Wednesday, June 30, 2010

guess who might be moving back to America's Armpit Texas?

Spoiler alert: it's me


blah blah blah, economy, blah blah blah, whatever.


On the upside...  nope, I got nothin'.


If you need me, I'll have my head in the oven.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Dear Millipede,

I will not dispute that you are at least 10 times cooler than a centipede - at least by virtue of your abundance of legs - and I will not dispute that there is a certain rhythm and fluidity with which you move all of those appendages, but I'm still not comfortable with you in my living room. Or any room of my home, for that matter.

So if you could just, you know, stay the hell outside where you belong, I would be forever grateful.

Thanks a heap,

xxoo,

me

Labels: letter to

Monday, June 28, 2010

this post is totally not about a t-shirt

Out of sight, out of mind, or does absence make the heart grow fonder?

I have this t-shirt - it's kind of a school bus yellow with a cracked iron-on of a Rolls Royce - I got it about a billion years ago at a vintage shop in Seattle and it may be legitimately vintage - whatever the case, it's definitely old, it's got that wonderful soft, flimsy quality that a t-shirt takes on after many washings and wearings.

When I lived in Seattle, I used to wear it all the time and every time I wore it I always got compliments - maybe because it's a cool t-shirt, maybe because it's a bit tight in the chest area. Whatever the case, it was my favorite t-shirt.

Sometime in one of the billion moves, the t-shirt got packed into a box and misplaced.

For a while, I really felt the loss of that shirt. I dug through boxes and searched everywhere. I can't tell you the number of times I had the perfect place to wear it. The chase was kind of... interesting.

Eventually, I gave up the search. It wasn't that I didn't like the Rolls Royce t-shirt anymore, or that it was a less-cool shirt, it's just that after a while, the search for it started to seem... pointless, it was so one-sided, the shirt wasn't searching for me, it was just languishing in a box somewhere, it didn't give a crap if I found it or not. So I found another t-shirt I liked well enough and went along my way.

A couple months ago, I found the Rolls Royce t-shirt again - and I put it on (after washing and fabric softener-ing it) and something was different. It felt the same - thin and perfectly soft, and it looked the same, perfectly snug over the boob area with just enough give everywhere else, but it wasn't my favorite shirt anymore.

So I guess (for me), absence does make the heart grow fonder - at first, anyway - I missed the hell out of that shirt for a while. After enough time went by, though, that shirt became less and less... significant to me.  And even after the shirt and I found each other again, things were never exactly the same.

Labels: just sayin'

you know what a totally not-awesome way to start the day is?

Finding out your new grapefruit face scrub smells not like grapefruit, but vomit.

Definitely not-awesome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


also, apropos of nothing, but I really have to say this... I would rather be shot in the face than read or watch any of that "Twilight" crap.


And, am I alone in not finding either of these guys even remotely attractive?


seriously, I don't get the appeal. At all.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

if I told you I just realized I've been wearing my underwear backwards all day, would you have an idea of the kind of day I had?

Thursday, June 24, 2010

about 14 years ago, a 6-month-old bundle of black and white fur leaped into my arms. We had told the rescue lady that we didn't want a puppy, but she insisted on bringing along this mutt, she thought he would fit into the family. He moved with me from Seattle to Arizona to Georgia to Texas and finally here, to California.

When I was pregnant, no matter where I was, he was with me - if I got up to pee in the middle of the night, he woke up and camped outside of the door until I went back to bed.

He's been slowing down recently and couldn't hear so well, but still loved food and would follow me anywhere.

Today when I came home from running errands, he couldn't get up, not for me, not for a treat. The vet said, basically, he was dying. So I stayed with him as they shaved a bit of his leg and injected the bright pink fluid into his leg and it broke my heart.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

I have a confession

I may be thirty-mumble and have a kid and worry about gray hair and wrinkles and adjustable rate mortgages and all of that other grown up stuff, but I still don't feel like a real grown up.

My dinner plates are mis-matched, I don't own a single potholder, I have never once had the urge to go antiquing and I cannot, for the life of me, understand why anyone would want to go on a cruise. Not to mention how I consider chips and salsa a halfway decent meal or how, on a regular basis, I leave the house with my hair in pigtails. And have I ever EVER once gotten Christmas cards out in a timely manner? Nope.

