Surfing in the New Year

Yeah, another Christmas is behind us and we're looking ahead to another year.
Christmas wasn't horrible. We had the same foods, the same people (maybe one or two less) and some of the same gift bags.

I did get an iPod Shuffle from Santa Claus and I'm loving it. I never thought I'd use an iPod much so I never jumped on the bandwagon but when I finally caved in to peer pressure, I chose a shuffle because, really, who needs more than 250 songs?
Well...I can certainly see where one could fill a whole gig pretty quickly.

I'm ringing in the new year with two sick dogs. Zoe is vomiting and has diarrhea and Piper has a bladder infection.
I noticed blood in her urine a few days ago so I immediately took her to the vet. After collecting a urine sample (it's easier than you think) they declared her bladder infected.
After the visit, I drove down the beach and noticed the massively ugly waves coming in.

I took advantage of the video feature on my digital camera and grabbed a couple seconds of dirty waves.


(I just uploaded it so you might have to wait if you don't see it.)

Hope you all have a very wavy New Year!

...and a Happy New Year

Sad News

My sweet Skippy lost his father.

My heart is breaking for him.
He needs all of our thoughts and prayers.

Doggone It

Since Crash died, I admit there is a void in my life.
I have two dogs and a cat still but I keep thinking about that missing spot, the one where Crash use to reside.

Every so often I look at breeder websites and rescue websites. I daydream about a puppy or a new dog but then I realize that I still have TOO many animals in my apartment! Adding another one would be insane.

Then the other day my sister sent me an email telling me how she's going to adopt a sheltie from a local sheltie rescue group.
Somehow, I found myself on petfinder, looking at dogs that needed a home.
A local animal shelter had a dog named Luke and he needed a home urgently.
Luke is blind and deaf.
I figured no one would adopt this poor dog and since I've had experience with deaf cats and blind dogs, I thought I'd be the right person to take this puppy home.
I was still hesistant so I emailed my mom about it and sent her the link.
A few minutes later, I get an IM from my sister saying "We're going to get him when Mom gets off work!"
What? Huh?

Apparently, Mom was on the phone with Sister #1 when she got my email. Sister #1 said I must adopt that puppy!

We called, though, and he had already been adopted.

On one hand, I'm happy that he found a good home.
On the other hand, I was a little disappointed. By the time we found out, I had already decided I was adopting him and had already started planning out ways to train a blind and deaf dog.
I was going to use scent training. One scent for outside, one scent for "no", a scent for the stairs, a scent for the car...etc...

I had already started daydream about being on an Animal Planet show, showcasing the genius of my scent training.
I was going to be famous!

I guess I'll just have to wait for my 15 mintues when I'm 80 and the news vans show up to talk about the crazy lady who died alone with 50 dogs and 30 cats.

It's All About De's Favorite Things

Christmas Edition!

This is late but who says gift-giving is only for Christmas? I say give me gifts all year 'round!

• This new iPod Shuffle is the cutest thing in technology right now! I already know I'm getting it but it's still a favorite thing!


• I've been thinking about old movies a lot lately, specifically Arsenic and Old Lace. This is one of my favorite movies because Cary Grant is such a genius in it. His comedic facial expressions make this movie a genuine classic!


• Teavana. We have a store locally but I also love browsing their website. I recently purchased the Perfect Teamaker for home and I absolutely love it. It really is perfect!


• Bath & Body Works has come out with a Signature Collection of Perfumes. Japanese Cherry Blossom is one of my favorites.
• 
  
• A few months ago big, slouchy, leather handbags were in but now I'm totally into the frame bag. Cole Haan has an amazingly affordable patent leather (another hot trend right now) bag that I just love. The wine color would go with SO many things!

That's all I've got for now. I may add more as I shop and find more things for myself than others!

Random Junk

Let me share with you how busy I've been lately.
I started reading a book 3 days ago. I'm on page 30.
What the hell?

It's the Christmas season, I suppose. I guess we're supposed to be busy this time of year.
Plus, we're planning this gigantic surprise party for my mom's birthday. It's this Friday. I can't believe it's finally here since it's been in the works since the summer.
My best friend has been doing most of the hard work. She's one of those people who are super organized and very detail-oriented. She's also got a spotless house. Oh, how I hate her.
Of course several years ago when I was drunk on the floor of her bathroom, vomiting every two seconds, I was praising her cleanliness!

Lon had invited a few of us over to her house for games, pool, drinks, etc.
I had just suffered a break-up so I used an entire bottle of Jack Daniels to soothe my wounded spirit.
It started with a little Jack mixed with some Coke. Then I graduated to shots of Jack. Then I decided to skip the middle man and stuck a freakin straw in the bottle and sucked it dry.
Lon was out of liquor but luckily some friends brought beer.
I opened a bottle, took a few drinks and...well....I was running to the bathroom.

That was the first time I had ever been drunk enough to be sick. That was also the first time that I have no memory of certain events. However, I do remember laying on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, thanking God that Lon was such a clean freak.
My head was cradling the base of the toilet and there wasn't a speck of dirt, hair, dust...nothing.
I could have eaten off that floor if I wasn't hurling up the contents of my stomach.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this story. I guess the moral of the story is: If you're going to worship the porcelain god, do it at Lon's house.

Why

Do you have any idea why I haven't blogged in a million years?
I have shit to talk about. I've read interesting books and articles and have had meaningful conversations.
But I'll open the blogging interface thingy and I'm blank.
So, I've decided to ramble.

My best friend, Lon, one of my sisters and I are planning a surprise party for our mother.
Her birthday is in December but we've been planning this since the summer. We're having it catered and I sent out about 40 invitations.
It's one week away and the details are consuming me right now. I keep thinking of all the things I've missed or forgotten.

Of course Christmas is an all-consuming thing. I wish I could say I am denouncing the commercialism of Christmas and rejecting the idea of gift-giving but, dammit, I love getting gifts!
I'm not afraid to admit that I am selfish and I love getting stuff. So, I can't be a hypocrite and not get shit for other people.
'Tis the season!

I'm concerned about the abundance of panty-less girls out there. Could someone please buy Britney Spears some panties for Christmas?

Thanks

Feudin' Femmes

As embarrassing as this is for me, I've got to talk about the Kelly Ripa/Clay Aiken/Rosie O'Donnell debacle.

What a load of shit!

I've tried to "like" Rosie. I respect different lifestyles and different points of view on many topics but I'm tired of people pulling the "gay woman" card.
It never occurred to me that Kelly's comment would be considered a slam against all gay people.
But Rosie, with a giant lesbian chip on her shoulder, had to make it a homo-issue. I guarantee you that Clay Aiken didn't want that!
He has never come out of the closet. He's never once said whether or not he likes the ween.
But big mouth Rosie just made an even bigger issue of it.
Rosie O'Donnell spends her life on the defensive and I can't say I wouldn't be the same way if I had all the societal strikes against me that she does AND in the public eye constantly but it's obvious to me that she's spoiling for a fight.

With so many other "hot topic" issues in the world, I can't believe she chose Kelly Ripa's innocent remark to tear apart.
I wonder how long til Barbara Walters gives Rosie the ole Star Jones-Reynolds treatment?

A Message

MySpace High

I think I hate MySpace.
In a way I think it's great for kids. They're all into that shit but when people my age and older spend great quanities of time on it, it seems strange....almost pathetic.
I was using MySpace to stay in touch with a coworker and some online friends. Then I ran into some OLD online friends from back in the IRC days.
Then it migrated to people I went to school with and this is where I draw the line.

There is a wonderful reason why I don't go to reunions or join classmates.com. I didn't like those assholes when I was IN highschool, why would I seek them out on MySpace?
I recently got a friend request from someone that supposedly graduated from my highschool a few years after me. I don't know this chick. Her name isn't familiar and I don't recognize her picture. But I checked out her profile and saw several people I graduated with and then I looked at their profiles and so on and so on and suddenly, I was surrounded by people I knew from years ago; people I've been perfectly happy not seeing for the last 15 years.
I felt a little sick to my stomach and I don't know why.

Maybe it was because these people have never seemed to leave highschool.
The only people on their friends lists were school mates.
I looked at my friends list and very few are people I went to school with.
I'm not saying it's wrong or unhealthy to have 100 lifelong schoolmate-type friends but well...I don't know what I'm saying.
It just made me feel a little odd. All these people I spent hours with for 12 years of my life, right here, on this little computer screen.

It made me realize how small your life is the first 18 years of your life. You're surrounded by people you're forced to be with and they all seem so important.

Once you're wrenched out of their clutches, you realize that the world is an enormous place. There are so many people, so many opportunites and you can be anyone you want to be.

I don't have any interest in knowing these people again. I've grown up and moved on. I don't rely on having a bunch of friends or a bunch of people to hang out with anymore.
I always hung with a crowd and felt like that's what was important then. Now, I only allow a few people close and I like it that way.
I am counting quality here, not quantity.
I am fulfilled by the really good friendships I've cultivated.
So, yeah, I might just leave MySpace to the kids and the online friends.
I've done highschool already.

Morons, Golf Clubs and Spiders...Oh My!

My previous entry about the moronic coworker has opened the floodgates in my memory.
That wasn't the first stupid question she's asked me, believe me!

She's also completely computer illiterate. The only reason she can do her job is because she's been given step by step instructions on which buttons to click and which keys to press. She's written it all down and keeps it close to the monitor.

A while back, I undertook a huge project where I added 12 new public access computers and a new network printer.

I was extremely busy because I was doing this all alone.

