My Epiphany

The family visit was nice. I had to work Friday so I missed out on the fun touristy day of visiting all of the downtown cool little stops, but hey, you can't win them all. I know it's cheesy, but I really do enjoy taking newcomers around my city. It's fun to see it through someone else's eyes. It's fun to show them what I think makes Nashville great and to see what they ask to visit to compare and contrast. I just like to analyze everything like that I suppose.

The Mermaids are back where they belong, but I believe that the "Censored" labels will stay with them as a statement, at least for now.

I was trying to think about what to write about when it occurred to me that I had a major realization, an epiphany, if you will, the week before Macey's family got here, that I've yet to discuss here.
See, what had happened was...

A friend of mine came over to visit, I haven't seen him in, wow, like over a year, maybe close to two. We used to party together, go to bars sometimes; you know the kind of friend. Well, we were talking about the last time we'd been out to a bar; it was to a drag show several years ago, before I even knew Macey. He commented about how much fun that had been, it being the first drag show he'd ever been to and all. (Why is it that I am always the first person to take all these "straight" men in my life to drag shows, yet they all always want to go back for more? More on that question later.)
This particular friend was just enamored with the whole scene. He loved the lights, the stage, the performers, the SHOW. So at some point in the conversation he says to Macey and I, “You guys need to take me to another drag show!"
I paused, and thought, a quick check-list ran through my mind, Connections, the place this guy was so taken with, has long since closed it's doors, The Chute has closed as has The Cabaret...my bars one by one, and I ran through a list of about 7, are all gone now. History now, in the annuals of Gay Nashville. Lost to the new era of Lipstick Lounge and Tribe and whatever else is out there, but I don't personally know of a single place with a drag show and a stage anymore.

Then it struck me, like lightening across the dark night sky, simultaneously illuminating as well as shocking...

I'm an Old Dyke!

Gone are my days of bar hopping from one little dive to another for quarter beers here and a drag show there and lesbian jello wrestling way over there and back over here for the quarter beers again. Gone are my days of showing the straight friends the cool drag shows and giving them a glimpse into the silly and fun world of homo-partying.

I got a little bit sad about that for a minute, and then I realized that I am perfectly happy to be an old dyke: I traded off the hangovers, the near DUI's, the "did I do that?"'s for a wonderful life in which I am much more rested, happy, and loved.
I wouldn't trade my station for those old days for anything in the world!

The Pros and Cons of Blogging

So I've been weighing out the pros and cons -so to speak- of blogging. Not because I'm trying to decide whether or not to continue it, but rather just out of boredom. I usually make these pros and cons lists to help me make important decisions, but sometimes, like this one, it's purely out of a need to entertain myself. I've made a list of pros and cons of being the interim girlfriend, working for a mobile phone company, living in the suburbs, not having my parents in my life, having my parents back in my life, being epileptic... and so on.

So, here goes this list.





it's waaaaaaaay down here for some reason, just keep scrolling....

The Pros and Cons Of Blogging
	Pros	Cons
	1. It's FUN!	1. It's time consuming
	2. It's like therapy, only cheaper!	2. There's a certain loss of "privacy"
	3. Helps you brush up on my writing skills.	3. Fierce competition to be the best. (can be Pro or Con)
	4. Helps you keep abreast of research skills.	4. Can cause carpal tunnel syndrome
	5. Exercises the imagination.	5. Can be distracting from important things like work, school, dinner on the stove…
	6. You get to "meet" lots of new "friends"	6. SPAMMERS
	7. Learn about all sorts of new and interesting things from above mentioned friends.	7. Can create jealousy when your co-workers see your wonderful blog and wish that they could make one half as beautiful and entertaining!
	8. Great opportunity to teach others all sorts of things that are important to YOU!

WWC - Treasure & Junk

Before we get to the Weekly Words Challenge, I want to say thank you to those who gave me input on the censorship issue that I am dealing with in my home this week. It's always interesting and revelatory to hear other's opinions. I value and welcome them always.