And who can forget how both of The Kid's teammates who were hanging out at the house last weekend asked me to friend them on Facebook? (I didn't, thankyouverymuch, no matter how much one of them kept assuring me that he was "almost 11" and that he has always liked "older girls")

Today, I decided to take a step towards grown-up-hood and become a wine-drinker - I don't drink much, not for any reason, really, and I've never been into wine, but I figured that I live in wine country, I pass acres of vineyards every time I drive anywhere, so maybe I could try it out. I bought a bottle of local wine from Trader Joe's and, after spending half an hour looking for a corkscrew, I popped it open and poured myself a glass... and, just not into it.

I see these other moms at basketball events, rocking their mom-haircuts, sensible khakis on the weekend and grown-up leather purses and I can't imagine wanting to integrate any of those things into my life.

Am I destined to forever be un-sophisticated and goofy? Will I ever feel the urge to listen to talk radio or jazz? Will I ever feel qualified to go to parent-teacher conferences? Will a mini-van ever sound like a good idea? I thought it would happen when I turned 30, but... not so much. Will it happen when I'm 40, or is that when I start getting botox and shopping for leopard-print spandex outfits, transitioning straight into cougar-ness?

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Dear My Cat,

You're adorable, you're funny, you're chatty when I feel like talking to you, quiet when I don't feel like talking and you always know when I'm depressed (and you splay yourself across my feet in a decidedly non-pushy way).

I think you're the coolest animal on the planet - you're cooler than those skateboarding bulldogs, cooler than those parrots who speak three languages and cooler than those iguanas that people pose on little couches.

I don't mind that you wake me up nearly every night with purrs and cat kisses so I will lift up the duvet and you can curl up next to me. You're even the only life form on the planet with whom I will willingly cuddle.

I adore the heck out of you. I really do.  I have a (mod cartoon) tattoo homage to you on my arm.

I do have to draw the line, though, at sharing my water cup with you. If only because you spend an inordinate amount of your day licking your junk.

Please stick to that big water bowl in the kitchen, mmmkay?

Thanks,

xxoo

Labels: letter to

Monday, June 21, 2010

when pms attacks

The Kid: hey, when are we going to Target?

Me (changing into the third different t-shirt in five minutes): guh, never

The Kid: Why not? We need dog food and vitamins and... whatever else you said we needed

Me: because I look gross

The Kid: What are you talking about?

Me: my hair looks gross, my face looks gross and every t-shirt I put on looks gross... could I be any further from cute?

The Kid: You're cute!

Me: You're just saying that because you want to go shopping

The Kid: no... not totally

I give him a dirty look, change into another shirt and frown at my reflection.

The Kid (running over to hug me): You're always pretty, Mom!*

aww, I thought, if he just had a supply of dark chocolate in one grubby little hand and some pretzels or chips in the other grubby little hand, everything would be great!

The Kid (still hugging me): ... except when you wear your glasses. Then you look like a bug.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Saturday, June 19, 2010

You know what's awesome about having extra pre-teen boys in the house for an afternoon?

nothing.




I keeed, I keeed - they're actually well-behaved, they keep themselves busy with video games and they eat anything - and, how could you not adore a kid named Jean-Pierre (on the left) with a lisp?

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Dear Animal Rescue Lady -

Sunday morning, when I asked your organization for help with the tiny baby kitties because I didn't feel I was experienced enough to take care of babies that young, you totally blew me off by telling me to take them to animal services.

"They're kittens, they'll probably get adopted."

When I wasn't jumping for joy over that response, you grudgingly told me that if I hadn't dropped them off at the pound by Wednesday, I should call you and you would see if your organization could help me.

You don't get to call me today and cop some attitude because I was fortunate enough to find a woman with a nursing mother cat who could take the babies on Sunday*.


So when you asked me "Exactly what is she going to do with them?"

It was extremely difficult for me not to tell you that she was going to fatten them up and roast them for the Fourth of July.

I get that animal rescue is often a thankless and emotionally draining undertaking, but maybe, just maybe, you could refrain from being a total dick to people who ask for a bit of help.

Consider it, k?

Thanks a heap,

me




*the issue wasn't me wanting to get rid of them - who wouldn't want more kitten time? The issue was me wanting to do what was best for the babies - obviously someone skilled with babies and a mother cat could take care of them better than I could.

