Lazy Days Into Winter

You know when you get a song stuck in your head and can't stop humming it or singing to yourself? Even as you grow tired of repeating the same lines, you can't stop yourself; if you're awake, there it is, stalking the corners of your mind.

I've been having the same sensation for the past few weeks, but with a single quote that I've heard in two different places over the course of about a month.

"How you spend your days is how you spend your life."

Every time I sit on my ass and do nothing (even when nothing-doing is well-deserved, like after cleaning the living room windows and scrubbing the bathroom) it rings in my head like a school bell. It's become an automatic response, and I know why.

I have a history of wild and improbable ideas. Things I really, truly desire to try or just plain get done. But, I also have a magnificent history of letting the enormity of those ideas push me into ambition-less funks where nothing gets done because all I can think of is the impossible-seeming glory that'll result from the end product.

If you didn't already know, I'm screwy.

So I know this quote from, I believe, Annie Dillard is my mind's way of pushing me forward. And yet, as the words reverberate in my own mental voice, all I can seem to do is what needs to be done: empty the dishwasher, clean the windows, do the laundry, feed the cats, take a bath, pay bills, run books back to the library...

I don't want to leave this Earth only having done what I needed to. I want to finish my screenplay and build on my other ideas, write my books and get them published, sell my photographs, spiff up this blog even more, go to networking events and not vomit from fear beforehand, travel wildly and make money doing something I enjoy. You know, among other things.

I suppose I've made some small steps recently. Last week I signed up for a digital storytelling class that may lead to work (Paid? God, I hope paid.) with our local PBS station. Last night HUBS and I went mini-golfing in the dark. That may not sound like a big step, but I'd never been mini-golfing before and it was on my list of things to try. We had fun and I foresee us doing it again soon.

I want to know, how do you spend your days and how do you want to spend your days going forward?

Why Is It...

Drawing courtesy here

That every time I'm with HUBS at his job and we're alone there into the night, I fear a zombie invasion?

I'm so odd.
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So, what are you guys doing this weekend? Anything fun? Can I come?

Show Your Knees!

These are totally as good as Naomi Campbell's knees...I'm just sayin'.

I had an epiphany recently. Last month, I bought and started wearing a pair of shorts. And these were not just any pair of shorts, oh no. These shorts show my knees. I know, I know, that sounds ridiculous, so let me give you some back story.

I have not worn shorts since sometime around 1995 when I was still in college. At the time, the only shorts I wore were guys shorts. They weren't tight or showy and they hid my knees. Oh, my knees. They've been a sore spot of mine since I was a wee child. When I was about 10 years old I decided my knees were best left an unseen entity by the known world.

My issues with them were many and varied:

1) They were badly scarred and discolored from an accident when I was 6.
2) They were fat.
3) They were stretch-marked from all that fast food I ate.

Alright, so I only had three issues with my knees, but they were bigguns y'all! And until last month I'd firmly committed myself to never letting them see the light of day. (Aside from the odd trip to the pool, which brought up so many other body traumas that my fatty, marked-up knees actually became the least of my concerns.)

So, what happened in August? Well, I was shopping for another pair of work appropriate walking shorts. You know, something in a nice, tailored style that would let my legs breathe a little but not show too much. I was browsing one of my favorite sites when I saw these:


photo courtesy OneStopPlus.com

Oh my God, I thought, they're so cute! And they were ten bucks, so I bought them. I got them home and tried them on. They were downright cozy, those shorts! Nice, airy fabric with a nice color and nice pockets. I felt good in them.

Until I looked down and saw my knees. There they were, two banes of my existence just hangin' out and saying How Do! to the world at large. Dammit, I thought, can't keep 'em.

I had resolved to send them back. But, over the course of a week I tried them on for my mom and HUBS and put them on at least twice just to look at myself in them again, something I never do. Generally when I buy clothing, that's it. I try it on, I like it, I buy it, I cut the tags off and put it away. I couldn't do that here. There was a new kind of feeling I had when I put these shorts on. I felt nervous and excited and free and scared. Like I was doing something naughty; maybe even something that the general population wouldn't approve of...And? It felt good.

I decided to cheat a bit: I'd wear the shorts out once, and if I felt uncomfortable or kept tugging at them or kept looking to see how others were responding to The Knees, I'd send them back. Do you know what mighty amazing thing happened? I totally didn't care what random strangers might be thinking! And I was comfortable! And I didn't tug at them once!