With family coming to visit, it is always stressful for any couple, I'm sure, but add to the mix our situation and bam... instant chaos can certainly ensue. For the most part, we have been quite blessed with extremely accepting and tolerant family, mostly on Macey's side. Ok, pretty much all on Macey's side. Her mom gave us two wedding receptions, TWO. She went to Canada with us to see us get married and has been nothing but 100% supportive. She loves me, she said so in her toast at both receptions, and calls me just to chat sometimes.
If every now and again we have to take an extra step or two to be a little bit more accomodiating to the average straight family member coming into town, well then, so be it. My paintings can sit with "Censored" labels until family is gone. Besides, it does give the opportunity for a discussion about censorship and when it is and is not appropriate and why it should and should not be used.
So, anyways, here we go, on to ....

This week's words were Treasure and Junk. Now, I did work on clearing out a lot of junk from my house this week, however, snapping photos of it en route to the Goodwill was something that I forgot to do. Here's what I did get for the challenge:

A LOT of Junk became garbage

was this piece of junk treasure hunting?

I found chocolate filled treasure in my easter basket!

Books hold many treasures for me!

I've Been Censored!

In my own home too! I'm not really sure how to feel about this. Here's the situation. As previously mentioned, I paint mermaids. Naked mermaids, usually, so breasts tend to show. I don't consider it to be anything other than what it is. It's not pornography, it's not vile or obscene. Nor is it meant to be. It's just that honestly, if you were half woman, half fish, living in the depths of the sea. Where in the hell would you get any clothing and why would you want it?
Being a mermaid is about being free. Free from the confines of human life. Free from the restrictions of human law. Able to live free from the injustices and atrocities that occur up here, on the surface. It's about surviving and thriving in an environment that mankind couldn't inhabit. It's about growing a tail and learning to swim when cast out to sea, expected to drown. I paint them because they represent everything special to me.

OK, so on to the censorship part... Wifester has an aunt and two cousins coming to visit us this week. She gently said to me the other day, " I know this is a delicate subject, but would it be alright if we took some of the mermaids down, just while Visiting Aunt. and the boys are here? Just the naked ones. You know, boobs and all..." I was flabbergasted. I didn't know how to react. I said

"No, it's not alright, but OK, whatever" but in all actuality, I don't want to take them down. So, I think I've come up with a better solution than the removal of my work:

I can make a statement, and hide the nekkedness from the young eyes all at the same time.

"Fat Mermaid"
oil on canvas
by Angela Schleicher

"Birth of a Mermaid"
by Angela Schleicher
acrylic on canvas

So, after a long discussion with my wife, I found out that her reason for wanting to censor me has less to do with hiding mermaid breasts and more to do with trying to make sure that she was not prematurely exposing children who she barely knew to images that she was unsure how their mother would react to. Keeping the peace with family whom you've had a long going struggle with I can understand, however, when my holy roller, gospel preaching,bible thumping, born again parents came over to visit for the first time to see me in over 6 years, I didn't hide my naked mermaid breasts from them. I didn't even hide my paintings of naked alien women embraced and intertwined in love-making bliss, not my naked butt paintings either. I left it all out there for them to see, this is who I am, this is where I am, take it or leave it. I'm not hiding me from you anymore.
Maybe I'm in a different place in my life. Maybe I care less due to having had such an extended period of sheer absence of my family from my life. I learned that I can survive and stand strong without having to change who I am to conform, to satiate someone else's ideal of what or who I should be.

Come on, give it to me... what do you guys think? Let me have it honestly...Should the paintings go in the closet(no pun intended) until the aunt has left, or should the statement be made?Opinions are respected here, even when they're WRONG! ;)

From Pollyanna to Poly-offender

OK, it's time to set the record straight. It seems like everyone's assumption, from my last posting, was that it is relatively simple to get kicked out of catholic school.

Truth is, that happened in the 7th grade and I had been steadily trying since the 4th grade to get myself expelled. I began school there in 3rd grade and by the 4th I'd had enough. Sometimes, I really do learn quickly.
As innocuous as those 6 little words really were, and as trivial of a situation for that to have been expelled over, in all honesty, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was warned. I was told "One more time..." a couple of times. So by then, I knew that I was skating on thin ice, and therefore, I proceeded to sharpen my blades.