Labels: I'm a jackass, letter to

the newest orphan to take up residence here

This is Jim.

Jim appeared on the top of my dryer a couple of weeks ago. No one knows where he came from, but he's here.



Today, I was doing laundry and found he had relocated to the detergent box. Stains had better watch out because he will cut you.


So it's not like I can put him out, he's only got one sleeve on his jacket. Oh, and he's an inch tall.

Labels: and I'm not even on Ambien, I take pictures

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Gratuitous Pussy Pictures*

Squish and Squoosh together

Just Squish



just Squoosh (and, yes, she looks a little bit... special - she's got one wonky eye, but she doesn't seem to be affected mentally - she eats like a champ and purrs the second anyone touches her)




Through Craigslist**, I found a woman about an hour North of here who does cat rescue and even happened to have a nursing mother cat - when she saw the pair, she guessed that they were probably about 4 or 5 weeks old - definitely not old enough to be away from their mother - but they're in good hands now and will be spayed, given shots and placed in good homes as soon as they're old enough.

So that's my good deed for the weekend and I can return to being a heartless creep now.


*like I could pass up the opportunity to use that title? I'm sure.

**who knew it was good for anything other than getting rid of old lawnmowers?

Labels: I take pictures

Saturday, June 12, 2010

*sigh*

This is Squish. She and her sister, Squoosh, are currently chilling in the back room of my house.


I usually take pictures during the late morning/early afternoon hours, but today, I decided to try out my camera on sunset-ier light. I wanted to go to Pismo Beach, but The Kid wanted to go to Guadalupe Dunes State Park - decided to go there, but it turned out to be closed. On the way home, saw a little black lump in the middle of the road and right before running into it, realized it was a kitten. And there was another kitten on the side of the road.

I screamed to stop the car and raced to go pick them up. Squoosh was in the middle of the street (she might not be the healthiest/smartest cat) and Squish was sitting in some bushes.


This was in the middle of farm fields, no homes in sight and these babies are way too young to be on their own.

Obviously I couldn't leave them there, so I scooped them up and brought them home. And because I live in such a little podunk town, no animal shelters are open until Monday. So, apparently until then, I'm babysitting. But, for reals, wtf is wrong with people?

Labels: I take pictures

Friday, June 11, 2010

Today was the first official day of summer - at least with regards to school - and The Kid decided he wanted to go to the zoo.

The closest one is in Santa Barbara which happens to be one of my favorite cities within a hundred miles of here, so I figured we'd make a day of it.

First stop was the Mission - which is supposed to be the Queen of California missions, so I thought it would be cool, or at least interesting. The Kid felt otherwise.

"Can we go?" he asks after about two minutes. "This place is nothing but old ladies cackling and gay Europeans."

We walk by a couple of guys sitting on a bench speaking Dutch (maybe?).

"See?" he says when we get past them.

"European I'll give you, but I don't think they were gay, the guy in the black shirt kind of checked me out."