At one point, I had to access her computer to change some network settings and install a new program that had absolutely nothing to do with her.

About 30 minutes after I worked at her desk, I was in the middle of trying to figure out a problematic database issue when a patron stopped me to ask me a question.
I wasn't supposed to be out there helping patrons but no one else was around and this poor person didn't know that. So, I stopped my frantic IT work and assisted her.
In the middle of everything, my moronic coworker comes up to me in a total panic.

Her: De! I can't find my spider!
Me: Your what?
Her: My spider! My spider solitaire!
Me: The computer game, spider solitaire?
Her: Yes! It's gone. When I click the start button, it's not there anymore!

Now, I've figured out that when I was messing with her computer, I opened a few programs, causing the solitaire program to "fall off" the quickstart list in XP but what I couldn't understand is why she couldn't FIND it in "Programs". What's more; WHO FUCKING CARES? I'm WORKING. I'm in the middle of one of the biggest projects in the history of this establishment, PLUS helping a patron and she interrupts me because she can't access her fucking computer game...AT WORK!!

I was standing in the middle of a public place so I couldn't go absolutely apeshit like I wanted so I calmly said, "I'll help you with that when I get a chance."

I had no intention of helping her but the 18 year old part-timer came in a little while later and helped the moron with her pressing computer emergency.

But, lest you think she's the ONLY moron where I work...
another coworker overheard me talking about my cat, Hemingway, and said "Oh, what a cute name! Isn't Hemingway a golf club?"

Granted, she's not a librarian but ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME???
A golf club???

Concordance

Yes, it's true. I'm not really that intelligent but I surround myself with morons to make myself seem smarter.

Case in point:

Many of you know what I do for a living and in what type of establishment I work.
A coworker came up to me with a piece of paper with two works written on it.
"What is the difference between this," she pointed to one word, "and this?", she moved her finger over the second word.

I stared at the two words for a moment with a perplexed look on my face.
I wasn't perplexed because I didn't know the answer to the question. I was absolutely STUNNED at the question.
I should be given a fucking award for not 1.) smacking her upside the head, 2.) Laughing hysterically or 3.) Shooting myself in the face.

Oh, what were the two words, you ask?

Dictionary

and

Thesaurus

If The Glove Don't Fit, You Must Buy My Book

You have got to be kidding me!
OJ Simpson is about to release a book entitled "If I Did It".
IF? If anything, OJ should be writing about HOW he did it and got over. He should write a freaking textbook for murderers.
There isn't a human being on Earth who believes he's innocent. There are tribes in remote villages who have never seen a white face or a stitch of clothing who go "OJ? Yeah, he killed those people!". Except that's translated from a series of clicks and hoots.

And now, to really rub everyone's faces in it, he's writing a book about how he COULD have done it...if he did it.
Obviously, he doesn't give a shit about the families of his wife and Ron Goldman but has he thought about his kids at all?
Oh, what am I thinking? He's a murderer. He doesn't care about ANYONE.

If any of you people actually BUY that piece of shit book, I swear I'm never speaking to you again!

That One-Armed Bandit

If you're wondering why there are no more pics of Zoe, it's because I've lost interest. You're lucky I went 6 days or 5 days or however long it was. I tend to lose interest in about 2 or 3 days so this was a pretty good stretch for me.
This probably explains why I'm not married.

But anyway...
I pulled an all-nighter at a casino this weekend.
We drove in the pouring rain all the way to Coushatta in Kinder, Louisiana because apparently, Texas don't take kindly to no gamblin.

Casinos are strange, it's like entering a time warp. It seemed like within the first 10 mins, I lost $60.
After checking, I'd been there an hour and a half.
I met up with a friend and she was down to her last $20 so we grabbed a bite to eat and hit the club to listen to the band.
They were really very good and we finished out their set with them at 2:30am.
After that, I hit the slots and that's when I started winning.

I ran into my mother who showed off a wad of cash. She hit a $600 jackpot.
I was at a dollar slot so she sat down next to me, slapped a 100 down and immediately hit $200.
She literally almost fell out of her chair! If I hadn't caught it, she'd still be on the floor.

I guess I'm good luck.

Anyone wanna take me gambling to find out?

Zoe: Day 6

I forgot to take pics for yesterday and didn't remember to take any until after we were in bed so here is Zoe in all her raggedy cuteness!



As you can see by the way her hair is kinking up, she's starting to look poodle-ish which is a BAD thing in a Bichon household!
One more week until grooming day. A whole week!

I Do Not Approve This Message

Finally! Election Day is here.
I love Election Day. I love the smell of democracy in the air. I love the sight of elderly people shuffling into the voting booths because apparently, young people do not vote.

But what I love most about Election Day is that it signals the end of those dumbass political commercials.
I'm sick of seeing Chris Bell, Shelley Sekula Gibbs, Carole Keeton Strayhorn and Rick Perry 4590373493 times a day.
I'm sick of hearing some monotone idiot at the end say, "I approve this message."

I just once would love to hear someone say "I do NOT approve this message! Who authorized this shit?"

THAT is who I'd vote for.

As the World Urns

So, after much decision-making, I finally ordered an "urn" for Crash's remains.
When you say the word "urn" you think of that typical tall, vase-type thing but this isn't like that at all.
It's a polished walnut box with a Bichon figurine laying on top. The box has a brass plate engraved with a message of my choice.

When I received his cremains, I left them in the small box. According to all of the pet urn websites, the ashes are usually sealed in a plastic bag and you just transfer the plastic bag to the urn you purchase.
I wasn't ready to see his ashes so I left them in the box until I absolutely had to take them out.
When the box-urn came in, I opened the cardboard box that contained Crash's remains and dug through some styrofoam to find a small, polished, black ceramic urn...a real urn.
Sealed inside of that real urn, is (I'm assuming) his ashes. Sealed. In an urn.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do? How do you get ashes out of a sealed urn?
I don't know if the ashes are loose in the urn or if they are in plastic but I have this horrible mental image of me trying to pry open the top of the urn and the ashes flying all over the diningroom table.

If that happens you might as well order an urn for me too because I will absolutely DIE.

Oh Happy Day

This glorious news has certainly turned this into a VERY happy Election Day, indeed!

(Britney) Spears filed legal papers today in Los Angeles County Superior Court, citing "irreconcilable differences."

The world rejoices.

Zoe: Day 3

She gets so excited when I get the camera out. I don't know what she thinks is about to happen but she starts smiling and jumping up and down.
On the other hand, Piper, slinks under the bed. She is afraid of the camera for some reason.

This is Saturday:







She's pretty raggedy at this point. Hard to believe she was professionally groomed 3 days ago!

Zoe: Day 4

I almost forgot to take her picture on Sunday.
I took Zoe and Piper over to my mom's house and when I went to get them, Zoe was enjoying a nap with my mother so I snapped a few pics.
My mother preferred I not share with you any pictures of her sleeping. (how's that Colin? lol)
Go figure!

Zoe's got bed head!

Zoe: Day 2

This is Sad Zoe because Mama is leaving for work. She gets on her bed and pouts while I'm getting ready.
As you can see, her grooming has already started to deteriorate.
On her hind quarters is a dark spot where her white fur is turning a rust color. This is her skin allergies. We've tried all kinds of medications including steroid shots but after Crash's diagnosis of Cushing's Disease (which can be caused by steroid use), I've wanted to stay away from potentially organ harming meds.
We're currently trying apple cider vinegar which I've heard works well.

I'm not sure why Zoe already looks messy, she only scratches that back spot. We'll see how much of a difference a day makes tomorrow.

Pig Pen

My family has long called Zoe, Pig Pen, because no matter when she's been groomed, she always looks raggedy.
She will look well-groomed for approximately one day and then she will somehow look like she's been living on the street and eating out of dumpsters for about a year.
She goes to the groomer every two weeks and when Crash was alive, he went too. Crash would look great for nearly the whole two weeks but Zoe looks like hell by the time I take her to her next appointment.
I'm not sure why she can't seem to hold a groom but I've decided to chronicle her "groominess" for the next two weeks.

So...here we have Zoe, Day 1 (merely minutes after returning home from the "salon"):



and

I Married Joan

No, they didn't suddenly legalize same sex marriages in Texas. I'm talking about the old TV show called "I Married Joan".
There are those of you who have never heard of it because you're not strange like me.
The reason I thought of the show has a round-about story.

The other day I was talking to a co-worker who is 18. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about because the latter part of the conversation became so explosive that it wiped out any memory of earlier conversation.
Anyway, I said something jokingly about someone having a bionic leg.
Her: A what?
Me: You know, a bionic leg. Like The Bionic Woman?
Her: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Me: Are you telling me you've never heard of the TV show called The Bionic Woman????
Her: *shakes head*
Me: What about the Six Million Dollar Man?
Her: *blank look*
Me: You have GOT to be kidding me!!!
Her: You're forgetting that I'm only 18.
Me: I don't care! You had to have at least HEARD of those shows! C'mon! They're television classics!

I was surprised and it sort of made me sad. That is a whole era of television culture that is lost to people of her generation.
Those were shows of my childhood along with other shows like Chips and Charlie's Angels.
The only reason people her age know Charlie's Angels is because of those horrid movies with Cameron Barrymore and Lucy Drew.

