So, Um...Yeah. Not Good, Citygirl...

Eating delectable food like this for work probably isn't helping much.

I just got back from the doctor. I had really convinced myself that I was holding at 245 pounds. Unfortunately I've finally topped 250. I now weigh 253 pounds. Shit.

I'm not gonna say stuff's really going to change now. I've said that so many times in the past few years and I can just never get off my ass and do anything. Actually I don't know what I'm saying or planning or anything. I'm just disgusted with myself.

Blah.

Have You Noticed...?

Joy

The days are cooler and shorter.
The leaves are beginning to fall.
Hot chocolate suddenly seems like a good idea again.
Yay!

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.

Splendored Thing

Puppy love...But not in the truest since of the phrase.

Back during Hell Week '09, when I helped HUBS finish an insane amount of work at his job the week before school started, I took a little break one time and sat my tired ass down at a teacher's desk to rest. I looked around her space a bit and came on a note written for her by a student last school year.

Here, for you now, the awesomeness that was the letter she had taped to a filing cabinet:

"You are like a sweet apple in a tree. When I sad (not a typo, this kid was only like 8 years old when he wrote this) you comfort me. Trust me I've seen your heart. Mrs. K you are a work of art. You are so pretty I can't close my eyes. And just like my mother you haven't told any lies."

She's so pretty that the boy can't close his eyes, y'all! Lordy, somebody's passions run deep already!

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.

This Is What Happens When HUBS Is Stressed

So, this week has been insane for HUBS and I. Due to construction at the school he works for, he now has ONE FREAKIN WEEK to do THREE WEEKS WORTH of work. This have driven HUBS to severe fits of construction-man anger over the past month. And, because I am a lovely human being who didn't want to see her husband go insane, I offered to help.

On Monday we worked 13 and 1/2 hours (with meal breaks, of course). I was riotously exhausted that night but couldn't, for some reason go to sleep when I hit the bed. HUBS was pumped from getting a good start on all the work and tried to get me to sleep. Turning off the tv, turning on the tv, turning the tv volume down. At one point he put it on a Berenstain Bears cartoon on PBS and, apparently, I finally drifted right off after hours of torturous non-sleep.

Then, about an hour later, I got a poke in the shoulder from HUBS. He had something to tell me. I looked at him.

HUBS: (grinning wildly from ear to ear, eyes wide open and pointing downward as he lay in the bed staring at me) WHO'S GOT BALLS??!!

citygirl: (looking at the HUBS crotch, seeing nothing out of the ordinary) What?

HUBS: WHO'S GOTTT BAAAALLLLLS?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!! (maniacal giggling)

I didn't say another word. In fact, all I did was turn over and go back to sleep. But I remember thinking "This is how stress fucks with you? Really? God dammit!"

Let me tell you, internet, the next morning was quite interesting. HUBS had to take me out to breakfast for that one...

Some Good

About two weeks after this happened, we discovered a family of kittens living under our deck. See...



There were four orange kittens and a mom hiding there. What's interesting is that when we found Oliver in the street I was afraid he was the one who'd come to eat when I put food out and meow all the time. It was a raspy, growly meow that I liked to hear. Turns out, it was this momma cat. I've named her Harley.



They moved out after about a week and headed for our neighbor Fred's backyard, but we still see them around. And, we've been visited by the new kitten family (we call mom Harris, she has blue eyes) living in the empty yard next door.

All of this is by way of saying, this almost makes up for Oliver. Though, I do worry about those kittens a lot.

My Weekend Was...

Eventful.

Friday was...


Guster!

A walk around the Arch grounds taking photos with HUBS
A free riverfront concert from Guster
A fireworks display over the river
A walk through the drunken denizens of Laclede's Landing
A snack at Morgan Street Brewery
A trip home at midnight that took a half hour to go 10 blocks
Fun


Snap, crackle, pop, bang

Saturday was...


Yum cubed

Cooking fried cinnamon toast, an omelet and bacon for a late breakfast
Eating Pillsbury Break 'n' Bake Cinnabon cookies right after
Seeing Happy-Go-Lucky & Grey Gardens (the Drew & Jessica version) & liking them
Taking a long nap with HUBS
Leaving at 9pm for dinner at La Salsa
Loving the new restaurant
Impulsively driving around for a showing of (500) Days of Summer
Catching a band playing in the Loop
Finding out 411 will give you movie show times

Sunday was...

Blissfully staying at home all day
Getting work done
Resting
Eating
Enjoying

Hope you had a good weekend too.

