him this fabulous Vilac Teepee and this kickass Rody by Gymnic rubber horse that holds a whopping 400 pounds!

It comes down to the fact that I love toys as much as he does. I want him to have rich memories. How cool will it be for him as a grown man to see pictures of himself as a little long haired tater tot playing with these incredible toys, and then to actually have those toys to do whatever he wants with.

Once

I can't say that I never had the opportunity to get married. Once upon a time someone DID in fact ask me to marry him in my dead grandmother's driveway while I conducted an estate sale. Right there amidst the gaudy carnival glass, radio tubes, twine and boxes he grabbed my hand and asked me to marry him as the locals looked on.

I pulled my hand away embarrased and asked him if he was nuts. By the way, he was. With a given middle name of "Lucifer" what chance did he have? He grew up in the Ravenswood area of Chicago and after his father died and his mother was murdered, he was sent to live with his pedophile uncle in Florida who worked for NASA.

He flipped out twice while I knew him. Not just a mild outburst, but a full blown strip himself naked, walk down the street and jump in the lake and swim to the other side where the ski show took place kind of breakdown. He didn't know his name.

This was a person who was in a straightjacket and put into a padded room. The padded room had a heavy metal door with a circular pattern of punctured holes to hear the sound through. This made it sound like you were talking from another continent. He rocked back and forth smiling not once opening his eyes to look at the faces of those visiting him through the thick plexiglass window.

You know how you always wonder about the one shoe you see on the road or in some freaky weird place? This was the guy who did it. He has the other shoe. Once I gave him a pair of Docs for his birthday and when he had a breakdown he told me he left one of his boots in a mailbox in Madison.

The reasoning behind the actions were all perfectly logical to his splitting mind. This was a man who was going to build a spaceship and fly it to the moon. He had the formulas.

I can remember his long lanky albatross like body swimming in the Pacific Ocean. Pasty and white, his arms were so long they looked like the blades on a windmill spinning in slow motion. He swam so far past the safety buoys we wondered if he would be swept away.

He brought us a dead pufferfish to look at. Grossed out as we were, we laughed when he hurled it back into its watery grave. He used all of his might, it came from his very core. He would laugh mightily, sometimes for no reason at all.

Sometimes we would have sex five or more times a day. Crazy wild creative sex, like various Kama Sutra positions, some Japanese Butterfly thing and saran wrapping the bed and covering ourselves in exotic oils.

He was six years younger than me and I said no. Years later he stopped by the office and asked me to lunch and I told him I couldn't get away. Part of me cried inside, having to turn him away. I was there for him as much as I could be.

One night I was watching the news with my boyfriend and I was shocked when I heard his name and that he was hit and killed by a car while crossing the road. I wonder sometimes if he didn't just throw himself in front of the car to stop his insanity.

Lost List of a Dragonslayer?

Okay, maybe a Dragonslayer's personal ad? A rough draft.


Found in my front yard written on a piece of notebook paper that had the frayed edge neatly cut off. I'm guessing by the scrawl that it is tweenage or teenage boy. Does anyone know from whence this geekspeak cometh?(No corrections made for spelling errors in the note)


Name: Ragnarogronzinthos
Allinement: Chaotic super Evil
Age: 25
Main power: Arcane
Side power: Elemental
Defensive power: Shadow
Waepon 1: Sulfuras hand of Ragnaros
Weapon 2: Quel'searr
____________________

class: warrior/rouge (hmmm...sounds pretty)
Armor: arrow drawn pointing down
Head: helm of Wrath
Neck: Fang of onixia
shoulder: spaulders of Wrath
back:
chest:
wrist:
hand:
waist:
legs:
feet:
Finger 1:
Finger 2:
Trinket 1:
trinket 2:


Deatails of weaps, Armor, Rings, trinkets on Back and neck!( that's right, EXCLAMATION POINT, YEAH!)

Evergreen

In fourth grade Steve Schmidt and I were good pals. His parents owned a cheese store. We went to a parochial school and instantly bonded over our Levi's and Nike Cortez', his the red leather swoosh and mine the blue. We both liked and went to alot of movies with our parents on the weekends in Green Bay. We loved Superman when it came out. He was the kind of guy that I wish now could have come to my slumber parties. I have no idea where he is but I hope he's doing well.