Then the other night I was thinking of shows that I loved that weren't of my generation. Shows like Donna Reed, Mr. Ed, The Three Stooges, Little Rascals, My Three Sons. I caught all of those on Nick at Nite as a teenager and loved them.
I was also trying to think of some really old shows that I watched when I was even younger. These shows were sort of obscure even back then although my mom and dad knew them because they watched the original runs!
My first thought was I Married Joan and another show I couldn't remember. It had the name Irma in it.
So, I called my mom. She remembered right off the bat that it was My Friend Irma and wanted to know why I was thinking about that show.
I told her what led me to think of them and she started reminiscing about Joan and Irma.
She has an actual memory of going to her Aunt Pauline's house to watch it on Wednesday nights because they didn't have a television at home.
The cousins would lay on the floor in front of the TV and look at the wonder of technology.
She said she can remember laughing so hard at the antics Joan would get herself into.
I can remember laughing at them too, 30 years after she first did. In the early 80s a Christian cable channel started showing reruns and somehow I stumbled upon it.

I wondered if the show was on DVD now and through the magic of the internet, I found out the entire show was on DVD!
Because the amount of information on the internet is so vast and neverending, I dug a little deeper and found out all sorts of interesting tidbits.

Joan was played by Joan Davis and her husband was played by none other than Jim Backus (aka Thurston Howell, III)! I had forgotten about that.
Her sister, Beverly, on the show was played by her real-life daughter, Beverly.

Joan Davis started out in vaudeville and when I Love Lucy came out to such raves, NBC cooked up a show for Joan to rival Lucy.
As good as the show was, everyone really loved Lucy. The show lasted only 3 seasons versus I Love Lucy's 6 or so seasons.

Davis died in 1961 and her daughter, Beverly Wills died in a house fire, along with her two sons and her grandmother (Davis' mother). How tragic!

Isn't the internet freakin great?

Everybody Blogs....Sometimes

A long time ago, I wrote an entry about my great aunt. She's 85. At the age of 79, she decided she wanted a computer and wanted to learn how to email.
She got a book on Windows 98 and computer basics and read it cover to cover.
Then her son showed her how to operate her computer and before long, she was emailing, web-surfing and shopping online.
Now, 6 years later, the internet has become her world. Her congestive heart failure has made it difficult for her to get around. but she doesn't miss a thing because she's got her computer and her internet.

Lately, she's been hearing about and reading blogs and has decided she would like to start her own blog.
My mother knows that I have a blog but she knows I don't want her reading it and she figures there is probably a good reason for that.
She told my aunt that I could help her and so I will.

I think she is amazing; 85 yrs old and she wants to dive into the world of blogging.
She grew up on a farm with no electricity and no running water. They had an outhouse and they did their homework by kerosene lamps. They picked cotton and shucked corn.
Now, she surfs the web and talks on her cell phone.

The world has moved so fast and she's kept right up with it.

I can only hope to be as savvy as she.

Mid-day Haiku

Yummy it's lunchtime
Soba miso with chicken
and buckwheat noodles

It's in the bag

I think I'm in need of an intervention.
I am a purse freak and have ALWAYS been since I was a tiny little girl and cherished my big sisters' cast-offs.

I have a gazillion purses and they spill out of my closet and into large storage bags in the corners of my bedroom.

I thought I was out of hand when I coveted Dooney & Bourke. A boyfriend happily fed my addiction and bought me purses for Christmases and birthdays.

Now, I'm moving on to bigger and better (more expensive) things:

Fendi
Kooba
Balenciaga
Chloe
Chanel
Dior
Zac Posen
Marc Jacobs

All brands of purses that I have no business desiring.

What is this crazy need to have quality leather and deep rich colors adorn my arm?
A $10 purse from Wal-mart holds the same crap that a $1500 designed by Zac Posen will hold.

Am I compensating for some shortcoming? Do I need therapy?
But who wouldn't go just a little insane for this:


or this:

Artistic Impressions

I love art mostly because I want so desperately to be able to express myself using some form of art. I have tried and I found myself sitting before a blank page or a blank canvas wondering what in the hell I'm doing.
So, instead, I collect.
I'm not like Steve Wynn who collect priceless works of art by oh..say...PICASSO but I enjoy owning things I find beautiful.

I don't always love those realistic paintings of landscapes or still life. I want to see what the artist sees inside his head.
Sometimes that's pretty damn scary but sometimes it can be breathtakingly beautiful.

I wrote a small blurb a year or two ago about an artist I really love named Walter Falk. My boyfriend at the time and I discovered him back in 97 or 98. We bought a couple of pieces and then looked for him every year at the Bayou City Art Festival and would purchase one or two pieces.
When said boyfriend and I broke up, we split our collection and went our separate ways.

Falk disappeared from the art festival after a couple of years and we never found him again.

A few months ago, his son found my blog by (I'm assuming) doing a search for his father's name.
He emailed me to let me know his dad was still painting and would be in my area this weekend at the Artoberfest.

I was worried when the day started out with pouring rains and strong winds but luckily the weather cleared and it turned into a decent day for art.

I found Falk right away. He spoke to me as soon as I entered his booth but there was no way he would remember me, he must see thousands of people a year.
He spoke to me as I was looking at his paintings and I explained to him that his son sent me an email to let me know he would be there and suddenly he knew who I was and knew about my blog. He was able to repeat to me things I had written.
It was such a strange sensation.
When I wrote that small entry about this man, I never in a million years thought that he or anyone who knew him would read it.
The fact that he did and acknowledged it was surreal.

Each piece I picked up, Falk had a story about the inspiration behind it. He told me why he used certain colors and encouraged me to take them out into the sunlight to really see the differences in shades and textures.
He told me stories of being drunk in the Swiss Alps, going from brewery to brewery until he found his reason for being in Switzerland.
(He also let me know that he wasn't drunk yet that day and he'd been nursing a warm Lone Star beer for a while. No man should drink a warm beer on a hot day so I bought him a cold Shiner.)
To be able to discuss the actually painting with the artist and to know what was going through their mind when they put brush to canvas is amazing. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be standing there talking to the man that creates such beauty.
He's a huge man, towering over me (with me at nearly 5'10" that's hard for someone to do!) but when he described something he witnessed that inspired him to paint a certain piece, the beer in his hand and his rough exterior disappeared and he became almost child-like in his awe of the world.

Falk uses acrylics and watercolors and ink; sometimes in the same pieces. I love that. I love the complexity and the use of color and the mixture of mediums.

I couldn't make up my mind. There were several paintings that I loved so he put them all side by side and that really helped me make my decision. I purchased two completely different pieces and although I love both, one of them really spoke to me. I stared at it all weekend, marveling at the unbelievable colors and the hidden details.

I don't know a whole lot about art and I certainly can't write with any great knowledge but I know what I like and I know what is beautiful to me.

Art and beauty are truly in the eye of the beholder.

PS: By the time I got to the art show, all paintings and the artist were dry.

It's All About Obeying De

A few months ago, I started dating this guy. We'll call him "Old Balls". I'm not going to go into detail but it was just a casual thing. I had no intention of getting serious with him and I knew he felt the same. We were just having a good time.

Anyone who knows me well understands that I'd rather you be honest with me more than anything. I don't care what you tell me, if you're honest, more often than not I can deal with it.
I'm not an idiot. Old Balls has been unfaithful to EVERYONE he has ever dated or married so I wasn't expecting a monogamous relationship but he is hot as hell so I just wanted to have a little fun.
Then I found out that he was seeing someone else and lying to me about it. Again, I didn't expect him to see only me but I hate being lied to. And the fact that it was stupid lies made me even MORE angry.
It wasn't that he was seeing someone else, it was that he was treating me like a moron. It was an insult to my intelligence and I stopped seeing him.

Ok, cut to this weekend at the Artoberfest. My ex-boyfriend-turned-best-friend went with me and as we are walking around, perusing the artist's booths, I spotted Old Balls walking with a woman, holding hands.
I wasn't jealous but suddenly I felt evil. I wanted him to see me because I KNEW it would freak him out a little. I can pretty much assume he's unfaithful to this chick so seeing someone he use to sleep with while out with said chick would make him uncomfortable.
Plus, I am SO much cuter than this person he was holding hands with. Please girls, don't act like you haven't felt this way before!

Anyway, I alert ex-boyfriend-turned-best-friend whom we'll call Dipshit for this post.
When Old Balls passed by, we made eye contact but that was it, he didn't acknowledge my presence at all (which I expected).
I turned around and watched them walk on and suddenly I wanted to follow them. I was being mischeivious, I know, but I just wanted to make him a little uncomfortable. C'mon! It's fun!
But Dipshit wanted no part of it. He kept trying to walk over on the other side of the street so I found myself screaming things like, "Come on you fucking GIRL! Just walk with me!" or things like "God, you're such a fucking pussy! Be a man!" (Can you believe that we ever broke up?)
He informed me that he could easily be a man on the opposite side of the street.

Later, I thought about my behavior. No, not about yelling at Dipshit. He deserved it. But about why I wanted to make Old Balls flip out.
I wasn't jealous at all but I guess I still harbored some resentment about his treatment of me. I have had guys cheat on me before (haven't we all?) but I was more angry about how stupid he must have thought I was.
People who treat me like an idiot really piss me off. I can forgive the cheating but I can't forgive that!

What does this say about me?

The Weird World of Sports

I don't know why I haven't been able to bring myself to blog lately.
I know I haven't been around much but I do think about you often.

I've been watching baseball and a little football.

In football, I'm sure you've all seen the huge footbrawl that happened between Miami and FIU. Did you also know that the thug announcer that was calling the game got fired?
The whole thing proves my point about football become a thug sport. It's now starting in college and moving right up to the NFL.
It was a gang fight on the field this weekend but they used helmets and cleats instead of guns.....this time.