I was freeeeeeeee! Over the course of the next month I wore my new Freedom Shorts about two or three times a week. Now I'm thinking of getting tights (something I haven't worn since about 2000) so I can keep rockin' my freedom as the weather gets cooler.

The lesson here, I think, is that so often we tell ourselves what we can't do/shouldn't do because of our or others' outdated ideas of ourselves. People! I missed out on shorts because, decades after I made the decision to keep them under wraps, I figured that was still the best option for me. If I'd tried to wear shorts earlier, who knows when I would have realized that I didn't need to hide anymore.

So? Just do it! At least once every few years, see how it feels to show your flabby upper arms (been there; busted that fear with my sleeveless wedding dress two years ago), your raggedy feet, your varicose veined calves and yes, even your fat, imperfect knees.

One day you may find clothing that makes you feel good, even with your (former) dislikes flashing the world.

Just Call Me Crotchety McGibbons

I'm becoming mighty prickly.

I think not having a good, close group of friends is making me grouchy. See, we have these neighbors. They moved into the nice, big house next door late last fall. And since then they have proceeded to host every kind of party and get-together known to man. Housewarmings, dinner parties, baby showers, wedding showers, study groups and God only knows what else. Sometimes, like last week, they have two parties within a couple of days.

Sometimes the entire street is lined with cars...for them. Often our parking spots right in front of our house are taken. This irritates me and HUBS more than you can imagine. And, since we're both overly introspective people we know why that is. It's not because of the parking spots, really. It's because they have friends.

People who willingly spend oodles of time with them, talking/laughing/commiserating/celebrating/dining and all the other things friends do with each other.

I'm incredibly embarrassed by this. HUBS and citygirl are jealous. Jealous of nice, fun-loving people who brought us cookies when they first moved in, again on Christmas day and left Valentine's treats for us.

We've been meaning for months to ask them out for coffee. They're young and seem nice and not-at-all-crazy (unlike so many of our neighbors) and they live right next door. Aside from the fact that we've had a lot going on, I think the real reason we haven't manned-up and done it is that we're scared and intimidated. Can two people who haven't had close friends is several years (that's us) make friends with two people who have gaggles of buds (that's them)? Will they like us? Will they think we're weird and move to get away from us? They are social and they are liked, can people who are THAT LIKED like us?

I know all we can do is try, and that the worst that would likely happen is we won't hit it off. I'm really awed by my inexperience in the making-friends area of this big ball of odd we call life.

Any suggestions from the internet?

Things We've Done Recently

We have had an interesting time of it lately. Here's what's been going on...



1)On the first Tuesday of this month, I noticed a opossum hanging out in our neighbor's driveway in the middle of the day. And it freaked me out, I thought that's all we need now, opossums running amok during the day. Well, by the same time the following day, that poor thing was dead. I guess it was sick and disoriented and that's why it was hanging out during daylight.

2) Almost two months to the day after this, I found another cat left in the road in front of our house. HUBS was at work, so I had to dig the grave myself. I don't think I'd ever really used a shovel before, and I was not very good at it. A lot of that had to do with it being hot and me being very sad. I named her Sheila and put her in the little dirt pile left after we got the tree in the front yard removed. Our neighbor, Fred, saw me digging and when he realized why got very upset. He puts out food and water for the strays like we do. When I said that someone must have hit her with their car her responded angrily with "Who! Who hit her!" and I appreciated his seeming desire to find the person and make them wish they had driven more carefully.

Then, two days later on Saturday, after a night of really hard, ridiculous raining, I went to put out food for the strays and found another kitten in the street. It was all very dramatic; me running through our flooded front walk, out into the rain and picking him up. He was wet and cold and already long gone. I brought him into the house and covered him in our doormat until HUBS could find a spot to bury him. I named him Stanley. RIP Sheila 9/3/09 and Stanley 9/5/09.


Boat. Not as big as you may have imagined.

3) That same day we went to Grafton, IL to see life-sized reproductions of Columbus' Pinta and Nina in dock. I was too upset about Stanley and Sheila to have a good time. Also, we went with his parents. They thought I was just tired. I realized that every time I've seen them this year has been on a day I was already in a crap-ass mood about something else. God only knows what they think is wrong with me!