"Whatever, he was probably checking me out."

~~~~~~~~

And the zoo was nice as usual, and we took a walk on the pier and ate ice cream for lunch (handmade waffle cones and rocky road FTW!) and it was a lovely day.

Also, this guy? There again (there still?) and sculpting THE SAME EFFING THING. Guess who didn't get a handful of change and candy this time? Sorry, you don't get to act like the angsty, tortured artist if you're showing up and jumping through the SAME EFFING HOOPS for tourist dollars every day.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Thursday, June 10, 2010

me and my dumb dreams again

Last night? Another airplane dream, and then I was hanging out with Sammy Hagar*.





*I would just like to make it abundantly clear that there were no shenanigans going on between me and the Red Rocker - I will totally cop to being dream-engaged to Roy Scheider**, dream-making out with Mark Cuban, and letting dream-John Mayer touch my butt, but Sammy Hagar? Ew, okay? Just, ew.

** for the record, this was younger, Jaws-era Roy Scheider, thankyouverymuch

Labels: dream a little dream

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

I may officially qualify as a girly girl

It's Wednesday and I've already painted my toenails 3 times this week.

See, Sunday, they were pink - a color called Back to the Fuschia - it's been my go-to color for a while, bright, happy, whatever. But I decided that maybe I was ready for a change, so I ditched the pink and went for Ruby Amber.

I only did one coat of Ruby Amber* (I was probably distracted by a dime on the ground or something) and then I wandered around barefoot on the beach and effed up that nailpolish. Sure, I could have just slapped on another coat over that and would have been just fine until I decided to change the color, right?

No, that would have been way too easy.

I was kind of thinking I wanted something more red, but I still kind of liked the Ruby Amber. So yesterday I got rid of the Ruby Amber and put on a coat of Red Red** followed by a coat of Ruby Amber.

Today, I decided it was too red and I wanted to go back to Ruby Amber. Which I did. 2 coats.

Further evidence I'm totally girly? I just wrote a whole fucking post about my toenails and included the names of 3 different nailpolishes. Tune in tomorrow for a fascinating anecdote about the 6 different flavors of lip gloss in my purse***.





* which is not really either ruby or amber

** obviously named by someone who was Lazy Lazy

*** I sincerely hope not

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Pro-tip for Summer

If you decide, once the morning mist stuff burns off, that it's another stupidly beautiful day and you want, need to go check out the rocky, cliff-y, flower-y beach area that you went to this weekend - and you know this involves climbing rocks and crawling through caves, it's probably a good idea not to wear a dress, especially if you'd like to keep your knickers to yourself.

Labels: I take pictures, I'm an idiot, just sayin'

Today's Top Seven kinda pointless and not necessarily Fun Facts About Me

• I am pathologically incapable of leaving well enough alone
• I have never met a button - literal or figurative - that I didn't absolutely have to push
• I don't like extra bits of bread - that last inch of the hot dog bun or empty corners of sandwiches.
• I'm very protective of my personal space bubble
• I have sensitive ankles and elbows
  
• I make spectacular grilled cheese sandwiches
• I'm kind of in love with the ocean right now - I grew up in Southern California so I think I've always taken it for granted, but since I moved back here and started really liking photography, I'm kind of infatuated (I'm still irrationally scared of sharks and won't get into the water, I just like being near it).

Labels: just sayin'

Monday, June 07, 2010

do you ever not feel cute?

Not like you're worried strangers are going to run screaming at the sight of you, but you're just not... cute? Like your hair isn't quite right, or your favorite t-shirt just fits weird, or your face is just slightly off.

Do you ever have one of those days? Do you? Do you? Huh?

Well, it must suck to be you.

Sunday, June 06, 2010

Two Thousand Words (more or less)

summer is here - which means -


the first bunch of apricots shaken from the tree (and, yes, I'm wearing a pink shirt, shut up. please note, holding onto the fruit and the shirt and trying to take the picture at the same time was not the easiest - you betta recognize)



also, it's very hot - just ask the cat who spent the afternoon melted onto the table

Labels: I take pictures

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Pro-tip

If you're cooking with dairy products, it's important to:

1) pay attention to the expiration dates

and

2) know what month it is when checking the expiration dates (ie: the milk dated May 26th is not as okay now as it would be if it were still May)

Labels: I'm an idiot, suzy fucking homemaker

Friday, June 04, 2010

If I were a rich girl (na na na na na... whatever)

I would hire someone to:

• peel my oranges
• put my duvet into my duvet cover
• remove my laundry from the dryer and fold it (I like the separating and washing part)
• open and reply to emails I don't feel like answering
• put away the dishes in the drainer (I don't mind washing them, just can't be arsed to put them away)
• wash the windows
• fuel up my car
• put away the groceries
• water my plants
• periodically remove the expired food from my refrigerator and pantry