In baseball, another announcer is fired. This time for making racially insensitive comments. I was watching that game and I didn't get it. At no time did Lyons say "Hey you spic, I'm missing my wallet!" He simply commented on the things Pinella said.
I think that whole thing is ridiculous. I'm hablaing English over here, though, what the hell do I know?

And in other sports news, I found this over at Synergy of Sports.
I don't know if this is real or not but apparently, Mickey Mantle got more than an MVP at Yankee Stadium.

Autumnal Meanderings

So, the time of year begins when the weather changes almost daily.
Autumn on the Gulf Coast is bizarre. Sometimes the weather is lovely and warm with a cool, dry breeze and other times it's humid and suffocatingly hot.
I can remember a many a Halloween when it was too hot to wear a plastic mask or your carefully applied vampire make-up went streaming down your face along with the sweat...AT NIGHT.

We don't have those spectacular changes of colors like other regions do. Some of our leaves turn a dull brown and then quickly fall to the ground.
Our grass usually stays nice and green and a lot of trees retain their foliage.

We rarely have freezing weather and when we do, it's fun and exciting.
When it snowed -ACTUALLY SNOWED- two years ago, people ran around praising God and building snowmen.
It was an incredible sight; something I'll probably never see again here.

With the ever changing weather comes allergies and boy am I suffering.
I don't know where all this mucus comes from but I am SHOCKED that a human body can produce so much.
My head hurts from sinus pressure and from the persistant cough that annoys me and everyone around me.

I would go buy more medicine but the government has decided that we're all to be treated like fucking junkies and we have to go through a strip search, a background check and give up our first born for some allergy relief.
I would take the medication the doctor prescribed me last year but as I swallowed one, I was informed that this particular drug was taken off the market because it apparently causes hearts to blow up or stop or something.

So, I'm just going to sit here and enjoy Fall while I sniffle, cough and wait for my heart to explode.

For Colin: The Fat Lady

She's been singing for a while.

Yes...this past weekend saw the demise of the Astros hopes for a postseason.
It would have taken a miracle to have risen up from the deep pit of despair they had dug themselves but it was exciting to dream....to hope.
Now, what the hell am I going to do until April?

Oh, well there is postseason play and I'm keeping up with that.
I watched the Yankees and Tigers last night.
I just have to say that it must be terrifying to be a struggling Yankee team member.
Look at poor Alex Rodriguez. The guy goes through some rough times and the fans and media are ready to lynch him, behead him and stick his head on a spike on the Brooklyn bridge.
A pitcher who doesn't do well gets booed by his OWN fans when walking off the mound! How about a little support when a guy is down?
It's brutal out there.

Ban This

The idea of banning books is something that infuriates the hell out of me especially in these modern times.

In the days when religious freedoms were threatened, books that allowed people to explore new ideas and beliefs were banned lest someone actually think for themselves.
Now, I would hope that thinking for yourself would be encouraged and celebrated.
Of course, a lot of people rely on the media to tell them what to think but for those of us with half a brain we love those books that challenge our beliefs and ideas.

There was a man, Anthony Comstock, who felt it was his duty to rid the world of lewd, indecent and obscene materials from the hands of impressionable Americans in 1872.
His slogan was "Morals, not art and literature" as if you couldn't have all.
This was nearly 150 years ago. Shouldn't we be beyond banning arts and literature? Shouldn't we embrace ideas?

There are two debates going on right now that have caught my attention.
First, there is a father in Conroe, Texas that wants Fahrenheit 451 to be removed from the high school reading list.
His daughter complained about the book to her father because it contained "cussin" and a scene about "the burnin of the Bible". (Imagine all of that in a very hick accent because that's how I heard it in my head)

In the complaint filed against the school by Alton Verm, he listed each objected item line by line, complete with individual page numbers. Besides bad language and violence, Verm lists "downgrading Christians" and "talking about our firemen" as reasons the book should be banned.

It's obvious that this man went through the book, but did he read it? Is reading comprehension a part of the equation here?
Yeah, he saw the curse words and the Lord's name being taken in vain but did he actually GET the purpose of the story?

This is like all the people who are out to ban the Harry Potter books. Why? Because it talks about magic and witchcraft.
Apparently, the theme of the book being that Harry and his friends make the choice to work on the side of good instead of evil when evil SURE looks tempting completely slides past people like Laura Mallory, who is complaining that Harry Potter is attempting to lure children into the Wiccan religion.

Did these people actually read the Harry Potter books? I'm thinking not.
I have a feeling if they actually read it with an open mind (that's a lot to ask for, I know) they would see that the books actually teach children to shun "evil" and always pick the side of good.

Book banning stems from fear. The fear of ideas different from their own. The fear that someone or something more intelligent just MIGHT be influencing their children.

But ideas are scary. Hopes and dreams of something bigger, something MORE in life are simply frightening.

Leukoplakia

I haven't really felt like blogging much but I feel this pull to do it anyway.
I don't have one particular topic I feel like I can bear down on and discuss but lots of random things just swimming around in my head are bursting to get out.

I'm super excited about the Astros right now. They've won 9 in a row and are looking pretty strong.
They play the Braves tonight in the first of a 3-game series. They Braves are like 18.5 or so behind, however, they beat the crap out of the Mets the other night.
You have to like our chances but I don't want to jinx anything.
At this point, anything can happen!

The Cardinals are my second favorite team, so I hate to see them blow things the way they have, yet, it's really good for us so I have to be excited to see St. Louis lose!
Really, all this wildcard crap confuses the hell out of me. I'll just wait for someone to tell me if I can celebrate or cry.

The internet is a wonderful thing.
A few years ago, I blogged about an artist that I had been looking for at various art shows. I have several of his originals and was hoping to see him again someday.
The other day, I received an email from this man's son. He's still around and will be doing an art show here next month.
Apparently, he googled his dad and found my blog. How handy!

So, recently, I have reconnected with a friend that I had shoved out of my life, leaving a foot print on his ass.
I'm not sure why we have these connections with some but not others.
I've never had a problem erasing a person from my life but there are some that hang on to that invisible cord tying us together.
I'm not sure if it's good or bad that we're communicating again.

It just is.

You know your day's gonna suck when...

the first thing you do is lose the company credit card.
I'm usually pretty good about keeping up with things but I somehow got back to my desk without the card.

I told my boss right away and surprisingly she didn't fire me.

Then there's just a bunch of little annoyances all through the day that make me wish I had stayed in bed.

I'm having a better day than someone like Terrell Owens.
Apparently, T.O. botched a suicide attempt and is now claiming he had a bad reaction to pain meds and supplements.
Right.

The Astros are having a better day than all of us.

I certainly don't want to get my hopes up but it's getting very exciting right now!
Astros have won 7 in a row now, trailing St. Louis by 1.5.
St. Louis is my second favorite team so it's hard to be happy that they've been losing against the Padres these last two nights but I'm hoping the Padres can do it again tonight!

I'm a glass half full type of girl...

but I'm also a realist.

The Astros swept the Cardinals over the weekend keeping the hope of more baseball in October alive.
They played really really good baseball against the Cards. Can we keep it up against the Phillies tonight?
My guess: No.

Can we beat the Pirates?
My guess: Yes

After that we have a series with the Braves and I'm feeling pretty good about that but I hate to jinx anything

The Astros are unpredictable. I don't know what to expect but it'll be fun to watch.

Last night's game was on ESPN and I can't STAND Joe Morgan and Jon Miller and their vapid, useless banter.

At one point, they started talking about Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans and totally ignoring the ball game. Finally, I screamed at the TV, "SHUT UP YOU STUPID ASSHOLES!".
I seriously HATE it when the games are on ESPN.

I'd rather listen to two drunk idiots in a bar cover a baseball game than these two over-inflated geezers.

Always Go With Your Gut

rant
I told myself not to go into that grocery store.
I hate that place. It's filthy, crowded and patronized by mostly mutants.

I allowed laziness and hurriedness to cloud my judgement and I went into this cursed place.

My purchase totalled $9.42 but my debit card wouldn't work. After a few tries, the snaggletoothed cashier informed me that my bank's debit card won't work due to their computer system and accounting and something else.
I didn't hear everything because I was trying to figure out WHY I had left my purse in the car. I never do that but tonight I figured it would be quicker if I just stuck my card in my pocket.
"I'll hold your transaction if you want to go get cash."

When I came back with my purse and a credit card, the manager had yet to void my transaction so the poor lady behind me was still waiting.
They were surprised I was back so fast and let me go ahead and finish my sale.
I politely apologized to the lady behind me and my half-witted cashier told the lady, "Oh I bet you want to just kill her right now, don't you?"

I stopped in mid-swipe and said "Excuse me?"

The cashier said, "Well she looks tired and has been waiting behind you for a long time."

"Ooook," I said, "and whose fault is that? Because it's certainly not mine!"

"Well..uh..yeah...I...uhhh..." the inbred employee was flustered because I was pissed.

"So, I am humiliated here in your store through no fault of my own and you try to incite the people behind me? How is that fair?"

I suppose I used too many words because snaggletooth was silent.

Seriously, I will fucking drive an hour out of my way to never have to shop in that store again.
I've said it before but this time I mean it; I'm going with my gut.

/rant

Holy Crap

Astros beat the Phillies.

What the hell do *I* know?

Anti-Dating

Is it possible that all a man wants is a dumb woman?
Do guys feel it necessary to be smarter than the woman they are with?
Case in point:

I pulled into the gas station the other day at the same time as a man in a truck. We chose the same pump; me on one side, he on the other.
We made eye contact across the top of the pump and he smiled and said "How are you today?" I smiled back and said "I'm fine. You?"