Internet, Why Didn't You Tell Me?

Oh my God, y'all...

Last night HUBS and I went to see Julie & Julia. It's a really good movie and I'll be reviewing it here next week. It's the rare girly movie that has nothing to do with finding a man or keeping a man. Finally, you Hollywood fuckers!

Anyway, that wasn't my revelation. We went bowling after the movie and I sucked ass really hard. I did so bad it actually depressed me. So when we went to the grocery store later to find HUBS some black cherries, I looked around for something I could snack on past 10pm that wouldn't make me feel worse about myself. I stopped in the jelly isle and saw the Lemon Curd.

I thought, really? On toast? Oh heavenly heavens, yes! On toast! I got home, grilled up some cinnamon bread in the skillet with some of that I Can't Believe This Is What We're Calling Butter, Now stuff and slathered on a thin layer of the curd, just in case it tasted like ass.

But, OHMYJESUS...It was so fucking good! Why has no one told me about this before? I mean, I'd heard of it but I didn't know it could be a breakfast/snack implement. Dammit internet! Let me know things!

Really, everyone should just run out right now and try the stuff. Open the jar right in the store and just stick your tongue in it. You will be so, so glad you did.


Photo from here

For Women Who Have Considered Rogaine When Vitamins Are Not Enuff

We know I wouldn't look this good without hair, right?

At least I was considering it, until I read the website and saw it only works for hereditary female baldness. Dammit stress related hair loss!

Not Bad

I'm sorta happy for now.

I had a pretty good day yesterday. I feel like I have irons in the fire and I'm starting to really get things going for myself.

Looking over what I wrote on Monday, I realized I completely left out the good stuff that's happened lately. Like, I got more (Paid, yay!!) work through the website I've been writing for. So now I make a whole $200 a week. Not nearly enough to get us out of the hole, but a definite step in the right direction (you know, the 'more money' direction).

Also, and this is really huge for me, I published a book of my photos on Blurb.com. I know! Now...I still need to try to publicize it. If there's a photo-lover who's close to you, please check out the book. I think it would make a great gift, especially if they enjoy what I like to call "urban artifacts", old signs and doors and such.


Holy shit! This is my book!!

Take a look here. And, you can also vote for me to get the People's Choice Award for their Photography Now contest on the same page. I'd love it if you could help me out!

While I was working on my interview questions yesterday for a piece I'm writing for the website, I came across a few open freelance positions at a well-known, used-to-be-underground local weekly magazine. I was so excited that I dropped the research and applied immediately. I'd be writing about food again, and hopefully getting more money so, keep your fingers crossed for me!

And, two weeks ago I happened upon one of those e-invite sites, pingg.com. I'd actually never heard of it before, but I looked around a bit because they had some really cool art for some of the invites. Then I read some of the artist profiles and realized none of them are famous. So I sent an email to the submission lady and she said she'd love to consider my stuff for their artist's series. On Monday (she told me to wait until after she got back from vacation) I sent her 30 images to peruse. I'm fuckin' excited about this, too! Again, dear readers, cross your fingers!

What else? Oh yeah, I'm considering putting an ad on Craigslist as a funeral photographer for hire. I know it sounds strange, but at two of the three funerals I went to earlier this year I was actually asked to document the occasion. There has to be someone else who'd like this service, right?

And, look at my photoblog. I'm so proud of myself for figuring out how to post really big photos. The small pictures were kind of a waste, since my file sizes are so big. This is much, much better!

Look at me, internet! I'm doing things!

I Am Very Inconsistent

I've had that thing happen again where some bad stuff happened and I wanted to write about it, but just couldn't. So, I didn't write at all for a month and a day. Here's what's been going on...

1) July 4th started out fine, HUBS and I went to review a bar/club for my $100 a week job and the food and drinks were good. We were planning to go see fireworks later that night. It was a nice afternoon...Until we pulled up to our house.

A smallish orange cat (who looked a lot like the 5 to 8 other smallish orange cats we have around here)was laying in the street near our neighbor's SUV. I parked as fast as I could, jumping out and running over to him (it was a him, I checked). Someone had hit him and just kept going. I picked him up and tried to make him move, we were planning to get him to the emergency clinic, but he was already gone.


Here lies Oliver...

I then stood in front of our house, holding the smallish, dead orange cat and cried for about 20 minutes. HUBS finally got me to put him down and went to get a shovel so we could bury him. While HUBS dug I thought of a name for the little guy, Oliver. We buried him under our flower bed in the back, and I cried for probably a total of three hours. Someone hit him, and just left him in the street...