Along with being into pop culture in fourth grade, he also knew my biggest bluff and never told a soul. I denied the whole thing to him and now I laugh about how idiotic I must have looked.

We had to write a poem for an assignment. That weekend my family went to Milwaukee where I perused the album collection of my parents friends. It was here I found the words to the Barbara Streisand song "Evergreen". Hmmmm. Pretty good, I thought. I claimed it as my own the following Monday. No one had a clue and I wonder why. I mean it's just NOT fourth grade material.

"Heidi, isn't that a Barbara Streisand song?", Steve said to me after class.

"I have no idea what you're talking about", I lied to my friend.

"Um yeah, I'm pretty sure that is a song, my mom has that record," he said.

"Well Steve, I wrote it all by myself" I exclaimed and never heard mention of it again.

Miles apart and whereabouts unknown, this little friendship of ours will always be one of the sweetest friendships I had. It will always be "ageless and evergreen".

In the Wrong

Watching Nightline last night I couldn't help but wonder WTF over President Weinerhead's pal down in Texas. You know, Mr. Baptist Minister who was looking for crystal meth and gay sex? He should have stepped away from the altar immediately. The outright arrogance is maddening. Being in the right, uh huh.

We vote on Tuesday. On the ballot is a referendum about civil unions, cloaked as the scape goat of gay marriage. This proposition is not exclusive to homosexuals, but all common law unions. A few people in the community are pissed because someone is stealing the "Vote Yes" to the "Gay Marriage Ban" signs they have placed in their yards. We can never go back to 1950, people.

I am proud of my fellow citizens who have placed "A Fair Wisconsin Votes No" in regard to this rediculous right wing agenda. No one came to my door, otherwise I may have asked for a mini billboard to be placed on the front lawn.

I think life is too short to limit the love and the rights of people who may not share your biological disposition.

My Boldness

In the spirit of writing a post per day in November, here is one more feeble attempt to keep up. I look forward to hurling out more trivial information in the coming weeks. Thanks for the ideas Christine.



The idea behind this meme is that you bold every one of these things that you've done and leave the rest in standard typeface.

01. bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. swam with wild dolphins
03. climbed a mountain
04. taken a ferrari for a test drive
05. been inside the great pyramid(mine was Chichen Itza)
06. held a tarantula
07. taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. said "i love you" and meant it
09. hugged a tree
10. bungee jumped
11. visited paris
12. watched a lightning storm at sea
13. stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. seen the northern lights
15. gone to a huge sports game
16. walked the stairs to the top of the leaning tower of pisa
17. grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. touched an iceberg
19. slept under the stars
20. changed a baby's diaper
21. taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. watched a meteor shower
23. gotten drunk on champagne (cheap champagne)
24. given more than you can afford to charity
25. looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. had a food fight
28. bet on a winning horse
29. asked out a stranger
30. had a snowball fight
31. screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. held a lamb
33. seen a total eclipse
34. ridden a roller coaster
35. hit a home run
36. danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. adopted an accent for an entire day
38. actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. had two hard drives for your computer
40. visited all 50 states
41. taken care of someone who was drunk
42. had amazing friends
43. danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. watched whales
45. stolen a sign
46. backpacked in europe
47. taken a road-trip
48. gone rock climbing
49. midnight walk on the beach
50. gone sky diving
51. visited ireland
52. been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. in a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. visited japan
55. milked a cow
56. alphabetized your cds
57. pretended to be a superhero
58. sung karaoke
59. lounged around in bed all day
60. played touch football
61. gone scuba diving
62. kissed in the rain
63. played in the mud
64. played in the rain
65. gone to a drive-in theater
66. visited the great wall of china
67. started a business
68. fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. toured ancient sites
70. taken a martial arts class
71. played d&d for more than 6 hours straight
72. gotten married
73. been in a movie
74. crashed a party
75. gotten divorced
76. gone without food for 5 days
77. made cookies from scratch
78. won first prize in a costume contest
79. ridden a gondola in venice
80. gotten a tattoo -
81. rafted the snake river
82. been on television news programs as an "expert"
83. gotten flowers for no reason
84. performed on stage
85. been to las vegas
86. recorded music
87. eaten shark
88. kissed on the first date
89. gone to thailand
90. bought a house
91. been in a combat zone
92. buried one/both of your parents
93. been on a cruise ship
94. spoken more than one language fluently
95. performed in rocky horror
96. raised children- in the process
97. followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. passed out cold
99. taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. walked the golden gate bridge
102. sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
103. had plastic surgery
104. survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived it's called having a baby via cesaerian
105. wrote articles for publication
106. lost over 100 pounds
107. held someone while they were having a flashback
108. piloted an airplane
109. touched a stingray
110. broken someone's heart
111. helped an animal give birth
112. won money on a t.v. game show
113. broken a bone my nose- whacked in the face by my friend's backhand during tennis lessons
114. gone on an african photo safari
115. had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. sent nude photographs of yourself to someone
119. had major surgery
120. had a snake as a pet
121. hiked to the bottom of the grand canyon
122. slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. visited more foreign countries than u.s. states
124. visited all 7 continents
125. taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. eaten kangaroo meat
127. eaten sushi
128. had your picture in the newspaper
129. changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about
130. gone back to school
131. parasailed
132. touched a cockroach
133. eaten fried green tomatoes
134. read The iliad
135. selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read
136. killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. skipped all your school reunions
138. communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. been elected to public office
140. written your own computer language
141. thought to yourself that you're living your dream
142. had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. built your own PC from parts
144. sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. had a booth at a street fair- actually in my front yard during a festival
146. dyed your hair
147. been a dj
148. shaved your head
149. caused a car accident
150. saved someone's life