I was punished heavily at home for the expulsion, but it was soooooooooo worth it.
The following year I attended public schools and saw things like cocaine deals in the classroom, guns confiscated from cars, graffiti on walls. I was no longer the naive catholic school girl with Pollyanna vision, obscuring reality. I was a hardened Metro Public School kid.

WWC and How I got the boot from Catholic School

O.K. , so this week's WWC words are "foreign" and "domestic" which was mostly all obtained while I was in one place on Saturday night. Before we get to that, though, I think it's time to elaborate on the story of (insert drum roll here....)

How I came to be a Catholic School Reject

I went to the full on plaid-skirt, saddle oxford shoes, mass every morning, nuns teaching class kind of catholic school. I was one of those kids whose tops of hands were perpetually red and swollen from the ruler slaps. My arms were almost always the essence of cooked spaghetti noodles by the end of the day from being made to stand in a corner holding all of my books in outstretched, crucification style, while silently reciting the Our Father 25 times or a couple dozen Hail Marys. I've always had a penchant for challenging authority, and I suppose catholic school isn't the ideal place for a child with a budding authority defiance disorder. I guess that could be argued, though, because I believe that I actually got quite a bit of successful practice at defying the authority while enrolled at aforementioned catholic school. I was one of two, count us one, two ... kids that dared to steal our parents smokes and give it a try on the daily walk to the local public library down the road after school. . . That's where a lot of us walked to hang out and wait for our parents to get off of work and come pick us up. 7th graders. We were the shit. We got caught stealing root beer from the gas station on the way to that library. Banned from the gas station. Joe Cool and I were quite proud. Everyone else was pissed off and took it upon themselves to remind us daily that stealing is a sin. So is smoking, by the way. We learned that from our goody two-shoes classmates too. None of that got me evicted from the halls of the overtly oppressive, male dominated institution that is catholic school. It was six little words. I still say them today. Sometimes in jest. Sometimes in anger. But usually not quite as naively as they came out that particular day.
scene:
The class is in line for restroom break:
Boys standing silently in single file line to the right.
Girls standing silently in single file line to the left.

Someone (to this day, I don't know who) sneezes...a loud "AAAAHHHCCOOOO"

Me: (instinctively, as I've been trained to) "God Bless You!"

Sister Mary Margret "Silence in the hallway! That's another detention for you, Angie"

now, pay attention here... this is what gets you expelled from catholic school....

Me: "Kiss my ass!" ( with an exaggerated eye roll) that's the first three words...

Sister Mary Margaret "What did you just say to me?"

Me: cleared my throat and then said boldly the final three words that ended my catholic school career "GO TO HELL"


And there you have it. That's my story. Now, I beg you to reconsider sending you child to catholic school.

Ok... now that memory lane has been traveled, lets get to some real fun, the WWC! If you want in on the action, go visit Tink, she'll show yah the ropes.

warning: (my dear had custody of the cherished camera, so again, I was forced to cell phone photo it this week, sorry for the blurry photos! (I need my own damned camera!)

with no further ado, here's my interpretation of "foreign"













for domestic we have...



this is about as domestic as it gets


Macey's favorite beer is brewed in the first brewery in the United States























who was drinking all this wine??


and since I'm half mexican and half german, but born in the USA, I get to go in the category of both domestic and foreign!



so were these...













and were in good company, cuz if you think about it, Lady Liberty is both foreign and domestic too!
Macey took this one when she was being a camera-hog, so I guess I'll forgive her.









That's my mostly drinkable WWC for this week ;) hope you enjoyed it.
Next week's words areT:
Treasure
and
Junk

Stop by Tink's if you want to join the fun!

Seven Weird, Random, or Inconsequential Facts

A Meme, yup, I got tagged, but no worries, I won't tag you.
I got tagged by No Polar Coordiantes, so, in the spirit of continuity, here goes.

Seven weird, random or inconsequential facts about me:

1) My early childhood was deeply influenced by the house full of hippie - musician - songwriters that lived next door to me. I babysat their children and learned about Buddhism from them while attending Catholic School.

