Nasvhille Skyline, finished...I think

I'm finally finished with my Nashville Skyline...for refreshers, and just to see the way it evolved, I'll post the photos leading up to the final product

Here's how it started out the other day...



Then mid morning on Thursday, it was looking like this



But I just wasn't quite happy with that...so I kept altering and working on it until I had this

As I was in the driveway spraying it with tripple thick gloss, my neighbor and her son came up and asked me if I could give some art lessons to him after school some days.
Well, of course I can! Except, I've never really had any art lessons myself unless you count high school art which leaves a lot to be desired in Tennessee.... so um...hmmmm...Oh well, I'll figure it out.

Nashville is evolving

There seems to be a theme...shortly following a seizure I want to paint.

This time I started on a Nashville skyline, as seen from the riverfront. I love that view of my hometown, and I especially love the way the lights of the So-Bro District reflect off of the water...

It's still a work in progress, for sure. This one has been nothing if not tedious, but it is a labor of love.

Here's how it started out yesterday



I woke up this morning wanting nothing more than to work on this and pull it together...I'm still not quite happy with it, but I like the direction it's taking. What do you think? What would you suggest?

I Thought Weebles Only Wobbled

But apparently they fall down too.
At least, that is, if I fit the definition of a Weeble, and according to Wifester's description of my seizure and subsequent fall in the parking lot of Target yesterday, I am quite the Weeble who wobbled and then fell down. And boy did I fall. Like most times when that happens, I don't have a lot of memory of the event preceding or just following. I only hold small, spotty memory of bits and pieces. Kind of like taking a jigsaw puzzle and throwing all the pieces in the air and scooping up a hand full of whatever happened to land near you. You can see these few glimpses of the full picture clearly, but are not quite sure exactly how they all fit together.
I remember walking along and then I remember my legs not working anymore and the pavement getting closer and closer to my face.
I remember a kind man's voice, but not his face. And I remember Wifester, in my face, asking questions. The usual ones. Followed by "Can you talk to me?"
A wheelchair magically appeared, and I was assisted into it, and here's where things got really weird for me. I have no clue who was pushing the chair or what was going on around me. All I know is that my ass was really, really, really HOT.
And I don't mean hot like Beyonce's ass is hot, I mean hot like something is on fire, hot. Wifester says I was screaming "My butt's on fire!!" while trying to vacate the chair, except my legs were still not really working so I was clumsily unsuccessful. I would be remiss, did I not stop at this point to inform you, it appears that my ass simply is a bit too wide for the wheelchair. Go ahead, laugh it up. My hips, it seems, were causing the metal sides of the chair to rub against the wheels, unbeknownst to any of us at the moment.
Wifester decided, since I appeared to be having some kind of psychotic episode, what with the screaming about asses aflame and trying to climb out of the moving wheelchair, to hurry up and get me to the car. She began pushing the chair faster, which in turn made my ass burn all the more.
I was neither conscious enough, nor lucid enough to have the wherewithall to explain to her what was happening in a manner that she could understand. It seems that all that I could articulate at that postictal state was "It burns! It burns!"

Wifester says she even asked if I'd been stung by something.
Well, we made it to our car and once I was seated in it, I realized my knees were both throbbing, my left ankle and my right wrist were throbbing. My right shoulder...I hurt from head to toe. Speaking of toes, a few of them, I noticed, were scraped up. Damned flip flops are no help when you go down on pavement like that.

Today I have 6 bandages. At least it's basically symmetrical. On each side I now have a bandage on each hip, for the blisters from the burns from the wheelchair, (yes, I have second degree ass burns from the chair!) a bandage on each knee, and a bandage on a toe on each foot.
And I'd just done that pedicure!
Gah...sometimes living with me must be a real joy for the Wifester.
There are going to be zombies in town today and the Wifester and I were going to go to take photos...
I just don't think I can do it. I'm pretty gimped up. My arms, shoulders, back...everything hurts. not to mention my knees that look pretty much like hamburger meat.
Hopefully Wifester will still go. I really want to see those zombies!

When My Fortune Cookies Were Empty, Continued.