We made small talk for a few seconds and I happened to look up and notice the gas prices.
"Wow," I said, "The gas prices sure have gone down fast."

He agreed, telling me a story about going to another town and their prices were even lower the weekend before.
He told me he thought they'd drop even more, "Kids are in school now and with winter coming, fewer people will be taking long trips. So, there will be less demand."

So on that same note I told him that I had heard that there are different blends for different times of the year. The winter blend has less additives so it's cheaper to make and costs less for the consumer.

I spoke with confidence because I remembered this interesting tidbit and was surprised I had the opportunity to use it in a conversation.

When I was done, his smile became forced, his eyes glazed over and he nodded hesitantly.
Our conversation was over.

I stood there for an awkward moment, wondering what to say next but luckily, the nozzle popped, alerting me that my tank was full.

I slammed the handle back into it's place, screwed the gas cap closed and shut the tiny door.
"Have a good evening."

"You too."

Is this why I'm single? Am I required to twirl my hair, smack my gum and giggle just to snag a man?

Please, I've never wanted anything -man or penis- bad enough to pretend to be stupid.
I have the whole package, boys. Great rack...brains...amazing in bed.
What more could an intelligent man ask for?
Oh...sorry...for a moment there, I thought I was this chick.

Jacqueline Mackie Paisley Jingleheimershmidt believes she's better than most of us.
She might be right.

This story of her blog entry is old but I couldn't help but think of it after my gas station encounter.

Sure, I might be slightly intelligent but that's about the only good thing I can say about myself.
I could never do one of those online dating things because I can give you a million reasons why you SHOULDN'T date me but I can only come up with a couple of reasons why you would want to.

Someone needs to come up with an anti-dating service.

"Don't Find the Love of Your Life Here"
"We have tons of women you shouldn't go out with."

I think I might be on to something here.

Booked

Every so often, I like to read a "fluff" book. This is one of those mainstream novels that are churned out on an assembly line.
They are fast, easy, escapist reads. I just have to be in the mood for it.

The other day I noticed Nora Roberts had a new suspense novel out. I scooped it up and took it home. I started reading it that night and it was entertaining.
The next day I went to get my oil changed and brought the book with me. Sitting there reading, I came upon a section that had me closing the book permanently.
It's just following the same formula that all her books and books of that type follow; boy meets girl, girl and boy both have mysterious pasts, suddenly there is a mystery to solve and they solve it together but not before having weird random sex while girl pretends she doesn't want it but deep inside she has hungered for him since she first laid eyes on him 2 days ago.....etc..

I'm just bored with it.

I recently read a book by Haruki Murakami called Norweigan Wood. It was lovely and different.

I want more books like that.
I don't want books that treat me like an 12 yr old with short term memory loss. I want a book that respects my intelligence and maybe challenges it a little.

Not TOO much, though...

Coming Up for Air

How lucky I am to have such a friend as Adam. Who else would boob up my blog the way he has?
Oh right....pretty much any other horny 23 year old.
Thanks anyway Adam.

No, really. I'm thankful that he was here to fill in for me. I'm going to continue to ask for his help while I try to claw myself out of this pit of despair. (ooo how dramatic)

I would love to blog about what happened to my sister but her incident has become major news. It was featured in newspapers and newscasts.
I don't want some family friend or anyone else googling certain keywords and landing here.

Let's just say that through no fault of her own, she was savagely injured. She was in the hospital for a few days and is now at home, trying to deal with the unimaginable pain and emotional aftermath.

When I got the call, I raced to the hospital from work, not knowing if she would live or die. I kept thinking to myself that if she died, after everything we've been through as a family in the last two years, we'd all have to have one big Jim Jones kool-aid party.
How could we survive another death?

Thankfully, she will be ok and none of her injuries were life-threatening.

I wish I could blog about the anger we all feel, about how unfair the system is towards victims of this kind of attack and how people will lie to save their own ass at the expense of someone else.
It makes you hate humans...really.

On top of all of this....Crash's remains were ready to pick up this week. I went in on Saturday and I was handed this small, cube-shaped cardboard box. There was one simple white label with "Crash" and my misspelled last name on the top.
The box weighed a lot less than I imagined. It's hard to believe that my baby is a featherlight clump of ashes in the bottom of a small box.
Soon, I'll transfer the contents of the box to an urn.

Ironically, the urn costs more than his cremation did.

Going Buhbye

Hey Kids.
I've been really down lately and haven't felt like blogging.

My sister was hurt really bad yesterday but I'll blog more about that later.
I just can't seem to wrap my brain around blogging right now so....I have asked my lil pedo crush, Adam, to fill in for me.
This kid is super prolific and a riot. If you're not reading his blog, you should.

I'll be back later.

We Will Not Forget

Since You've Been Gone...

It's really strange not having Crash around.
I find myself looking for him or watching out for him. When we would visit my mom, I could never get comfortable until I knew where he was. Being blind, he'd get turned around in her big house or have trouble finding his way through the doggie door.
While at my mom's Tuesday, I kept wondering, "Where is Crash?" then I would remember.
Tuesday morning, I got out 3 treats instead of just two. I wake up in the morning and it takes me a few minutes to remember that he's gone. He slept in the bed 100% of the time. Zoe and Piper sleep on the bed 50% of the time. I woke up this morning with the bed to myself. It was a very odd feeling.
It's hard to let something or someone go after being in your life for 10 yrs.

There is something else that is bothering me. I realized yesterday when I was walking Zoe and Piper that I resent them a little.
I know it's horrible and I'm so ashamed of myself but I see them running around in the grass, sniffing everything in their path and I'm a little angry that Crash can't do that anymore.
I know this will pass but it's not fair to them. They're just as dependant on me as Crash was but I spent over a year devoted to Crash because of his health issues.
Everything I did, I did with Crash and his disease in mind. I changed their food for Crash, knowing that Piper and Zoe would eat whatever I gave them. I fed them boiled chicken and rice because it was good for Crash's digestion.
I would wait and take them out when it wasn't so hot because I knew the heat would tire Crash.
Zoe and Piper were secondary in my thoughts because they were healthy and didn't need my special attention. Now, I don't know what to do with them.

I laid in bed today and rubbed their bellies for a while. I know these feelings are temporary so I'm trying real hard not to neglect them. Life will eventually merge back into some kind of normalcy.

I found out it will take 2 - 3 weeks to get his ashes back. I have no idea why it will take that long but it will give me time to pick out an urn.
I had NO idea they had so many pet urns to choose from. It's unbelievable.

I guess I'm not the only crazy dog lady in the world.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

Yesterday, I had to make a horrible decision. I had to say goodbye to
my doggy soul mate, Crash.
He had been sick for a very long time.
Last year, he was diagnosed with Cushing's Disease and he would have good days and bad. Mostly good, I hope.
Friday, I noticed that he wouldn't eat and I didn't see him drink at all. Saturday morning, I was able to tempt him with a little sausage but he still wouldn't drink. Saturday night, he wouldn't eat at all and I could tell he was very uncomfortable.

I stayed up with him that night. I didn't sleep a wink. He seemed to feel better when I was holding him so I sat up in bed and held him all night long. I fully expected him to die in my arms that night. By 6 am, I had made the decision to take him to the only clinic I knew that would be open on a Sunday. I called when they opened and although I had never been there before, they agreed to see me.
I took Crash in and the doctor never mentioned euthanasia. He said we would try some medications and subcutaneous fluids and see if that would perk him up a little. I took him home but he got progressively worse. He started throwing up his medication and even though I forced water and food down his throat, nothing I could do would make him feel better.
We went back to the vet's office Monday morning and they did a CBC (complete
blood count) and the results were not good. Crash was in kidney failure and severely anemic.




The doctor sat with me and discussed our options. We could try forcing fluids through his kidneys for 72 hrs, do another CBC and see if his levels were
better. If they were, it would mean that he would be better for a while but they would gradually creep back up into the danger zone again. If they didn't get better, well...we'd be back to square one.
Crash had been through so much already, I couldn't imagine leaving him for 3
days in a vet's office to be prodded and poked when he was already feeling so
bad. Crash was only happy when he was with me. How could I do that to him when I knew in my heart these would be his last days?
The other option was to have him put down. I knew that was what I needed to do. I knew he was miserable and I knew it would only get worse.
I asked the doctor how euthanasia worked and he described everything to me in
detail and we even spoke of his remains. I was given lots of options and I
chose to have him cremated and to keep his ashes.
This vet's office is located in an historic home in Galveston. I was put in a beautiful room that was probably once someone's living room or parlor.
They brought Crash to me and we sat in a rocking chair and I held him for
several minutes, telling him how much I love him, what a good dog he has been
over and over again.

When it was time, I was led to an exam room where the doctor gave Crash an
injection while I held him. He simply drifted off in my arms and I held
him until his heart stopped beating.
I truly feel that I did the right thing for Crash. He's no longer in pain and I believe that he can see again. I even prayed that it was my dad that came for him.


Some may think all this pain and heartbreak over a dog is silly but Crash was
literally and figuratively by my side for 10 yrs. No one, human or dog,
has ever loved me as much as Crash did. Zoe and Piper love me but not with
the total abandon and obsession that Crash did.
I'm truly devastated and miss him so much but if the movies don't lie, then
all dogs do, indeed, go to heaven.