2) I was eventually expelled from the above mentioned Catholic School.

3) I like to paint naked mermaids.

4) I almost always sneeze in 3's.

5) I was once a girl soccer champ in an all boy's league ( see, feminism starts early)

6) I can't carry a tune in a bucket, but I'll still do karaoke, with some liquid courage.

7) I love to cook and I love gardening, yet I will not claim domesticity.













That's it for my meme. Remember, if you want to do the meme thing, go see No Polar Coordinates. She'll hook you up. ;)

Ahhhh....it was sooooo good!!

My first date with Macey was beautiful. She swept me off my feet. She picked me up, looking all polished and cute, took me out to dinner at Shintomi (my favorite sushi place) and then to Rumors Wine Bar, an uber cool little artsy bar in an uber cool little artsy district of 12 Ave. South. She held my hand on the way home and when her hand touched mine, I knew I was home. We've been inseparable ever since.
My next truly memorable date with my true love was when she took me to see Béla Fleck with the Nashville Symphony. We went to The Melting Pot for dinner, drank much wine, then walked the 2nd Ave SoBro district amid the tourists, then headed over to TPAC for the show. Macey knows how to make me swoon...
When we were in Ohio this winter, she took me to Severance Hall to see the Cleveland Orchestra perform Beethoven. Afterwards we went out to a jazz club, Nighttown for dinner and wine and more music. Again, my girl really performs on the "date" game.
Now these may be every weekend events for some, but not me, and I don't want them to be. I enjoy enjoying the rarity and novelty of "special" nights.
A normal date for us would be a simple dinner and movie or trip to an art show. Maybe some wine and candle light at home, we're pretty easy to please. But when time comes for some wooing- my woman performs hands down above and beyond the call of duty.
Last night she picked me up from work and took me to a new sushi place. Well, new to me. Not so new to the people in the know around here. Peter's. Rumor is that Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban frequent the place, but we didn't see them. I was a bit concerned because when we pulled up I saw first that the building is undergoing some reconstruction. One should never let that deter them from entering the doors, I've learned, and this was most definitely one of those times. Peter's is not as pretty inside as Shintomi, so I was starting to secretly question if my wife had lost her ...je ne sais quoi, for date night. I was wrong. The staff of Peters were so friendly and and the sushi was divine! I would go back there time and time again, even if the sushi was served on paper plates while I was seated at a plastic patio table. I would go to Peter's if my ex was in there with her new lover and they were making out in the middle of my table. I would go to Peter's if all of my ex's were there making out with each other at my table. I would go to Peter's if my parents were in there preaching their gospel to my wad of ex-orgy and the place was on fire. Get the picture? It really is that good.
After getting sufficiently filled up on the most yummy yummy sushi I've had since leaving California, we headed downtown. The rain that had plagued the majority of the day subsided and mother nature decided to allow us clear skies and mild temperatures for the evening. At the Ryman, we got to our seats, balcony seats, which were nice, good view, no poles in the way. That can be a real problem down on the floor there. I found that out when I was at the Indigo Girls show. I had seats that were pretty close up to the stage, like 10th row, but I had a friggin big ass pole occluding my view throughout the entire show. Of course at Indigo Girls, down there on the floor, there was no security patrolling as heavily as they were up on the balcony at Ani's show. Geez, I tried a couple of times to get my phone out to snap a picture or two, but the cell phone nazi's were on it every time! They were serious last night. Every few min another nazi appeared to confiscate someone's phone or camera. I couldn't risk it. Guess I'm getting dull in my old age.
Ani was beautiful! She's cut her hair again, and I just love short hair butchy Ani! LOVE her! I loved shaved head Ani and Macey thinks I'm weird for that, but I won't apologize for it. I HEART ANI. I loved dread lock Ani, braided Ani, even long ,pretty, somewhat curly haired Ani. She looked great. She sounded great. She played several new songs, which has my chomps watering for the new CD! She talked about being a mom and how her perspective has shifted a bit. Of course it would. I am so excited to hear what comes from her in this chapter of her life. She talked about shifting from interjecting the word "feminism" into every conversation to "patriarchy" and how she believes that each of us is responsible for bringing about the change that is needed to get us out of the mess that our society is in. These are the things that I love about Ani. She uses the stage to not only sing her songs and play her guitar, but to talk about the pertinent issues of the day that need to be addressed as well. Ani stood on the stage of the Ryman Auditorium, the granddaddy of The Good Ole Boy's Club, and preached feminism. She stood the stage that so many talented women fought tooth and nail to get access to and often were denied simply because of their gender and said patriarchy ain't working, let's turn this thing around! Macey asked me before the show why Ani, as a feminist, would want to play the Ryman. Why we would want to give Gaylord, gay-discriminatory Gaylord our money. For a few moments I started to fall into the trap. Macey likes to make me question and think. But then Ani took the stage. She spoke, she sang. And I understood why she would do it. It was a triumph for Ani to stand on the stage of the Ryman, to be on Gaylord's property talking about equality and feminism and democracy. It was a much bigger statement to say these things on the traditionally male-centric, female-oppressive stages of the Ryman than it would have been to say these things from a stage at the N.O.W. headquarters.
Macey enjoyed the show, all of her burning questions aside. She decided that there were more hippies in Nashville than she ever realized and that she no longer thought that the Ryman smelled of Ben Gay, but rather patchouli. I should explain that the last time we were there together was when I bought her tickets to see Bob Newheart. I swear we were the only people there under 50 that time.
We laughed that security earned their salary last night. At the Bob show, they pretty much sat back and enjoyed the button down comedy along with us. As I told Macey though, Ani does challenge us to " ...Dress down get out there , Pick a fight with the police..."
So, what do you expect?
Thank you, Ani for an excellent show! That was the best Valentine's Day Present I've ever had to wait for!! Thank you Macey for taking me, and for making me question and think more deeply about the reality of everything. I love that about you.
I love my wife!