So, I've told you about when I went to rehab, and how I landed at a half way house. Are you ready to hear more?

Well, hold onto your horses. Here comes the ride of a lifetime.

I woke up one day, safe and sound in Rehab, and was advised that I was being discharged that day because my insurance company didn't want to pay any further. They suggested I stay, but I would have to pay out of pocket, as this was a private facility, not a state run type at the county hospital. Back then, the cost of rehab was over 12,00.00 a day and I was a junkie. I couldn't come up with that kind of money. Not for the amount of time they wanted me to stay there. So the decision was made that I would be dismissed into a halfway house, still taking detox medications. One of the rules at the house was to go to a 12 step meeting every day. No matter what. So the day my friend from rehab and I arrived at the house, we were ushered directly to an AA meeting. It was an upstairs meeting and I was still doped up on the detox medication (Phenobarbital) to try to keep me from having withdrawal seizures as well as my other meds for normal control of everything from anxiety to depression and seizures. I went to that house loaded. Leaving that AA meeting that night I was an hour late for my evening dose and already getting pretty loopy and shaky. I missed a step and WHAM! Down I went. It was just the last two or three steps that I tumbled down…and oddly enough, I really didn't feel a thing. I scraped my knees and elbows up but all in all, I was simply disoriented. I was a 23 year old, drug addict, loser.

The first few days at the house it was just my rehab buddy, me and another girl who had been living in the house for several months already. Those days were great. Then more girls started moving in. And more. And more. Soon I found myself living with five other recovering addicts/alcoholic women of varying ages and varying backgrounds. We had the future soccer mom, the artsy photographer, the country girl trying to come out of the closet, me the GAY AND PROUD DYKE and REBEL ( I know, funny how we change as we age, huh?) We had the Yuppie and the ex prostitute. Think Facts of Life, on crack.

Needless to say, many a personality conflict occurred in that house. Needless to say, there were many a tear shed in that house. Needless to say, there were very close bonds formed in that house too.

I was a twisted, messed up kid when I left that house. I was mean, resentful, and scornful to the owner/manager. I blamed her for my mistakes. I would see her five years later when I entered rehab for my second time, she worked at the facility, and I would avoid conversation with her, opting to glare and condemn her with my piercing stares instead. It took a long time for me to realize that she helped me more than almost anyone in my path at that time.

We had good times and rough times in that halfway house. I both loved it and hated it and I still do. But I can look back at my time there, and both honestly and gratefully say that it helped form who I am today, and that is nothing to be regretful about by any means.

When you are in a period like that in your life, everything is new. Emotions are raw and buried forgotten stuff is festering up to the surface. It's really not the best time to try to engage in meaningful relationships. Not romantic ones, for sure. So like the good student I was, I fell in love right away.

I couldn't help it. I'd met the most wonderful woman. She was independent, exotic, in recovery, and best of all, she was a chef. She was unlike anything I had ever seen or known at that time.

It was complicated, as those situations always are. So when I inevitably relapsed and subsequently got myself evicted from the halfway house, I first moved in with the soccer mom, who had also recently left the halfway house, but I found her there in a less than sober scene, and since I truly was trying to get myself right, I didn't stay long at all.

I moved out of there and into my girlfriend's apartment. We had only been dating a couple of months, and I was moving in because we simply couldn't think of another option (yeah, right!). I did promise to look for my own apartment, though, and I held true to my promise. I really wanted to live in my own space. I'd decided not to go back to where I had been before entering rehab…they (they being those in the recovery world) say you can never go back to old playgrounds, and I surely did not need to.

I stayed with that girlfriend, the chef, for a few months while I saved up some money and eventually found an apartment just down the street from her. It was walking distance, even. Not that you'd want to walk it in that neighborhood, but theoretically, it was possible.

It didn't take long for me to find myself moving further and further away from the desire to keep on the positive path I had started and leaning more and more toward my old ways.

Funny how that happens, like a tiny little weed, growing in your garden. You notice it creeping up and you think "One of these days, I'm gonna need to do something about that." Then all of a sudden, it's the very next day and that scrawny weed has taken root and engulfed the flower bed.