Top Gun's Crash N Burn
03/16/96 - 08/28/06

Just for Colin

Apparently, Colin is tired of seeing the fat lady on top. Ha! When I typed that, I realized maybe Colin has a problem with fat women on top...but whatev.

Yes, the Astros won last night. But they're playing the Pirates....who beat them the night before.
So, I'm still hopeful yet not holding out any hope.

Our internet went down at work Thursday afternoon. Time Warner didn't get a guy out here until Friday evening.
So, I had to inform the public that our internet access was unavailable.
You would have thought I went around and shot their mothers.
"What? But I need to check my email!"

I understand that people (including me) have things that need to be done online but shit happens. Don't yell at me or the poor Time Warner technician. When the harried and beleaguered tech showed up, he told me he had been cursed out several times that day. "How many times can a person be cussed at in a day?" he asked.
I assured him that I was an easy going person and that he wouldn't get cursed out by me. That won me some extra time with him. After he fixed our problem, he showed me some problems with my router configuration and helped me fix that.
He said he doesn't normally do that but I was so sweet and understanding when he was hours late.

See, kids? When you show someone just a little compassion, you get something in return.

I should be racking up points for that and for the fact that I didn't kill these stupid bitches that come in here when there is a HUGE sign on the door that says "Internet Access is Temporarily Unavailable. We Apologize for the Inconvenience". They still walk in and look at the dark monitors and say, "Are the computers not working?"
At first, I left a few monitors on because if someone needed to use Word, Excel or just play solitaire or something, they were welcome to. But that confused the general public. "How can your computers be running if the internet is down??"
So, I turned the monitors off.
After a few hours, I eventually shut and locked my door because I couldn't stand the questions.
"Is it still down?"
"Do you know when it'll be back?"
"Can I try to get my email anyway?"
"How do you know it's still not working?"

I simply smiled and answered the questions but inside...oh inside, it was a different story.
I imagined myself bludgeoning people with my keyboard for each stupid question and not stopping until they were a bloody, pulsating pile of human jelly.

That still counts as compassionate, right?

What's that sound?

I believe that's the fat lady singing....

From Astros.com:

The Houston Astros effectively eliminated the slim hope they had to remain in postseason contention with a demoralizing loss to the Cincinnati Reds, who slugged and swatted their way to a 14-0 win..

I was fortunate enough to miss this game. I got in the car during the end of the 5th inning and heard "...and it's 13-0 Reds." I almost ran off the road.

The rookie pitcher, Jason Hirsch, had a horrible night.

It started with two outs in the second. Brandon Phillips homered to spark a four-run rally, capped by Scott Hatteberg's three-run shot to center field.

The third inning was worse. The Reds sent 11 batters to the plate, seven of whom recorded hits...

What bothers me the most is that Hirsch didn't stick around to answer questions and man up about his performance. He bolted out of the clubhouse.
I can understand he's probably upset and embarrassed about his night but what gains respect when things like that happens is your ability to take responsibility for it, own up to it, face it and move on.

Brad Lidge is going through a really REALLY bad time as a closing pitcher. So much so that he lost his closing pitcher job and is now in the relief pitching pool.
Brad doesn't run away from the questions. He stands at his locker and waits for the reporters to get to him and he answers every question.
He'll get past this bad patch. If Hirsch doesn't do the same, he might never move on.

So, I'm a girl and I'm sad for the players. I know they wanted this, they just couldn't seem to get their shit together this last half. I'm always more disappointed for the guys than I am for myself as a fan. Like I said...I'm a girl.

Oh and apparently "someone" read my previous post.
From H-Town Sports:

Chris Sampson, by the way, got a welcome call-up to the big club, replacing Fernando Nieve, who was placed on the 15 day DL.

I can't WAIT to see Sampson back on the Astros' mound!

The Mid-August Astros Rant

Far be it from me to pretend that I know more than a Major League Baseball manager like Phil Garner or a General Manager like Tim Purpura but...what the FUCK is going on?
We have problems with our pitching and Brandon Backe is on the DL again, what do they do? They bring in Wandy Rodriguez again. He was Round Rocked for a reason. Wandy comes in and does a TERRIBLE job. What do they do? Allow him another chance....another chance when Chris Sampson is wasted in Round Rock as we speak? What about Matt Albers? What about Dave Borkowski?
It's almost like they are doing the opposite of what they SHOULD be doing. Is this sabotage? Have they stolen the plot from the movie Major League?

It's not all the pitchers' fault, though. There has been NO run support. Luke Scott can't carry the team and Aubrey Huff's two homeruns last night were wasted.

I don't see a fat lady singing yet, but she's warming up.

Bullies and the Women Who Kick Their Ass...

Adam blogged about a neighborhood bully and drawing a parallel to the conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.
Although I try to stay informed, I'm so past blogging about politics and world events.
However, I don't mind blogging about mind-numbingly boring things like this kid I beat the hell out of when I was a little girl.
When we first moved into the neighborhood, we moved in across the street from the *Johnson's.
Later, we ended up buying the house next door to them.
But, quickly, my parents became friends with the Johnsons. They had 3 kids: a boy my age and two young girls.
There was Big *Billy, the dad, so to differentiate between Billys, we called his son, LITTLE Billy.
Now, I can imagine that having the word "Little" precede your name is enough to make any boy angry but Little Billy had some major problems.
He was a little shithead.
He had pretty much fought (and lost) everyone in the neighborhood and I never really thought I'd be at the receiving end of his shitheadedness because he was deathly afraid of my father.
However, walking home from school one afternoon, I guess he had run out of kids to mess with so he started on me.
I wasn't an idiot. I knew it wouldn't take much to make Little Billy cry. I had seen him cry on numerous occasions when someone bigger or smarter in the neighborhood had him in a headlock. So, after two blocks of being annoyed by Little Billy walking behind me, I calmly spun around and swung my very heavy bookbag and caught him on the side of the head, knocking him and his glasses to the ground.
I simply turned around and kept walking.
I could hear Little Billy crying the rest of the way home.

Later his mom came over to inform my parents that I had broken her son's glasses.
I had already told my dad what happened because I thought it was hilarious and he's the one that taught me how to fight in the first place so I figured he'd get a kick out of it.
He did.

His reply to Little Billy's mom: "So? Sounds to me like he asked for it."

The Johnson's were forever borrowing shit from us. Hell, I bet to this day half of my dad's yard equipment and tools are in their garage.
On this one particular day, my job was to sweep the sidewalks and driveway after my dad did the yardwork.
The problem was, dad explained, the Johnson's had borrowed our big push broom and hadn't returned it.
So, I had to go across the street and retrieve our broom.
Little Billy was sitting in the garage, lying in wait.

"My dad wants our broom back, LITTLE Billy."

Surprisingly, he said nothing and just handed me the broom.
When I turned to walk back across the street, that dickless wonder jumped me from behind.
He was a fat little fucker and I was flattened in the driveway.

Man this pissed me off and I came up swinging.
I don't even remember if my eyes were open or not, I just started punching. He got my right fist right in the mouth and my left between the eyes and I believe another right in his nose because it started bleeding almost immediately.
That punch between his eyes broke his glasses...possibly either newly repaired or just new.
I left Little Billy, crying loudly in the driveway.

Later, Big Billy came over to inform my dad that once again, I had broken his son's glasses.
My dad said, "Yes, she did. I saw the whole thing. And if your son lays another hand on my daughter, I'm going to break his glasses too and then shove them up YOUR ass. Wanna beer?"

My dad and Big Billy drank a few beers and Little Billy never messed with me again.
Just the other day I saw Little Billy over at his parents' house when I was visiting my mother. He made a point to come over and speak to me. He's got a family now, you know...wife...kids...etc...

I wonder if he remembers how I kicked his ass when we were kids.

I wouldn't want to face him now, LITTLE Billy ain't so little anymore.

Bloody Ball

I don't know what it is about me but I like a good fight.
Now, I don't get the opportunity to actually fight with someone but I like watching a good knockdown drag out fight.
I love it when someone gets mad enough to just go after someone.
I think that's why I like hockey. I don't really give a shit who's scoring goals, I just want to see some toothless Canadian throw down his gloves and start whaling on another toothless Canadian.

But nothing is more exciting than a bench-clearing brawl in a baseball game.
I was hoping for one while the Astros were playing the Cubs.

The night before last, I watched the catcher, Michael Barrett and the pitcher, Carlos Zambrano get frustrated with the umpires bad pitching calls. After a really good pitch being called a ball, Barrett comes out of his catchers crouch and stands in front of homeplate, giving a sign to everyone out on the field. I was watching the game with my Astro-loving mother and I said, "He's telling Zambrano to hit the batter, I just know it."
The very next pitch caught Aubrey Huff in the middle of the back and took him down.
He finally got up and took his base. The fans were pissed. They booed Zambrano all night.

Later, I can't remember if it was Oswalt or a relief pitcher but he hit one of the Cubs guys and it seemed intentional to me.
Tensions were high.

Last night, Roger Clemens was up to bat and that little pipsqueak pitcher Matteo HITS Clemens.
Roger Clemens is such a big, strong dude that the ball sort of hit his arm and just dropped.
The Rocket doesn't give much away, he just glanced over at the pitcher's mound as if to say "Don't worry, young grasshoppah, I'm about to take you to school."
Unfortunately, the next time it was Matteos turn to bat, a pinch hitter was put in.
The crowd was unhappy. Roger didn't care, he quickly fired a ball right into the batter's left arm.

Of course the crowd cheered and the umpire came unglued.