Ani, here I come!

I am so freaking excited! In just over 24 hours I will be going to see Ani Difranco at the Ryman. I can't think of a better venue for her in Tennessee. Well, I'd love to see her at The Bluebird. Ani In - The - Round, with hmmmm... Janis Ian, and I don't know, Amy Ray. That would be sweeeeeet. Sitting in such an up close and personal setting, you don't even need amps there. Love the Bluebird Cafe. LOVE IT! I got to see Janis Ian there last year and I was in heaven. But seeing Ani at the Ryman, with those old wooden walls and wooden pews, they just play the acoustics so nicely. Ani's voice will bounce off the lumber and her notes will accompany the chords she strums in perfect harmony while she graces the stage that has hosted such greats as Patsy Cline, Eleanor Roosevelt, Ethel Barrymore, and Joni Mitchell...and I will be in ecstasy! I can feel the anticipation building, growing, developing like a fetus preparing for birth... Tomorrow, Ani, and tomorrow.

Bippity Boppity Bacon...And Weekly Word Challenge! YAY

Between school, the new job, and trying to maintain some sort of a social life, I have failed to keep up with the blog-o-sphere, both reading and writing. I promise to do better. I'm getting acclimated at work, learning all the details. School is going well. I get a lot of what I call busy work. I hate busy work. If it'll get me the letters beside my name that I want, so be it. I just feel that it's relatively pointless.
Before we get to the WWC, I wanted to catch up a bit and get some things out of my head and where they belong: hidden within the privacy of the world wide web.
About the WWC photos, I am ashamed to say they are mostly all from my cell phone this time, not from my camera. I totally forgot about the challenge and didn't take the camera when I was at the new Staples and Super Target, both good places for both paper and ceramic! Doh!
I am so excited about Super Target! You guys know I boycott WalMart, so Super WalMart is out. There's not a whole lot of other options in my little neighborhood. Now we have Super Target and all is right with the world! We went on the grand opening day and let me tell you, that place was packed! But unlike shopping at other places, every time I thought, I should ask someone where that is, or how much this is, or whatever... there was an employee right there to help. I've walked across an entire store before, looking for an employee, and never once found one until I went to the check out lines. So I was pleased to say the least.

Today, I was thinking about bacon.