That was fun. Just how bold are you?

Know Thyself

I was tagged long ago by the wonderful and talented Island Queen of Manitoulin. It's a really cool "Know Thyself" quiz, so I decided to give it a go.


"KNOW THYSELF" TAG!

What is/are YOUR:
Easy how-to ways to beat a bad mood? Take the dog for a walk, eat chocolate, have sex(ha ha)

Never-fail lip color? blood red, baby it's a Borghese number

Personality type (via myersbriggs)? inwardly social butterfly, a shut in, a homebody with wayward thoughts of travel to distant lands, mainly China, Morrocco and Japan, but I'd settle for Hawaii.

Greatest strengths and weaknesses (like in a job interview)? what is a job interview?

Names of the trees in your yard? craptalpas, I mean Catalpas and a Burning Bush(how fitting)

Mother-in-law's favorite flower? what is a mother in law? I CAN tell you my dogs like to pee on flowers of all kinds.

Names of 3 friends whom you're going to tag: Glamgranola, Lotus, and JellyJules, but only if you're up to it, sisters. It took me almost two weeks to get to this. I'm taking it slowly these days.

Endings

The last day of the month. It was a decent day. A bright and cold sunny day. Postcards arrived in the mailbox from a friend and it made me happy. Happy that he thought enough to do the tedious task of sending a few simple words to the bambino from the far corners of the country because I asked him to. The Tarantula card arriving on Halloween was a lucky stroke of genius.

Progression into a powerfully cold night, my mother called to tell me that someone I knew died. He was only 23. I was shocked. My heart ached for his family and for the son that will never remember him. He will have all the stories, the few photographs.

What a bunch of bullshit.

I wish you could see him, the picture of him that they put in the paper. It must be his high school graduation photo. Vibrant, full of sweetness, and tinged with innocence.

I did not know him well, but I knew him. I remember him. I have pictures of him with his son wearing a little Santa Claus suit sitting on his lap at my Christmas party last December.

It reminds me of my own dead brother and all of the sweet lost souls who go away without ever looking back. The hurt they leave behind is immeasurable. Don't blame them. They have no idea other than maybe their own suffering will stop.

Be kind to people and have more patience. Tomorrow they bury their son, their brother and a baby's father. Tomorrow this could be happening to you.

Rest in peace sweet, sweet boy.

Frankenstein's Howloween

He looks so much better with the bolts OUT of his neck


Fruit Bats


Total Treatness

Little Clown

Halloween 2006
(for reals)

ManBug

At our house


The ManBug clowns around.



On Sunday's Halloween



He took flight.

Halloween Ass Kiss

It's been brewing for a while, like a witch's steaming cauldron. I'm a little pissed off. Okay, hormones may play a part in today's tirade, but I don't care. This year in our fine upstanding community of Bumblefuckton, Trick or Treating is on Sunday from 1-4pm. Did you hear me my fellow Halloween revellers? SUNDAY FROM 1 TO 4PM!