That's how addiction takes over, and over, and over…

I think the key is catching it early, just like that weed. Don't say "I'll deal with it tomorrow." Tomorrow's too late. Grab it by the root as soon as you see that sucker poke its nasty little head out of the ground.

But that's just my thought…

Anyways, back to the chef. She was the first love of my life. Not in that whole and completely passionate way, but in that newly found "what's this all about?" kind of way. She was quite a bit older than I was and that was a huge hindrance in our ability to effectively communicate with each other. That relationship ended and I moved on to the next, and the next which landed me in the spot of moving to California and I've already told you that story.

Later, when I'm up to it, and if you want it, I'll give you the story of going to rehab for my last time.

My boobs have magical powers!

Yesterday I gave them a firm talking to. Honestly, they needed it. We made up, neither of us hold on to things for too terribly long. In the course of my rant against my boobs yesterday, I explained to them that since I have no income right now, they needed to get control of themselves. You know what they did? They got me a job!
Not only did they get me a job, but they got me one in which I can telecommute for, which translates to working in my pj's bra-free!
My boobs really do have magical powers.
I don't know why I didn't send them hate mail before. My job is really only part time, but that's perfect, since my Sunny Dog Snacks has just picked up sponsorship from a local veterinary clinic/doggie day care, who will be carrying them and selling them. That's AWESOME news too! Since that came about, I hooked the treats up with some too cute packaging and took some new photos for the web site... check it out





So I still have time to concentrate on school in between baking dog treats and typing up dictations for this physician. Oh, that's my new part time job. I'm putting my old nursing skills to work by exercising my knowledge of medical terminology and translating dictation into printable files. Dull, but it pays and it allows me to work from home while finishing school. Now if I can just get this insurance issue worked out...

A letter to my breasts

Now, I'm not usually one to complain. OK...so maybe I am. Let me live in my little delusion, it's my blog. Ahem. Anywhoodle, as I was saying. I'm not one to complain, *giggles* but I have a serious concern and I need to get it off my chest, pardon the pun. I've found that letting these things fester will only harbor resentment, and I don't like to be the harborer of resentments. It just feels yucky. I know some of you won't have the vaguest clue as to what I'm talking about, while some of you will be saying "Amen, Sister!" I'm sorry if I isolate or neglect a certain portion of my readers today, but eh, it's not like I haven't done it before, like oh, say, with politics...
Today's rant is not so civically oriented, nor is it even environmentally centered as my past rants have been.
Today, I'm talking directly to my breasts. I've decided to write a letter to them, because I was once told that a letter, even if it's left unsent, will help to resolve so much, so here goes.

Dear Twins, (yes, that's what I call them, shut up!)
I write to you today to set some boundaries. It's not that I don't love you, believe me, I do. But it seems that the two of you have gotten too big for your britches, so to speak. I know you like to be free and unconstrained, who doesn't? I myself look forward to stripping my clothes off and getting into comfy pj's every night. But this business of busting out of my bras has gotten out of control. Those things are expensive when purchasing for Twins of your size. As I type, I'm wearing two bras, one to compensate for the holes in the other. It's not comfortable, to say the least. I know you don't like it. I feel you itching and sweating under all that cotton and lace. It's your own fault! You brought this upon yourselves. All I'm saying here is cut me some slack. I have no income to speak of right now, I just need you to be nice to the bras we have. Work with me, and I'll work with you. Is it the cotton blend you object to? Fine. Next purchase will be 100%, organic even, I promise. But please, for the love of all that's mammory and pillowy, stop busting out of my bras!

Warmest regards,

Happy Earth Day!

The History of Earth Day, as defined by the internet gospel that is Wikipedia

Five months before the first April 22 Earth Day, on Sunday, November 30, 1969, The New York Times carried a lengthy article by Gladwin Hill reporting on the rising hysteria of "global cooling":

"Rising concern about the environmental crisis is sweeping the nation's campuses with an intensity that may be on its way to eclipsing student discontent over the war in Vietnam...a national day of observance of environmental problems...is being planned for next spring...when a nationwide environmental 'teach-in'...coordinated from the office of Senator Gaylord Nelson is planned...." Senator Nelson also hired Denis Hayes as the coordinator.