4) With three cat deaths in two months we (me, HUBS and Fred) were starting to think it was time to get some of the strays adopted. Fred and I made calls to the Humane Society of MO, but they don't pick up strays. Animal control will give out humane cages to catch the animals, but a) they only give you one at a time, and that would take forever around here where we've got about 30 cats wandering our street; and b) if they don't have room for them after getting a clean bill of health, they still euthanize them. None of us wanted that, so we're leaving the cats alone. I still can't decide if that's really the right thing, though. Ideas?


Manny and the freakish eyes.

5) Life hasn't been all bad. For a brief period of time last week, we adopted a praying mantis that was hanging around our windows. HUBS named it Manny, which could be short for Manuela if it was a female. It was odd how responsive it was. More so than any other bug/insect I've seen. If you looked out the window at Manny, his head would immediately swivel to look at you. And if you moved around in the window you could actually see his eyes following you. HUBS looked up some mantis facts and found out they have 5 eyes, can see 60 feet and their heads turn 180 degrees. Freaky! After two days Manny moved on (we hope none of the kittens got him) and now we kinda miss the little freak.

6) During one of my many times at the window watching Manny, I accidentally saw him poop. Don't ask.

7) In a break from watching Everwood Season 2 or Friday Night Lights Season 3, I looked out to make sure no cats were in need anywhere. I found a baby opossum and a kitten eating the remainder of the food I'd put out that day. That damn kitten just couldn't leave well enough alone, and kept trying to play with the opossum's thick, ugly tail while it was eating. Opossum baby was coming real close to attacking the kitten because of it, so I stepped outside hoping to scare them off. Uh, you know they both just stood there and stared at me, right? For like a full two minutes, before opossum baby finally ran away. Baby animal crisis averted. See how brave I am when I can hide most of my body behind our front door?

8) Last Friday night, on our way to one of my bar reviews, we saw a opossum get run over by a car. Now, let me just say that I am no opossum fan. They are creepy, disgusting looking and I've heard they're pretty mean. But, I don't want to watch anything suffer, and Goddammit that thing suffered. It was horrible to see. I'll leave it at that.

9) With all this death-of-animals stuff going on, I asked my mom last week if she thought it was some kind of sign. She believes in that type of thing and so do I. I mean, I was starting to worry that God, The Universe, Whatever wasn't getting through to me about something so they were using dead animals to get me to notice what the fuck ever I need to notice. My mom didn't think so, and that really helped ease my mind. It might sound crazy, but there you go.

10) Speaking of my mom, we went to a job fair together last Wednesday with one of my aunts. Mom got laid off after her brother died back in April and hadn't really been looking for work much yet, but heard that the companies at this fair didn't need to see people with degrees, which was good for her. Unfortunately, she got some misinformation. But we still got our resumes to the company she was hoping to talk with. And, I got lots of goodies from the company tables at the fair. Thank you Brown Shoe Company, I've always wanted a tiny pomegranate lip balm!

11) I also spent a day last week trying to help my mom get her room organized. See, she's become quite the hoarder of paper; she's thrown very little away for the past 14years. Her bedroom is filled with bags, boxes and baskets of old bills and mail. How did this happen? Oh, that's easy; it's my bastard father's fault.

See, back in 1994 when he left her, he bought over $3,000 worth of crap for his new place on their shared credit card...And then filed for bankruptcy. So, for years and years they came after my mom for the money. For things she never bought or even saw. She has been afraid to throw anything away for fear that if she couldn't hide from them anymore she wouldn't have the proof that she never bought that crap and shouldn't have to pay for it.

That crap finally fell off her credit report in 2002, but she can't stop saving things. When I went into her room last week I realized that she even has papers under her pillow and comforter, under the bed, in the closet and in the laundry room. I didn't know how bad it was. So I decided to help her get things straight. I was there one day from 10am to almost 7pm and we cleared out three baskets filled with old bills, receipts and pay stubs dated 1995 to 1998. We have a long way to go.

12)Last Friday our house was almost eaten by a woodpecker. I heard this horrible noise that sounded like someone was trying to pick open our locks, looked out the window and saw nothing. The noise kept coming, and it was freaking out Tux, too. I looked out again and this time looked toward the top of the door and found the bird pecking away at the door frame. I beat on the door and got it to leave for a bit, but it came back to the same spot and tried to make a home. Finally the thing got tired and went someplace else. Is that crazy, or what?