It seems like every time my wife sends me a recipe with a notation about how "yummy" it sounds, bacon is involved. Bacon cheddar jalapeño wraps, bacon spinach cheese dip, bacon crusted stuffed chicken, bacon, bacon, bacon. Just mention the sizzling, greasy, heart attack in a 1 inch strip cut of Wilbur's ass and she turns into Forest's friend, Bubba when he's talking about shrimp. Why is it that? Could it be true what Jim Gaffigan said about bacon? That it's the fairy dust of food? My wife apparently thinks so. I think my aversion to so much bacon is much the same as my aversion to so much beef...pigs and cows were my pets when I was little. I bottle fed them, I washed them, I cleaned out their stalls. I named them, I loved them. And then, inevitably, one day they were on my dinner plate, no longer in the yard with their families. I think that if you are going to eat meat, you should never have to ever see it's face. I make it a rule. I love sushi, but I can't eat anything with a face. No lobster, no crab in the shell, nothing looking at me. The guilt gets to me. Even when I haven't seen it's face, guilt will overcome me sometimes. The last time we had steak, I dreamt about cows asking me if I thought that they tasted good enough to endorse their murder. Asking me to please endorse their murder and slaughter so that they could be enjoyed by hungry, hungry humans. What the hell is that all about? I love a good steak. Ugh...
I think maybe I need to cut back on the amount of meat that I do consume, drink less wine before bedtime, and relax just a bit!

Oh well, here's my feeble attempt at this week's WWC...
If you want to join in on the fun, stop by Tink's and find out how!







my desk Zen is ceramic





















and here's some
paper I use at
work






papers from my desk...


















paper clips get to snuggle up with paper




and another shot of my work, YAY

























lots of papers go in here










I like that we recycle all this paper :)














My wife took this photo, thanks Macey for the help this week!





















Another photo by Macey... lots o paper in her e




Thats my WWC for this week! Hope you enjoyed!

Who's to blame?

So this problem keeps coming up here every now and again, and it makes me sick to my stomach. I used to work with developmentally disabled people when I was a nurse so I suppose they hold a special place in my heart. Here's our issue: The Special Ed. buses don't have monitors assigned to watch over the passengers while the driver drives -leaving these kids to fend for themselves against each other. Problem is, some amongst them have predatory behavior. So time and again we hear about one kid or another who's been sexually molested in one way or another while riding home on the bus. The latest case is that of alleged perpetrator Kolby Harris.
This 19 year old kid allegedly coerced another developmentally disabled 9 year old, Gilbert, into performing oral sex acts while on the school bus. The bus driver was the only supervising authority and was busy driving. Many, including Kolby's mom, are blaming the Metro school system. They say Kolby is a victim here too. This due to the fact that "in January 2005, Kolby had been accused of exposing himself and attempting to compel another young boy named 'Jack' to engage in oral sex on a school bus."
After this tragic event, school officials determined that Kolby needed to have a bus monitor assigned to him. According to Kolby's mom, that lasted for only 6 weeks.
She feels that the school is to blame.
But who carries the brunt of the responsibility for this child who apparently can not be held accountable for his own actions?
The legal system holds parents accountable for a child's truancy, sending them to jail or to do community service when they can't or won't make their kid go to school.
What about Kolby's mom? Shouldn't she be accountable for the monitoring that was deemed necessary? If she could not provide him with a full time monitor in order to protect the other students from her child, shouldn't she keep him at home, safely away from those he may harm? And since she failed to do either, isn't she the one that would more to blame for the matter than the school since no one wants to place the blame directly on the source?

WWC - Stone & Glass

Here's my WWC- finally. If you haven't joined in on the fun, and you want to, stop by Tink's
to get in on the action.
This weeks words were glass and stone...
I have some new and some old photos to share that represent my interpretation of these words so here we go....

Stone:

first for the new ones...

moss covered stone




a stone with a view




sun-bathing stone


now for some old:

Squire's Castle is made of Stone...and supposedly haunted! Although we didn't find any ghosts. If you're ever in Cleveland, OH check it out!

ahhhh! my sparkely stone! (this photo not taken by me, I think it's my mother in law's work :) you'll forgive me, right?)