April 22, 1970, Earth Day marks the beginning of the modern environmental movement. Approximately 20 million Americans participated, with a goal of a healthy, sustainable environment.

Denis Hayes, the national coordinator, and his old staff organized massive coast-to-coast rallies. Thousands of colleges and universities organized protests against the deterioration of the environment. Groups that had been fighting against oil spills, polluting factories and power plants, raw sewage, toxic dumps, pesticides, freeways, the loss of wilderness, and the extinction of wildlife suddenly realized they shared common values.

Mobilizing 200 million people in 141 countries and lifting the status of environmental issues onto the world stage, Earth Day on April 22 in 1990 gave a huge boost to recycling efforts worldwide and helped pave the way for the 1992 United Nations
Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro.

As the millennium approached, Hayes agreed to spearhead another campaign, this time focused on global warming and a push for clean energy. The April 22 Earth Day in 2000 combined the big-picture feistiness of the first Earth Day with the international grassroots activism of Earth Day 1990. For 2000, Earth Day had the Internet to help link activists around the world. By the time April 22 came around, 5,000 environmental groups around the world were on board, reaching out to hundreds of millions of people in a record 184 countries. Events varied: A talking drum chain traveled from village to village in Gabon, Africa, for example, while hundreds of thousands of people gathered on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., USA.

Earth Day 2000 sent the message loud and clear that citizens the world 'round wanted quick and decisive action on clean energy. Earth Day 2007 was one of the largest Earth Days to date, with an estimated billion people participating in the activities in thousands of places like Kiev, Ukraine; Caracas, Venezuela; Tuvalu; Manila, Philippines; Togo; Madrid, Spain; London; and New York.

Founded by the organizers of the first April 22 Earth Day in 1970, Earth Day Network promotes environmental citizenship and year round progressive action worldwide. Earth Day Network is a driving force steering environmental awareness around the world. Through Earth Day Network, activists connect change in local, national, and global policies. Earth Day Network's international network reaches over 17,000 organizations in 174 countries, while the domestic program engages 5,000 groups and over 25,000 educators coordinating millions of community development and environmental protection activities throughout the year. Earth Day is the only event celebrated simultaneously around the globe by people of all backgrounds, faiths and nationalities. More than a half billion people participate in Earth Day Network campaigns every year.

At the heart of Earth Day resides the notion that knowledge is power; The more educated citizens are of national environmental policies, the more likely they will become active in shaping those policies. Earth Day, like most grassroots, civic organizations, has always sought to inform and educate, but knowledge without action is futile. Earth Day celebrations provide every individual ample opportunity to get involved, from local beach cleanups and rallies for clean energy, to petitioning representatives to pass environmental legislation, April 22 is the focal point for environmental causes we might otherwise take for granted.

Wifester and I had lots of fun at our local Earth Day celebration. What did/will you do?

Home and Door

Yeppers! It's time again for the Weekly Words Challenge, and this week's words are Home and Door. I believe our favorite Cynical Bastard, Jay is hosting again this week, since Tink has been on hiatus. Of course, I may just be talking out of my ass, since I still seem to have a migraine leftover from yesterday...

Without further ado...

HOME

Sunny Dog, Wifester and Fortune Cookies at our HOME

Nashville will always be my HOMEtown

Stephen Hawking opened many doors for my mind and thoughts

Lots of DOORS to choose from in Printer's Alley

we went downtown to The Arcade, but no one was HOME

Some DOORs can only be entered by adults

When my irises are blooming, it makes my house look more like HOME

Old school way to phone HOME



That does it for my WWC this week...if you are interested in playing along, go see Tink, at Pickled Beef. And don't forget, there's also a Flickr group for the WWC too.

NOM - Gathering Storm - What Storm?

Dear Wifester,

Two years ago today, I emerged from my hotel room all dressed in white to find you all dressed in black, as polished and charming as the first day I ever laid eyes on your beautiful smiling face. Hand in hand, we headed to the chapel and said our "I do's" with trembling knees and trembling voices.
We laughed because you were so nervous you said "With this wing, I thee wed..."
I no longer laugh at that, because I know that on that day, you did give me wings. You gave me wings that allowed me to soar above the adversity, the fear, and the insecurity that have always kept me grounded.