God, how I wanted a fight. I wanted someone to charge the mound and the players to come flying out of their dugouts!
What is wrong with me that I'm so blood-thirsty? Is it the violent world we now live in? Is it television or movies? Is it rap music?

Or is the sight of a bunch of men beating the shit out of each other something a woman's dreams are made of?

Tiny Hobos

I'd like to know when it became acceptable for children to become panhandlers.

Driving to and from work, I notice a plethora of small children, standing on the side of the road at busy intersections with jars and signs, begging for money.
Their little handmade signs usually say something like "Help us go to the State Champs" but it's sometimes hard to read because they are handwritten by 7 yr olds.
A lot of times I see them with an adult or two but sometimes not.
What parents are letting their kids beg for money on the roadsides like hobos?
When did it become ok to raise money in this fashion?

When I was in extra-curricular activities and needed to raise money for trips we had bake sales, car washes, garage sales, candy sales, etc.
We NEVER begged for money at highway intersections.
I know my parents would never had allowed it and I can't imagine any of my friends' parents allowing it.
Why is it standard fund-raising procedure now?

1. It's dangerous. You're in a busy intersection literally INCHES away from the highway, one wrong step, one out of control car and you're toast.
2. IT'S BEGGING. You are no different from the homeless man holding the cardboard sign that says "Hungry, homeless vet."
You're asking people to put money in your jar without earning it. You're not even willing to work for it. You are now simply a hobo. A State Champion Hobo.

I imagine the homeless people are getting pissed off. Here are all these suburban kids taking over their turf. I assure you that hobo was there before you, kid.
There is one homeless dude that stands on the corner of an intersection of a major highway that I cross everyday.
He likes to change it up a little. I think he might be an out of work actor because he has many different characters.
One day he's a homeless veteran with a very pronounced limp. When the light turns red, he'll even limp around in circles for you, like a handicapped monkey. Then the next day he's got his arm in a dirty sling.
Friday morning, I noticed he was wearing an eye patch.
See, kids, this hobo has a gimic, a schtick. He's not just panhandling, he's ENTERTAINING.

I don't give him any money either but I appreciate his efforts all the same.

Skankeralla Writes

That skank went and got herself her own blog.

Email me if you want to read it.

Allow Myself to Introduce...Myself...

I bet you forgot me, didn't you?

Well...the HELL that was my project is mostly over.
I can't believe that it's done. I also can't believe that I did it by myself.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that I would get a little help with this but I found myself alone everyday, making decisions and putting things together.
It's bullshit but whatever, I'm finished.
My brain is fried, though. I now understand why smart people can seem so dumb. I'm not saying I'm smart or anything but I have been working so hard and concentrating so much on building databases and configuring software that my brain is literally exhausted and after 9 or 10 hours, it refuses to work.
I fucking got LOST on the way home the other day.
LOST. In my own town!
I was driving in a daze, I guess, and suddenly I thought to myself, "Where in the hell am I?" Nothing looked familiar even though the scenery consisted of things I had seen my entire life.
Hell, I didn't know if I was going to remember how to create a blog post.
You're lucky I did!

I do have a little story.

The other day I decided to take a break from my hardwork. No one else was here except for a coworker.
My coworker, whom I call Suck (inside joke), is only 18. Why she and I have become friends, I don't know. I'm a LOT older than 18 but for some reason, she thinks I'm cool and tells me all her secrets. She even invited me out with her friends one night. For about a nanosecond, I thought about going and then I realized I'm 34 26! I can't hang out with a bunch of 18 year old girls. If we go to a club, dudes will be like "Umm...why'd you bring yer mom?"
I blame it on my air of immaturity. It keeps me looking young, feeling young and apparently, acting young.
Anyway...
Suck decides that she has a crush on a boy that she's been friends with for a few years and she's got his cell phone number and wants to ask him out.
I told her to go for it, so she does. She calls him, thinking she'll get his voicemail and leave him a cute message. However, someone answers and she FREAKS OUT.
She sticks the phone in my face and whispers/shrieks "I can't talk to him! Pretend to be me! PLEASE!!!"
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the phone:
"Hi! Who is this?"
"This is Cowboy(real name), who is this?"
I used Suck's name and said "Oh I was looking for *John."
"This is his dad and this is my cell phone but John used it this weekend cuz his is broken. Is that how you got this number?"
Me: "Uh...yeah probably."
Cowboy chuckled and said, "My wife is going to wonder who all these girls are that are calling my phone!"
Ok...Cowboy sounded REALLY cute and I guess I didn't realize the change in my voice but I was told that I said "Oh my, I hope I didn't get you into trouble!" in a very flirty way.
Suddenly, Cowboy and I were in a conversation. I don't remember what all we said but I was throwing my head back and laughing at his cute little jokes like he was the funniest man in the world.
Finally, Suck pinched my arm and whispered "Oh my God! Are you FLIRTING with his DAD?????"

Shit, I was!

I ended the conversation asking Cowboy to have John call me/Suck.

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to Suck, "If things don't work out with John, I think his dad is interested."

Vacation Ovah

And it's back to work for me.
I've got a HUGE project coming up at work so I'll be VERY busy for the next week but I thought I'd give you a few vacation highlights.

• I love how I call it a "vacation" yet I never left town!


• Monday, I spent cleaning (you wouldn't know it by looking at my place) and catching up on tons of laundry. I was actually SORE by Monday evening.


• Tuesday: *cough*sexintheafternoon*cough*


• Tuesday evening was probably the best. It sounds stupid and silly but I made a pot of tea (Earl Grey Creme), turned on the TV to watch the Astros and got into bed in my comfy pajamas and with a humongous stack of Entertainment Weekly's that I had neglected for weeks. It was wonderful!


• I spent way too much money here. They recently opened a store locally and I'm in trouble. I've been enjoying the aforementioned Earl Grey Creme, Rooibos Tropica, Emerald Princess and Sweet Cranberry Black. I can't wait to go back for more.


• All week, I've been giggling with glee over this Mel Gibson debacle. I absolutely LOVE it when famous people go batshit crazy in public!

That's all I've got for now. Now, it's time to check up on all your blogs!

Vacation

Believe it or not, kiddies, I'm taking some real vacation time.
For the last two years, all my vacation leave has been used for funerals. First, when my father died and then the next year, my nephew died.
I've never actually taken vacation for some real R & R...until now.
So...I'll be quiet for the next few days and then when I'm back to work, I'll be SUPER busy moving computers until next week.
But I'll check on you kids, to make sure you're staying out of trouble.

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Gurlz R Dum

I admit it. Sometimes, females aren't the brightest human beings.
I think it's because we're mostly ruled by our emotions.

Now, I'm pretty level-headed, I think. I tend to have relationships like men do. I can make myself NOT get emotionally involved in someone if I feel like it's not going to end well.
However, when I do get my heart involved it's IN there for the long haul.

There are only two exboyfriends that I am NOT in regular contact with.
The rest of them are my good friends.
I don't know why this is. I don't believe I seek them out. Shit, most of the time I'm so pissed off at them that I would be happy to never speak to them again but it seems that each of them find it important to keep me in their lives. Maybe my shit is just that good, I don't know.
After a period of time, when the anger or hurt feelings subside, I enjoy having them as friends.
I like to know that they are doing well and what changes are going on in their lives.
Once I love someone, I feel connected with them for the rest of my life.

Having said all that, the most recent ex and I had a HUGE falling out a few months ago and I felt like being friends with him was actually hurting me more than never speaking to him again.
So, I gave him the ol' heavy ho via a very damaging email and it's been silent for 3 months or more.

Then, the other night I had a dream. I dreamt he died.
It was so real and so vivid that I was really upset even after I woke.
I thought about it all day. Why did I dream about him like this? Why can't I stop thinking about it?
Intellectually, I know that dreams don't predict the future but I coudn't stop thinking about him until I KNEW for a fact that he was still alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere.

I fought the urge, but I did it. I emailed the bastard.
I was friendly, yet, succinct. "You can tell me to fuck off but at least I'll know you're alive while doing it." was my last line.

He replied. I didn't get the "fuck off". Well, not in those words. I got one line: "Yes, I'm alive."
Which translates to: fuck off.
Trust me. Had I received an email like I sent him, I would be saying "fuck off" too.
I am not sure what I was expecting from him but I kind of wished I hadn't emailed him.
This is why being a girl sucks. We care. After everything that happens, we fucking care.

Idiots.

Leather & Skank

It's just like Skankerella. I don't hear from her in a while and she sends me an email like THIS.
Keep the kids out of this one, my friends.


Dear De,

Have you ever felt like being naughty? No...I don't just mean naughty, I mean naughty.
Sure you do...I think we all do.

When I am feeling particularly dirty, I call my friend Dufflebags. He earned the nickname because he brings two large duffle bags with him when we "visit".

Dufflebags, or Duff, is a very VERY straight-laced professional business man.
He's 100% uppercrust suburbia.
That is until he empties those duffle bags.
Inside those bags is a secret life filled with debased sexual activity and debauchery.
Duff removes his monogrammed dress shirt, silk tie and all morality when the contents of those bags are revealed.

Every tool known to sexual man are inside. He systematically arranges everything on the table in order of use.
Wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, rope, blindfolds, nipple clamps, lube, various anal plugs and dildos (of the vibrating and non-vibrating variety), crops, floggers, leather straps and paddles sit in neat rows, awaiting his pleasure (or mine). Sometimes he uses only a few, sometimes he uses them all at once. It's a surprise every time.