Needless to say that ruined our 4th of July. We tried to watch fireworks later, but left the house too late to get any kind of good spot. That pissed me off even more. For about a week after this sadness we tried in earnest to get another cat from the Humane Society but couldn't decide between two of them (luckily one got adopted), and then we ran out of money anyway. Which leads me to #2.

2) By July 14 it was pretty clear that we were totally out of money. I used up the last of my unemployment extension at the end of June and my $100/week gig doesn't exactly help cover much. HUBS moved all our bills (even the mortgage and my student loan - which I've never been late on in the 12 years I've been paying it) to his next pay day. I suspended our savings deductions and transferred what little was in there to pay bills. Then I made a really hard decision: I went to my mom for money. Again.


We suck.

P.T. helped us out in April with a huge loan that kept us afloat for about 6 weeks. Right after she gave us that money (literally a day later) she got laid off herself. She kept telling me that she was ok financially, so I took a chance and called her and asked her for anything she could help with. I immediately regretted it and felt like a stupid child. I'm a married woman who's been on her own for 11 years and twice in just a few months I've had to ask my mother for money.

She gave us another huge loan, enough so that we could pay things a couple days late instead of 10. I went to pick the money up after doing something that may help me get a job. Hence, #3.

3) The unemployment offices have free job workshops that I've completely neglected the entire time I've been jobless. I finally decided to go to the resume and interviewing workshops on the 14th and 15th of this month. What did I find out? My resume, which I thought was pretty good, was a total piece of crap.

Why? Two reasons...a) I had too many types of things on there (reception/admin stuff, film/entertainment stuff and writing/photography stuff), which made me look like I didn't know what I wanted instead of looking multi-talented and well-rounded and b) I hadn't listed any accomplishments in my jobs.



Now, I'd heard of this "accomplishment" thing, but I hated my receptionist/admin work so hard that it was difficult for me to think in terms of doing anything in those positions that could be labeled as such. It took me a week after the workshop to finally redo my resume, and once I started thinking, it wasn't so hard. The lady who ran the seminars actually looked it over (I decided to start with dreaded recep/admin work since it is what I've done the most of) and approved it.

It's been a few days since then, I haven't used it to apply anywhere. What the fuck is wrong with me, you say? I'm scared. Scared that even now that I have the perfect resume I still won't be able to get a job.

I'm not just inconsistent, I'm monumentally fucked up.

4) I've also applied for another UE extension. I should find out this week if I've gotten it. Cross your finger for me people. And if you pray, please do that too.

Vacationary

Straight up, straight down.

I know. I've been gone for a while. Well, I was recovering from our three day road trip to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I picked this spot on a lark since neither HUBS nor myself had ever been there. And, I can honestly say that I wouldn't have picked it had I known that the whole cute little town was exclusively UP HILL.

We arrived on Tuesday two weeks ago after about a six hour drive. We headed into their historic downtown, which was blissfully empty due to the semi-late hour. We walked and took pictures a bit. It was kinda hilly, but not horrible. I was hot but since the sun was going down the heat wasn't that bad.

But then there was Wednesday. We got out right at the peak of the day, noon, when the sun is high in the sky and the universe is trying to kill me. First, let me say that this is NOT a town to drive in. They have a trolley that'll take you from most of the major hotels around the sites downtown; use it people! We didn't and paid for it by getting lost on their winding, hilly, embarrassingly narrow, not-laid-out-in-a-grid-at-all-albeit-pretty streets.


Most streets are 1/3 of this size. I'm not even playing.

Also? We went during the middle of the week thinking it wouldn't be that crowded. Um, it was like freakin' 4th of July down there. There were that many people. Hence our trouble parking and finally having to settle on a paid lot ($5 for 3 hours). Hi, Arkansas, I know you don't know us, but we don't have much money and HATE paying just to leave our car somewhere. Dammit, Arkansas!

So the first thing we did was go to this pizza place I'd researched. It was really hard to find, we were both hungry and since HUBS was driving this means he got really frustrated while I remained fairly calm. All the parking spots on the street were either taken or marked NO PARKING. (That's right, obvious parking spots in parking lots were actually labelled NO. PARKING. Fuck you Arkansas.) So, we headed for the paid lots we saw the day before.