With that wing, you gave me a new life.
I am a better person today for having known you, for having loved you, and for having married you. We are better people together than either of us could have imagined we could have ever been.
Two years ago today, you and I stood hand in hand and announced before the chaplain, the witness, and your parents that we would love and honor each other for all the days of our lives.
It seemed a little bit scary at the time. A little bit overwhelming, to be honest. But I knew in my heart of hearts that if there were ever anyone in this world that I would want to spend the rest of my life with, it would be you.
I never really believed too much in marriage before you came along. With it originating as a barter system, with women as the collateral, I never wanted to be an object to buy, sell, or trade.
Our marriage is so far from that, so far from what I ever thought marriage was.
I love that you are my best friend, my confidant, and my muse.
I love that I can tell you anything, absolutely anything and you'll never waver in your love for me and vice-versa.

Today, my love, I want you to know how very much I love you with all my heart and soul.
How grateful I am to have you in my life and how very, very much I adore you.
When I hear people dismiss marriage, or make snide remarks about their spouses, I think about what you and I share and I think how sad I am for them that they don't know the same unconditional, unwavering, and omnipotent love that you and I have.
I loved you long before I admited it to you, I loved you long before we said "I do" and I'll love you long beyond any modern measurement of time can allow.
With each passing day, each passing year, I grow to know you, respect you, understand you, and therefore love you more and more and ever more.
And that is why I say,
Today, more than yesterday, yet only half as much as tomorrow, I love you!


XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Where and how will you celebrate Earth Day?

I'll be here learning all about organic gardening and clean air and water methods and energy efficiency.
I'm sure to have a good time and learn so much more about how to lower my carbon footprint.
There's Earth Day events all over the world today, look up one in your neck of the woods and check it out.

Take a Walk With Me

I know I’ve told you that I’ve been there, but did I ever tell you how I landed in rehab?
It’s a funny story. Really. Well, OK, maybe not funny , ha-ha, more like funny, hmmmmm. Wanna hear about it? Yeah, I thought you would. We always like to hear about other people’s screw ups, don’t we? It helps us to feel better about ourselves. I don’t mind sharing my screw ups with the interwebs…maybe, just maybe it will help someone else. If not, eh, at least someone might get a laugh out of it.
The first time I found myself in rehab is a bit of a blurr. Go figure. I had been trying to get myself off of Xanax, hydrocodone and cocaine for quite some time. My best efforts were futile, as they usually are in those situations. Somehow or another, I ended up with a liter of vodka tucked into my purse, sitting on the sofa at my therapist’s office, taking swigs and popping pills…
I guess at some point, you just stop trying to hide what you’re doing. That was the point I had reached. At this stage in my life, I had been taking the benzodiazepines (xanax) for over ten years, every single day for about 7. The hydrocodone (Lortab) was coming in second at around 5 years, and I had been snorting cocaine on and off for only about three. Usually, when I tell people I went to rehab for xanax, lortab and cocaine, they immediately think that cocaine was the worst to get off of. Let me be the first to tell you it was by and far, the easiest. Maybe that was because I had been on it the least amount of time. Maybe it was because cocaine is not physically addictive like the others. All I know is that my body reacted to the lack of benzodiazepines in a way that I could not have ever in a million years anticipated. Combine that with the physical withdrawal from the Lortab, and I was one miserable Cookie for quite a while.
At that time, I was in my early twenties, my seizures had just begun to be diagnosed by my physician, but I simply attributed it to my “partying.” Now, keep in mind, I was having seizures that I assumed were from “partying” too much, but I did nothing at all to slow down my intake of the substances that I fully believed were the cause of those very seizures. Instead, I decided to increase the amount of xanax I was using, because I knew that it was an anticonvulsant. Just call me Dr. Fortune Cookies!
Little did I know that by doing so, I was prolonging my detox time, prolonging my withdrawal, and increasing my dependence on the higher dose to maintain seizure free living.
I remember very little of the actual day I arrived at rehab. I remember that my therapist called someone to come get me. I remember waking up, or rather coming to, and realizing that I was in a moving vehicle and reaching for the steering wheel in a panic…I thought I was driving. When my hands hit the dash board, I looked around, saw I was in the passenger seat, saw who was driving, and nodded off again.
I remember walking up the sidewalk and laughing because it seemed to be so winding and curvy…I’d had some enlightened thought about the road to the straight and narrow not being so straight…
I remember throwing up in a trashcan in someone’s office. I wish I knew who’s so I could apologize to them, although I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one to have done that in there. And I’m pretty sure my vomit is the least of their worries as far as the unintentional release of bodily fluids goes. I remember having a photo taken very shortly after that for my in house ID, which I still have somewhere… (and NO, I will not be sharing that one with you) and I remember climbing into a bed.
The next thing that memory grants me is the recollection of the pain in my muscles, the pain in my gut, a desperate need for air and the nagging, ominous feeling that I was never, ever going to make it out of this place alive. Impending, certain death was accompanied by the familiar coolness of the porcelain of my rehab bathroom toilet against my face. I remember the shrill voice of the obnoxious nurse who told me to get up off the floor and get back to bed. And how she seemed to glare at me when she said something about the mess I’d made…She may have been as sweet as pie, but at that moment, with how I felt, and what was going on, she was Satan, reincarnate.
A few days later, when I was out of my bed and ready to socialize, I made my way to group room.
Right away I befriended the only other lesbian in there and we became tight, from day one. She was a few days ahead of me into her detox and we had a lot in common from childhood experiences to drugs of choice.
We even went to the same half way house. Did I ever tell you that I lived in a halfway house? I did. It was called YANA, which stood for You Are Never Alone. Believe me, at YANA, you were NEVER alone. NEVER. I got the boot from YANA, but my time there helped pave the way. I have to give props where props are due.
One of these days, I’ll have to tell you about living at that halfway house with six other female, recovering addicts. And about going back to rehab for second and third times. Ah but those are stories for another day.