Glass:

sand becomes glass...ok, so it's a stretch...







my favorite glasses to use

just one of our dust collectors.

I don't really know what you'd call this, a piece of blown glass handed down from my great aunt... cool looking up close, don't yah think?

This is a glass lamp made my that great aunt's husband, my great uncle Paul, it's filled with crushed glass. Uncle Paul was a photographer for the local newspaper for 40+ years...he was a super cool man.

and for the old one for glass, I have this:


The Rock N Roll Hall of Fame - Baby!!! Yeah! it's mostly glass. ( this photo by my lovely wife, Macey. Take a bow hunny! )



Niagara Falls as seen through the glass window of the Skylon Tower. (again not my photo, may have been Macey, may have been her Mom, we'd just got hitched, too excited don't remember.)


That's it. That's my second installment of the weekly word challenge. I hope you enjoyed.

The words for next week are:
Paper
and
Ceramic

I'll be back same bat time, same bat channel. Hope to see you then!

WWC

I am behind today, I'll get my WWC photos up tonight. Sorry for the delay.

Did I do that?

Sometimes I feel just like the Sunny-dog: surrounded by the mess I've created, looking up guiltily saying

" What? Who? Me? Why?"

This morning was one of those times. My sweetie was less than amicable, not so sweet, lets just say it was not a birds-are-singing-and-all-is-right-with-the-world kind of morning.

It began last night when my hunny-bear was in the sweet-n-luvin' mood. I yawned and went to bed. Later, when she joined me, I vaguely recall something about my fussing that it was hot and pushing her cuddling advances away from me. I can't help it, I was asleep, mostly. I can't be held responsible for what I do once I've started to snore. Once eyelids begin to flutter and I settle in, all bets are off.

No wonder she growled and snarled at me this morning.

Hmmmmm... Looks like I need to do some makin' up tonight. That's the best part anyways!

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Morning...

My Saturday morning routine is precision. It happens exactly the same each and every Saturday up to a certain point at which I get to decide which route to take. Even then it's A or B and only A or B. I like it that way. Keeps me out of trouble. Back when I worked Saturdays it was the Sunday morning routine but I called Sundays "my Saturday" since I was also off on Mondays and they were "my Sunday". It really is so nice to be on a Monday - Friday 8-5 schedule, I must say. But lets get back to my routine: Wake up, pee, give the dog her Benadryl, unload the dishwasher, clean the kitchen counter and stove top while my coffee is brewing, make a cup of coffee with yummy creamer and 1 Splenda (or 2 if it's the big ass coffee cup), and I sit at the computer and read blogs , catch up on homework, shop or chat with Tony, my chat buddy from Kansas of I dunno, like 6 years now. When I am appropriately caffeinated I have the two previously mentioned options:
A. I can head back into the kitchen to clean the microwave, mop the floors , and start some laundry or
B. I can go to my little corner by the window in the dining room and paint, or at least try to.

Later, once my other half has risen from hibernation I can begin to vacuum the house and clean up the bedroom and so goes my Saturday morning routine.
Until this morning...
All was on track for the average Saturday morning, right up to the point of making my coffee. MMM... I just love coffee. I'm really not awake until I've had at least two cups of coffee. My doctor told me a few years ago to cut back on my coffee so I tried blending decaf with my regular, YUUUUUCK! What's the point? I gave up every other drug and addictive substance. I even gave up nicotine, and that was like quitting heroine! I swear, I went to inpatient rehab twice and outpatient once and I had withdrawals and the whole bit and smoking was every bit as tough to stop as the harsh street shit, no kidding! But caffeine, that one I'm keeping, you can't take my caffeine away! Never, NEVER!
Ahem! OK... back to the story of this morning... I suppose it's due to not having any caffeine in my blood yet, therefore I was not awake enough to realize the peril that I faced, but as I sleepily yawned and shook the jumbo container of creamer ...SPLASH! Coffee creamer splatters all over my clean counter tops and stove! Not to mention me! Oops, guess I didn't close the lid on it yesterday. Sigh.