Here's where things got hairy for me. In case you don't already know, I'm not in very good shape, I sweat a lot, I dislike heights, I abhor being hot and/or sweaty and I do not like to climb. In order to get back to the pizza place I had to: get hot, sweaty and climb heights. This lead to a copious amount of cursing on my part while HUBS remained fairly calm. There are several sets of stairs you can take from the parking to the higher streets where the pizza place was located. The one we took had (I counted) 89 steps. Jesus. Then we got inside the place, which had a bar and a restaurant, and guess what? Yes! The restaurant was up another 25 steps. I yelled out something like "Jesus' Ass!!" and soon realized that the people sitting in the restaurant heard me pretty clearly. Oh, well. Sorry, Arkansas.


Stairs like this were literally all over the place. Clearly the town was carved out of a mountain...and not very well.

Pizza=Awesome. Really some of the best we've ever had. Homemade herbed crust, huge slices, cheesy, and a good Parmesan spill courtesy of HUBS. We ate, cooled down, had two huge sodas, asked our helpful server dude for directions to our next site seeing adventure and took off.


HUBS dressing up our pizza.

We hit more steps (up, of course), walked up hill a bit and then things leveled off. I was grateful and could relax enough to take pictures as we walked. Then, we hit this:



I don't know if you can really grasp the height and scariness from the Polaroid, but that little wooden path on the right was about 2 feet wide, it went almost straight up (so much so that you had to lean forward when walking so as not to fall backwards), and to the right of the path was a straight drop onto the roofs of several houses (maybe 30 or 40 feet, definitely a kill-worthy fall). By the time we reached the top I was dripping with sweat and my t-shirt was actually soaked through. Yay! Wet t-shirt contest! You're welcome, Arkansas!

Then we had another challenge, a walk through the woods. Almighty God, that state really tried my nerves. There were anonymous houses to the left of the stone path through Jasonland and scary-ass woods on the right. There were spots in there where I thought I was going to just die, people. Thank God it was at least daytime.

We went through all this to get here:



An old church where you enter through what used to be the bell tower. It was kinda pretty but not exactly worth all the trouble. After our Lord of the Rings like journey to get to the place I expected there to be free gold or something that would end the coming apocalypse there. No such luck. We really should have taken the trolley...

Then we had to make our way down. When we hit the main part of downtown again, I had walked and climbed so much that I felt weak and my legs were rubbery, like I was going to collapse. We ducked into a souvenir shop for cool air and the lady behind the counter took pity on me and my wet shirt and offered me paper towels. Finally, thank you Arkansas!


Down was scarier than up. I had to lean back to not roll face first down the hill.

Even with all the trials I have to say I had a good time. We ate good food, saw new things, I got lots of good pictures and I challenged myself without knowing I was going to.

What else happened while we were there? We went to WalMart Tuesday night and got caught in the strangest electrical storm either of us had ever seen. Ran inside the store once we realized the noise we heard was sheets of rain slowly coming toward us. Got trapped inside WalMart while the hellish rain died down. Went without reliable internet access for two days. Changed hotel rooms to get one with a fridge/microwave combo and a better toilet (the toilet was still crap). Had hotel sex. Saw a deer just hanging out at the entrance to downtown. Ate awesome BBQ, ice cream and funnel cake. Sat on our balcony and watched a woman play catch with her dog down below. Walked a scary wooden bridge over the street. Tried to get to an all-you-can-eat catfish place before they closed, but the stupid street numbers were wrong so we ended up eating leftover pizza, tacos and fries for dinner. I walked through a spider web at a restaurant, found it on my neck a few minutes later, killed it with my utensils and then pretended I found the squished spider on my napkin to the waitress so she'd get me another one. Drove a half hour out of our way (while eating funnel cake) to get to an attraction that turned out to be closed that day.


A whole shop devoted to funnel cake? Yes!

Yeah, that was pleasantly eventful. Where are you going this summer?

Dammit Summer!

I think the sun hates me right back.

Oh fuck, here we go. Yesterday when I went out to feed the cats at 9am it was already 83 degrees outside. All hot, heavy and sticky. We are now officially in summer. No more cooling down at night and then getting ridiculously hot during the day, oh no. It will now be ass-the-fuck tropical damn hot 24 hours a day and seven days a week. Joy.

My deep hatred for summer is well-documented on this blog. I literally cannot stand it. Yesterday morning's heat sent me into a deep, summer-is-here related funk. I had things to do, but couldn't. All I could think was "Jesus' ass, it's hot out there!" I took a nap three hours after waking up because of it.

Summer just takes the life out of me. I can't concentrate. I want to move even less than I normally do. The very idea of things makes me tired. Anything other than sleep is exhausting. It's a miserable way to live.