Miller, on the left, with her sister Harris. Miller is currently the only stray that likes to have us pet her.

13) Again with the death. I woke up Monday afternoon (that's right, I'm unemployed and loving the freedom) and saw a dead bird on the sidewalk. One of our favorite strays, Miller, eventually came and picked it up. I hope the bird wasn't diseased, I would hate for Miller to get sick and not be able to help her.

14) Do not believe the hype about ladybugs. When I was burying Sheila, one landed on my arm and bit the shit out of me leaving a nasty little bump behind. I am not happy with you, ladybug!

15) We have a bar stool in a corner of our bedroom where I keep a favorite pair of shoes. I went to put them on Saturday and found a cricket up there with its...Aw hell, I'm gonna say it, poop. What is it with us and droppings?


I'll have a special paw gun made if I have to, Sebastian.

16) And...Just a few minutes ago, I watched one of the strays (we call her Sebastian) fight a pretty big snake...IN OUR FRONT YARD. It wasn't just in the front yard, either. It was dangerously close to the front door. Sebastian kept getting tired and walking away to lie down for a bit, and every time I hoped she'd come back with a tiny little gun and blow that snake away. I watched her for over a half hour, and then ran around putting glue boards (thank you, Orkin Man!) down near every basement window, the front door and two openings around the back door on our deck.

Can I just say, internet, I'm tired of nature, death and shit. Absolutely wiped.

A Bear Will Not Be Eating My Head This Year, No Siree

See those buildings? I prefer being around things like that. Yeah.

HUBS and I had a ridiculously hard week last week. We worked our silly little asses off and I will talk about it at some point, but not right now.

Right now, I will discuss with you, internet, how I, citygirl, almost went into the woods.

HUBS' folks rent some cabin thingy in the middle of Nowhere, MO called Bunker Hill. Every year his parents and his sister, Tiny Sarcasm's family go up there for a weekend. This year they invited us.

Now, I have said this many times on this blog and elsewhere, but here it is again: I do not like outdoorsy things. I do not like bugs, sleeping in cabins, going to outhouses, wild animals running amok, being in the middle of nowhere, or excessive no-one-around-to-hear-me-scream quiet. His people know this. And yet, they invited me to the woods.

I'm sure it was perfectly innocent. Anyway, HUBS really wanted to go, so (for him and for him only) I briefly considered it. But, only on the condition that he do several things for me in return. Boy, making this list was fun...

If I Go To The Woods 8/1/09

1. Small trip to see band I like and HUBS hates. (There aren't many of these, but I'm sure I could find at least one)

2. Two days of Tickle With Impunity. (I get to tickle him, he does not get to ask me to stop)

3. Pluck or shave all body hair I distrust. (HUBS has weird little hairs here and there that he simple refuses to let me remove. This would be my shot)

4. Four days of loading & emptying dishwasher. (He refuses to do both things unless he sees I'm really angry about something else, and yet I almost always do both by myself)

5. Go to museum 1 day every weekend until I say stop. (He likes museums, so this isn't really punishment just a way to get us to do this thing I've been talking about for months now)

6. Paint my toenails. (HUBS has such an aversion to my feet, even when sparkling clean, that this would be too good to pass up)

7. Four days of no slap blocking. (Occasionally, HUBS does things that I need to give him a little whack on the arm/chest/back for. Here, he is not allowed to block me)

8. Two nights of cooking dinner, not burgers/fries/pasta. (He claims this is all he can cook, he's pretty smart though, so I'm sure he can read recipe instructions)

9. Five days of facing me when we talk in bed. (HUBS looks like a pirate when he lays in bed, I like to see this when we talk, but he often turns away from me to "rest that side". Not this week, buddy)

Since I will not be getting paid for the assload of deep, hard physical labor I did last week on HUBS behalf, I'm considering putting these into practice as payment even thought we're not going into the woods. Wait, you say. Why aren't you going into the woods? Well, two awesomely good reasons.

One. It would cost money (!). And, two, the very same day his parents called about us going, just hours later when I was napping, I had a dream that I was standing in the woods near a creek minding my own business and a bear came up behind me and ate my head off my body in one bite. So, no, I really do not think so. At all.

But hey, HUBS' folks, thanks for asking.