In which I pimp my pup and WWC P and Favorite Movie

Remember when I said I was going organic with the SunnyDog's food? Well, I did it. and I thought I'd give you an update on her status since then.
For starters, her allergies are so much better, sure, I still have to give her the occasional benadryl, but its nothing like it used to be where she had to take it every single day. Her once red and inflamed skin is back to a healthy pink again. And even better yet, she acts almost like a puppy again. I have thought, for the last three years, that Sunny's best days had passed her. I know, that sounds so negative, but it's the truth. I don't think that anymore. I really see her energized and full of life again. No, she's not miraculaously a puppy again, I mean, she is still an 8 year old lab, but she sure acts like a young pup much more often these days. She actually goes to the kitchen and barks at the refridgerator when it's breakfast and dinner time. She's figured it out now and heaven forbid I fill her bowl 5 minutes late...I most certainly will hear about it. She never did that with any commercial food we ever tried her on. Not even the ones that made gravy.
And her treats? Forgettaboutit! Sunny goes wild for a Sunny Dog Snack! There is only one treat I've ever found her to react like this to; Puppy-Crack. No, not really crack, it's that chicken jerkey stuff. She goes ape-shit over them. But put one of my whole wheat, rolled oats, bacon, spinach, herb treats and let there be no question over which one Sunny goes for first. That's why I call them Sunny-Dog Snacks. Like Scooby's snacks that could get him to do anything, SunnyDog's snacks illicit tricks I've long since forgotten she knows long before I even turn around from retrieving one from the jar.
Wifester's aunt placed an order of them for her pooch, and our friend Cole, who has two dogs brings them over for snacks. They all love em.

I'm glad to be able to make food that makes such a difference in the SunnyDog's quality of life, but I really love that she loves it so much too. That's the selfish part of the reward. I got inspired and made a site for the Sunny Dog. I played around with my new Photoshop suite and put some of my classes to use and made a logo for her treats too. I only had to request help once, from our friend, LSP. (Thanks LSP for helping me get those letters worked out!) She's a really cool graphic designer. She makes SnowBird. (We still need to get together to play with clay and bake some oatmeal, craisin, white chocolate cookies! )



See him? Aint he cute? That's LSP's work!
Amazing, huh? I sure can't do it.