For ef's sake! Who wants to celebrate Halloween on October 29th, DURING THE DAY? Spooky! Scary! Damn, this fries my fritters. Some say it's safer. Some say it's more convenient. I would personally like to rent a bullhorn and go down to the town square and tell those who decided this for all of us a few years ago to kiss my ass.

A few years ago I could have cared less. I had no Mini Me to pass the ritual on to. This year Snowflake has TWO costumes. Yeah, two. I suppose we will go on Sunday during the day, and then travel to one of the small surrounding communities where they still celebrate Halloween on Halloween.

There is something about being a kid, wearing a costume and actually going out into the frigid fall night on Halloween. The woodsmoke in the air, jack-o-lanterns glowing, there is a certain sense of authentic spookiness. It's just not the same thing on a Sunday afternoon.

Steaming Cup of Matt

Him: Good evening and welcome to Starbucks. What can I get you tonight?

Me: How about a big luscious steaming cup of you, Mr. Man?

Him: Excuse me? Uh, can you repeat that, please?

Me: Matt? (feeling like too much of an ass to repeat that line)


Silence

Me: Um, can I get a venti non fat with whipped white mocha?

Him: That will be $4.48. Please pull forward.

God! I don't want to pull forward now. I slowly inch my way up to the window and see a young man at the window. I also see Sylvia as I pull up (completely red faced and freaked out).

Me: (to the young man) I am soooo sorry. I thought you were my neighbor, Matt.

Him: That's okay.

Sylvia: Hi Heidi!

Me: Did you hear what I said?

Sylvia: Oh yeah. You know his name is Matt too, she says laughing. Your neighbor works tommorrow.

Me: Okay, thanks. Have a good night.

I feel like a total ass. This Matt is in high school and I tell him to keep the change from my five as I speed away as fast as possible laughing at my mistake.

Friday Night Thinking About Dan

I never thought my new love would have came via Snowflake. This summer I began taking him to work with me and although I hate, hate, HATE to admit it, the cathode ray tubes began to play a part in our daily routine.

The first time I witnessed the twangy video interlude between The Doodlebops(like the Krofft brothers on a very bad day) and The Wiggles (their smocks remind me of Star Trek), I knew I was in love. Harkening back to my stoned age, something pulled me to this lanky and swanky beat. It was Dan Zanes House Party.

Do you know Dan Zanes House Party? I'm a little late. I never listened to the Del Fuegos, so I never knew who he was until now. There is something catchy and cool and not at all juvenille(like Cecil B. Demille) about this music. It totally grooves. Okay, maybe it's a total Chris Isaak on acid thing. I've always had a thing for Chris. Reading a little more about Dan Zanes made me wish I were his pal. He is sooooooo cooooooool. I know I'm going to have to run out and buy all of this music(no futuristic DSL for this lady, yet).

I AM drinking a glass of wine, but I can't stop thinking about getting down on the rug to do the bug. Not actually "do a bug", but you know, dance.

Last Crack at the Season

Spilt

It has been a few years since I had grapes to harvest. When I reroofed the house four years ago, I had to cut the vine way back. Last year I had a small batch that I cooked down into jam because it was the last time my sweet blackberry boy pug ate them. He was like a truffle sniffing hog in the fall. Morbid, but I still have four little jars stashed in my cupboard. I will probably always keep them. This year was a bounty. Beautiful dark violet blue orbs hung thickly twisted around the old vine. The aroma hung in the air from twenty feet away. Grapey grape.

Last Monday I took the bunches, cutting them with my micro Leatherman with precision, leaving a few hanging for the winter creatures. A sweet treat in a barren landscape. The next day I hauled them all up to my parents house. We washed and destemmed them, cooked them, mashed them, strained them.

Back into the pot they went along with sugar. I was making jam. I have never used pectin or gelatin. This year I thought I would try using turbinado sugar(sugar in the raw). I cooked it and cooked it and cooked it. After sealing 36 jars, I had to run to the store and buy 24 more.

My cute first little 36 jars remained a syrup. Bah. All of that work for nothing. The other 19 jars(the ones I went to the store for) are nice and jam-like. It seems nothing like the jam I made before the vine was ever trimmed back for construction.

Tonight I brought the batch home and opened up each jar with a pop, letting it pool in the sink as if it were my own blood. There was so much and I did feel sad. Sad to see all of that growth, that life going right down the drain.