• periodically replace my razor in the shower
• wrap presents  
• shop for "real" presents for people (I'm much better at joke gifts)
• get anything I need out of the garage after dark (that's when the bugs come out)
• spritz my pillow with some lovely smelling linen spray about 10 minutes before I go to bed (so it's not damp, but it still smells nice when I curl up on it)
• dust my books and DVDs
• go through the folders of photos on my hard drive and remove ones that didn't come out perfect
• have my coffee brewed when I wake up (I'll prepare my own cup, thankyouverymuch, I don't trust anyone to get the coffee to creamer ratio just right)

  

Labels: pointless whining

okay, so I've maybe sort of kind of decided recently to maybe start trying to kind of look into taking my photography sort of seriously, right? And the other day, I joined some photography website and I posted some picture and got some feedback and some people added me as a contact, blah blah blah. I've gotten some messages from other members and I'm trying to be nice, whatever. Yesterday, I get a message from a guy who is totally destined to be my new best friend*

him: hey...u look pretty hot...u do any self shots?

because my hotness is clearly visible from the itty bitty thumbnail I posted in my profile.

me: Thanks, but I don't post my goodies online**

this should be the end of it, right?

him: show me urs and ill show u mine ;)

oh wow, really? Well, I wasn't going to until you ADDED A FUCKING WINKING EMOTICON. That makes you seem a whole lot less creepy.

me: tempting, but... no thanks

him: if ur scared just say ur scared lol

scared of the fact that your profile says you're 40-something, but you type like a seventh grade girl.

me: scared of what? d00d, it's the internet, if you need to see boobs that badly, google can hook you up.



* and by "new best friend" I mean "first person I've ever wanted to block online"

** especially not to guys who type in text speak.

Labels: I take pictures, I'm a jackass

Thursday, June 03, 2010

flattery will get you... something

Why, yes, Mormon Avocado Farmer's Wife, beginning an email to me with "You should wear red more you look like snow white, you are gorgeous!" is totally the way to be my new best friend!

Especially when I actually look like crap, with a sunburnt nose, scroungy ponytail and a red wife beater sans bra (I wasn't expecting visitors - yes, this is what I look like at home, k?)

Labels: I'm a jackass

thank you, I'll be here all week, tip your waitress

Once he was done, my tattoo guy sends me over to the full length mirror to check out my new ink.

I hold up my shirt for a second, and gasp. "Oh, shit."

I hear the tattoo guy gulp - he's slightly new-ish and was telling me about being worried about screwing up anyone's tattoo. "What?"

"Um... small problem.'

"What?"

"I don't really know how to say this... but... shoot, I can't believe I didn't notice this before... but, um, it's backwards."

He frowns and I turn around and point at it. "It's not backwards."

I turn back around and point at the mirror. "It's backwards."

"No, that's just the reflec... oh, you're fucking with me, right? The price just doubled."

"Worth it for the look in your face."

EDIT: fine, here's a link to the ink - it's on the right half of my ribcage - it looks a bit crooked, but it's not, it's how I'm standing as I'm trying to take the shot. Next time, I'll be more mindful of how easily I can photograph the spot before I get a tattoo.

Labels: I'm a jackass

Guess who got a new little tattoo this morning?

Spoiler alert - it's me!

see, I never carry cash, usually use my debit card for everything I don't steal*, so when I happen to have cash, for whatever reason, I usually just stick it into a pocket in my purse and forget about it. The other day, I was cleaning out my purse and adding up the crumpled ones and a little stash of cash I got from my stepmom for Mother's Day and it seemed like I might have enough saved up for some new ink.

And there's this tattoo shop I always pass on the way home from the beach - it's just blocks from the ocean, so today, I stopped in and spent a little time with Rocco (a man whose parents were, apparently, opposed to him having any kind of white collar job) - we talked about music and California and tattoos and piercing and how good I am at sitting still** while be repeatedly dug little needles into the tender skin of my ribcage.

Impulsive much? Just a bit.






*I'm KIDDING, shut up

** totally adding THAT to my resume - maybe I could get a job as a first grader.

well, hello, mystery wrapped in an enigma

I have an itty bitty piece of dental floss stuck between two of my molars.

What the fuck am I supposed to use to get that out?

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Hey!!!!

Labels: just... why?

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

show me your teef...

As though the whole starting-the-week-as-the-dentist isn't bad enough, my dentist is a goofball, like your friend's dad who tells goofy jokes and tries to be "cool".

And he has country music pumped through the office.

And he sings along.

And he made me wear a pair of Oakleys while he was drilling my teeth.

And the initial numbing stuff tasted like too-sweet bubble gum.

And the filling stuff tasted like raw pumpkin.

And then there's that SMELL.

And half my face is still numb.


On the upside, though, not a whole lot of places for the week to go but up from here*, right?




*I fully intend to delete this when/if it turns into famous last words.