Anyhoodle, here's my logo

Isn't that cute? Not too bad, if I do say so myself. So if you want some SunnyDog snacks for your own pooch, you can order some from me and I'll bake em up, fresh to order. Check it out. And, if you mention this blog post with your order, I'll throw in an extra treat just for you!



Oh, and I almost forgot! It's WWC time again!

This week's challenge, brought to us by the traveling Tink, of Pickled Beef, is to present our photo interpretations of "P" and "Favorite Movie", that Tink, she's a real slick one. She likes to make us work for these, you see.
I didn't come up with a whole lot of photos, so I decided presentation would be more important, so I made you a nice little album to look at. Cut me some slack, will yah? I've been busy cooking Sunny treats! Anyways, enjoy the show. And if you want to join the fun, go visit Tink for all the info.

Too Close for Comfort

We made it through the tornadoes safely. They remained a bit east of us, but not by much.
Here's someone's flickr page with some pretty remarkable photos of the aftermath.

WWC - Opening and Spring

I'm baaaaaaaaack!
It was a wonderful visit with the Wifester's family and lots and lots of fun was had. We toured around town and played monopoly (did you know you don't get monopoly cash anymore? for reals, it's credit cards!) and played at parks all weekend. That means I had plenty of opportunity to catch some photos for the WWC this week!

The ever delightful and awe inspiring Etsy guru, Tink challenged us with the words Opening and Spring.
Here's my interpretations:

it takes a special OPENING to create these bubbles.



someone decided to block the OPENING to the last hole.



SPRING is time for hot pink toes!

and nothing says SPRING is in the air like the arrival of Mule Day!


and remember, if youre a joiner and want to play along, visit Tink for the 411...

Mellow Yellow Monday

I decided to hop back in the saddle, so to speak with this week's Mellow Yellow Monday since I had a fun filled weekend of touring around with the in-laws and visiting Mule Day. Yup, you heard me right, Mule Day. Its an annual festival they have in a town here to celebrate the mule. It's a bit over the top what with all the mule art, mule hats, mule ear headbands, and mule inspired clothing, jewelry, and housewares. But it was fun nonetheless. The craziest thing I saw though, was an extremely large number of these guys walking around picking up the trash. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the idea, but I just think with that many people in attendance, all the children and retail goods, it may be a wiser idea to postpone sending these guys out to pick up trash until AFTER the festivities...

More photos from the excitement of Mule Day will be posted soon!

Fortune Cookies vs. Wifester - Round 1

*Disclosure: To Wifester's family who on occasion visit this blog, especially my wonderful Mom-in-Law, there may be somewhat sensitive information in this post pertaining to Wifester and Fortune Cookies early days of dating...continue reading at your discresion*

"You are SUCH a liar!" Wifester said as she erupted in laughter.
"What the hell are you talking about now?" I retorted, somewhat amused and slightly defensive. After she gained control of her sudden outburst of chuckles and ha-ha's, she went on to say that in my post the other day, the one about our anniversary coming up, she felt like I had misled my readers, you, my peeps.
What, what what???!!!
Explains Wifester, "You said we didn't second-date U-haul!" For those who aren't familiar with the term or it's origins, lesbians are infamous for moving in together after 2 or three dates. Don't ask me why, just accept that that's what many lesbians do. We however, most certainly did not.
We didn't. I moved out of my apartment and into Wifester's house after what I thought had been a full year after we started dating...she reminded me that I kept insisting it be a full year, but we actually only made it to the 6 month mark, at which time I caved in and said I'd move in with her. Ok, so I was in fact wrong on that detail. I conceed, we didn't wait a full year to move in. I'm sorry to have mislead you on that. It truly was not intentional. That, however, isn't even the point Wifester was gunning for. She went on to propose the notion that after our second date, we spent every day together. There was one night that I made her go home saying "We can't spend EVERY night together..." But in her opinion, for all intents and purposes, we were already living together.
I say no way, Jose! She still had her house, which she paid all her bills at, and I had my apartment which I did the same for. All my stuff was at my place, all her stuff at hers. Sure, there was the extra toothbrush at the other's house, I mean, come on, you need that. And we each had our overnight bags ready at all times. We simply enjoyed each other's company from the start. That doesn't mean we second date U-hauled. If I wanted her to leave, I could say "Go home" and she had a home to go to, and vice versa. That option was still there. I say we U-hauled when we actually rented the U-haul, terminated my lease, packed my shit, moved it into her place, and began sharing bills. That's living together, and that did not happen until 6 months down the road.