Duff is a top. He is in control and he controls the pleasure and pain he doles out.
He had a new toy the last time we met. It was a 12 inch leather slapper.
It had quite a sting and after several minutes, I didn't like it anymore and I started to actually dislike Duff a little.

Later, after playtime was over. He decided to let me top him for a few minutes. Just to see what it was like.
Oh, my dear, the devil took me over at that moment.
I blindfolded Duff, cuffed his wrists and fastened them together, flipped him over, grabbed that leather slapper and I whaled on his ass until he whimpered for me to stop.
It felt good. I felt powerful and vindicated. I was also VERY turned on.

Don't misunderstand me, dear De, I love being topped by a man as unscrupulous and depraved as my lovely Duff but give me an inch and I'll take a mile.
In this case, I took a mile of leather and left it on his ass.

Kisses,
S

Andrea Yates

Today, Andrea Yates was found not guilty in the drowning deaths of her 5 children.


When you say that this woman killed her 5 small children without knowing the facts, she sounds like a monster.
Instead, she was a very very sick woman.

The person who should have been on trial was that husband of hers who kept her locked up in that house with the 5 kids forcing her to give birth time and time again against doctors' wishes.

Everyone knew something was wrong with her. Witnesses testified that she would sit around in a catatonic state or pick at her scalp until she had huge sores.
This is clearly a psychotic individual yet she was popping out kids, left and right.

I don't expect a woman who systematically drowned her five children to be let go and walk the streets but a guilty verdict would have been VERY wrong.
She doesn't need to be in a maximum security prison, she needs help.

The problem is...it's too little too late.

Excuses, excuses

It was a slightly busy weekend and a very busy Monday.
I know tomorrow is going to be crazy but hopefully I'll have time to really put down a good blog post.
I also have a Skankerella email that I'm trying to decide if it's safe to post.
I think maybe I should think twice about those kind of things.

I've mentioned this several times but I hate that I started out this blog using my real first name.
Now, I don't know how to change things without losing the very generous people who read my blog regularly. I would also like to keep my archives.
Any ideas?

My best friend wrote me an email after reading this blog post. She thinks the tattoo on the wrist thing is a bad idea.
Of course, I'll never let her forget how she thinks I'm a trashy tattooed slut. (Kidding!)
Anyway, she's got a point. A tattoo like that is difficult to hide and even though it would be ok for me to have it where I am now, what if I needed to change jobs and they forbid things like that?
I mean, I AM a freaking librarian!
I still want another tattoo.....but I might have to pick another location.

For those of you who wanted to see my existing tattoos: I have pics...email me.
For those of you hoping the pics are nude: You wish.

For the Benjamins

I think I have the weirdest job sometimes.

Today, this guy calls and needs information.

I know who the guy is. He's a head injury patient and the only thing he can do is play video games. He's obssessive about them.
I guess a while back someone told him he can find cheats for his video games online but he doesn't have a computer so he came here to look this stuff up.
The problem is that now, after his accident, he can't remember how to operate a computer.
I tried to show him but he became very upset and angry with himself. So, after a few days of this, I finally just found the information for him myself and printed it out.
Now, I'm his video game go-to gal.

He called today because he can't get a ride and wanted to know how to beat this particular game.
Shit, I don't know anything about video games and wasn't sure what he was looking for but I found him some information and started reading it over the phone.
I suddenly suddenly realized how this must sound to the people in the building:

Me: You should by now have the dynamite bow, equip this and as he runs over some kind of circles in the ground fire at them. They will blow up and injure him, if you run out of ammo use dynamite sticks to throw at them.
Don't shoot him, shoot the bluish circles because it will create a massive fire and blow him up.
If he starts throwing dynamite sticks at you, shoot the sticks, not him.

He was excited. This helped him tremendously and he thanked me repeatedly.

I hung up, wondering how many people get paid to teach others how to kill?

Ok...how many people who AREN'T Islamic extremist get paid to teach others how to kill?

Stupanity

aka Stupid Humanity. (word stolen from Hugo)

I drive by this apartment complex everyday. Last night, I noticed fire trucks, police cars, news vans and several unmarked vans lined up on the street in front of the buildings. I saw a fire truck with it's hose uncoiled in the middle of the parking lot and I thought "fire" but that sure was a lot of emergency vehicles for an apartment fire.
Even the thought of an apartment fire gives me chills because that is my biggest fear of living in an apartment.

I find out a little while later that it wasn't really a fire...it was an explosion.

The explosion happened at the Lakeview Apartments around 3pm Wednesday. Two men were inside an apartment unit. One man was killed and the other suffered flash burns. Nearby buildings were evacuated at the time.

Alledgedly, two fucktards were inside either building a bomb or playing with explosive materials and screwed up.
They destroyed their apartment and others near them.

See? This pisses me off.
When I see on the news about fires, explosions, murders, burglaries in apartment complexes, I know it could happen in mine. It doesn't matter what kind of neighborhood you live in, when you're in an apartment, you're mixing with various fucktardery.
Some fucking idiot is going to make a bomb, let their kids play with matches, smoke in bed, forget a candle burning or set his kitchen on fire while making ramen noodles.
This doesn't just affect the idiot, it affects everyone around said idiot.

I'm not all that afraid of losing my earthly possessions but I am afraid of my dogs and cat dying in my apartment while I'm at work.

I don't know if I could go on knowing my dogs died, trapped in our apartment because of some fucking retard making a bomb out of gasoline and ignorance.

Update: Holy crap! They are going to explode the remaining chemicals IN THE APARTMENT.


Update II: They are going to detonate it live. You should click on that link! And we're having a thunderstorm as we speak, also. I don't know what's thunder and what's an explosion!

Great. The weather may be a factor. We're getting thunder, lightning and, of course, rain.

Ok...bomb squad is putting on their gear. It could happen soon.
The reporters say the fire alarm will go off, then they will explode the chemicals.
They've put dump trucks in front of the apartment to act as a shield but this could destroy many apartments.
Craziness!

Ok...so far some of it was detonated but it was like a few wisps of smoke. How anti-climatic.
They evacuated HUNDREDS of people and shut down a major expressway for two wisps of smoke.

Well....I'm glad no ones apartment was destroyed but what a let down...I was waiting for a major explosion...shit flying all over the place...total destruction.
We got two plumes of smoke.
Whatev.

Ok...there is LOTS of smoke...news breaking through again. A fire has resulted from the explosion.
It's contained in the one apartment though and there are fire trucks everywhere...no big deal, I guess.

Ok...done with live blogging now.

Tattoo Intervention

I want another tattoo. Like, right now.

Tattoos are addictive. Anyone with one or two (or more) will tell you this.

I have never regretted any of mine. They are discreet, feminine, tasteful and they all mean something to me.

I have an idea for a tattoo but it's going to be intricate and expensive. I want JUST the right artist for this one so I'll have to wait on that one. That's ok. I'm not in a hurry.
I've seen so many people with tattoos in the inside of their wrists and I love it.
That's where I want to get one, NOW.
Some people think it's trashy to get a tattoo so close to the hand like that.
However, I like the idea of being able to wear a cuff bracelet to cover it up.

I'm not the tattoo-looking sort of girl. I can dress so every tattoo is covered and if I told a person who just met me that I have 5 tattoos, I'd have to show it to them to proof it. They usually don't believe me.

I don't know why I love tattoos. I waited until I was 26 to get my first one. I didn't really even plan it, but I knew in the back of my mind that I would get a tattoo at some point.
I always thought I was too fat so I told myself if I lost weight and became skinny, I'd get a tattoo as a reward. Well...I'd die waiting, so one day when I was entertaining friends from out of state, we decided to go into a tattoo shop on The Strand in Galveston and I made the decision then and there to get my first tatt.

Now, five tattoos later, I am not done.
I like being able to express who I am through the tattoos. A few represent what was going on in my life at the time so it's almost like a little timeline on my body.

Anyway...I'm trying to talk myself out of a wrist tattoo. I think it's cute on other people, I just don't know how I'll like it on myself.

I hate to say this, as a 34 year old, independent woman but another deciding factor is my mother.
She absolutely HATES tattoos and each time I've gotten one, I've had to endure the lectures and the disapproving glares.
I was raised to respect my elders, especially my parents so I listen, nod, tell her this is the last one and just do whatever the hell I want.
The wrist tattoo will be hard to ignore for her. I, also, think she's a little ashamed of me with all my tattoos.
She always asks for her birthday and mothers day for us to attend church with her. I am the only one who has a dress code.
I have to wear long pants and my hair down. She doesn't want me showing my tattoos in church.
I'm not that much of an angry rebel to wear a skirt or capris and my hair up to openly defy her.
I just laugh and follow her orders. It's HER birthday after all.
But...it bothers me to think she's ashamed of me. It's not her fault. It's just the generation she grew up in. Only biker sluts and trashy whores had tattoos back in her day. She knows that the attitudes toward people with bodyart has changed, it's just hard for her to accept it on her own child. She also truly believes that I'm making a huge mistake and will regret it when I get older.
I continuously tell her that these are not decisions I've made as a young person. I have waited long enough to make a commitment that I know I can live with. But she still sees me as a little girl sometimes.

I feel like if she starts to yell or lecture me on this next tattoo, I might have to get a little harsh.
It's my life, my body and my decision to make.

She'll get mad at me, but she'll get over it.

Now...the next question is...what kind of design will I get?

PS: Maybe I should sell space on my body for commercial tattoos. A company or individual can purchase space for a logo or an advertisement. Shit. I could probably fit a billboard on my ass!
Hmm...great idea. I think I like it!