We're at a stalemate. She feels we Second Date U-hauled, I feel we didn't.
So, I'm putting the question out there to you. What do you think? Leave your comments and please, vote ...it's up there in the top right corner...vote early and vote often!

Meet Joaquin...

Have you guys met Joaquin?

No? Seriously then, you should really go check out the super cool thing his mom and dad did for him over at Joaquin the Bean and when you are done there, check out his uber cool web site with the same name, Joaquin the Bean.
He seems like a super cool kid and his parents are awesome for coming up with such great idea. See Joaquin has epilepsy, and well, I don't want to give away too many details, so I'm gonna make you go visit him to see why I'm so psyched about him.

So whatcha doing here? Go! Scat! Visit Joaquin the Bean and don't forget to sign his guest book and let him know you stopped by.

Is it too late to celebrate?

I'm SO lame. How lame, you say? Well, I just noticed that I won a Golden Spork Award from the photogenic and photo-talented Tink, over at Pickled Beef. The date on the post announcing the winners was January 19th...
Today is what??
Oh, that's right, it's April Fool's Day! Well, this is no April Fool's joke. Tink is awesome and to have received the coveted Golden Spork from her is a great honor!

Speaking of April Fool's...I hope everyone I know and love out here in cyberspace has been safe and protected from the damned April Fool's Worm.
Remember, you can go to the Microsoft Security Center and download and run the Malicious Software Removal Tool for free.

Wanna know what kind of fun I've had so far this week? I've been on my knees! No, get your minds out of the gutter! I was painting the baseboards throughout the house. And the door frames and the doors too. I started out just touching up a spot here and a spot there that had been scuffed and soon realized that was leaving little bright pretty patches and long strips of dulled out, yellowed funkiness. So I just went ahead and slapped some paint on all of it.
I am amazed that the little bit of paint on just those tiny pieces of wood granted such a nice facelift to our little home.
In my last post, Fiwa commented that she wished she got paid for being a homemaker.
Judging by the work I've done around here in the past three weeks, I'd say my employer would be asking Uncle Sam for some bailout money just to pay me some major overtime if homemakers did get paid!
Truly, though, I enjoy it. Who would have ever thought I'd like this? My mother could never get me to clean my room. Funny how we change.
Speaking of my mother...
Let me preface this by telling you this month is Wifester and mine's second anniversary. Not our day we met anniversary, but the really important one...the Wedding Anniversary! We got married on April 19, 2007, in Niagra Falls, Canada.

My parents declined to attend. Macey's mom and stepdad both came and celebrated with us.

Wifester and I lived together for a year before we married and dated for a while before we moved in together. I know, shocking...lesbians who didn't rent a Uhaul on the second date.

Anywho. In all this time, Wifester's mom and stepdad have been in town numerous times and each time I've tried to include my parents in some activity with us, be it an invitation just to come by, or to go meet somewhere neutral for dinner. They always have some church event planned and can't make it.
Wifester's mom is coming in at the end of this week. Actually it's her mom and aunt and two cousins. (Good thing I've been working on the house)

So yesterday I called mi madre to see if her and Dad wanted to visit and meet Wifester's wonderful mom and guess what?
They are going to Oklahoma City. Yep , going to meet a minister and learn his way of recruiting people. Apparently their church wants to incorporate this guy's method of driving a van around and picking up people off of the streets to drag them into their church, putting on plays (I'm having visions of those awful Hell House productions


And who knows what else, like possibly...