Really, can't we stagger the heat? You know, have an 85 degree day on Monday and then a 65 degree day Tuesday. Wouldn't that make more sense? I bet less people would kill and be murdered during summers if we worked it like that.

Oh. That Finally Makes Some Sense.

I bet HUBS looked like this when he got his allowance as a kid. Then he went and blew it all on his first Playboy.

Somewhere around May 7 I got another call from the unemployment people. I have to say this was the first conversation I'd had with them since they took my benefits away where the person on the other end made the whole situation make sense.

Here's what the guy told me: I had two pools of money available that they could give me benefits from, and part of the investigation process was to see which I was eligible for. One stash was from an extension on my original claim, that I was eligible for immediately (YES!!!), the other was government money that I'd only be able to get if I was actually an employee somewhere (as opposed to doing freelance work). To get that money I'd need to make $1300 as an actual employee.

Another thing I didn't know? You can only file for unemployment against a company one time, and get those benefits for one year (unless you qualify for an extension of those benefits). If you're making a new claim, it has to be with a new company.

It took a while for me to really understand what he was saying to me. But he was blissfully patient. It all boiled down to HUBS and I getting a huge deposit (from all the weeks we got nothing) on the day we did BOWL STROLL 2009!!! We'll actually be ok for a little bit.

Thank God.

Are We Alcoholics Yet?

We drank all these and more, y'all! The one in the lower left corner? That's absinthe and it was outlawed for 95 years and only recently became legal in the states! It made HUBS' tongue numb!

Back in early April I got a $100 a week job reviewing bars and clubs for an entertainment website. They want me to focus on booze, which is not my strong suit. In fact, until I got this job I had never had a full drink of any sort in my whole life. I never liked the taste of alcohol and didn't see a reason to booze it up just because other people did.

Well, maybe you can chalk this up to my recent high stress levels, but...um, I've been drinking. A lot. Like, sometimes, two whole drinks a week. That, my internet friends, is a ton for me. And, guess what? I kinda like it. I never finish anything I end up not liking, but when I get something good (for me that means sweet and light on the booze) drinking the whole thing makes me feel very adult. Like I know exactly what I want (I don't), how to get it (I wish) and how to act once I reel it in (I couldn't possibly).

We each have to have at least two drinks for my editor to be satisfied we tested enough of each bar/club's spirits. This has meant a lot of mixed drinks for me and HUBS. And since we don't get reimbursed for food and drink on top of the hundred they pay me, we usually feel the need to finish everything. Which means if I don't like something HUBS will try to drink it all, along with his two drinks...Which also means HUBS sometimes comes away rip-roaring-rootin'-tootin-thinks-peeing-in-the-alley-is-fun drunk. Let's all pray my sweet HUBS doesn't become a lushy hobo because of this, ok?

Thank God for small jobs. Now, if I could only rack up about five or six other small gigs that each pay $100/week. Fuck, you guys. HUBS and I would be set!

Bowl-O-Rama!!!

Turned out to be more fun than I thought.

HUBS has been bugging me since the beginning of the year to go bowling. I was not enthusiastic about this at all. The last time I bowled was when I was a senior in high school. There was a horribly boring week (but a blissfully sweat-free one) where they made us bowl for gym class. So, each day we'd hop on a school bus and head to a bowling alley down the street and around the corner. I hated it. I never knocked any pins down. It was boring. I had to wear other people's shoes. And I hated every single minute of it.

Somewhere around early March HUBS bought some bowling shoes in anticipation of us bowling, and it only took another month and a half for us to actually get ourselves to an alley. But, when we did...HOLY GOD DID I EVER HAVE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNN!!!


I love neon signs...

We went to a relatively new and very trendy alley downtown called Flamingo Bowl. I kept getting strikes and picking up spares when I needed to! The shoes fit fine! I brought my own Lysol to sanitize them! I found the perfect weight ball with the perfect size finger holes for my massive digits! There was pizza! It was good! We gave the leftovers to a homeless guy who promptly threw it in the trash because he really wanted cash for booze! It was a great night!


My ideal bowling ball will look like this...Pleasantly girly.

I think I managed to do so well because of all the no job/no money/no unemployment cash stress I've been under. There have been so many times lately where I really, really wanted to do damage to something (someone) and simply couldn't. Throwing a heavy ball into unsuspecting pins seemed to relieve a lot of tension for me. And HUBS. Our entertainment budget mainly consists of Netflix/Redbox rentals and Taco Bell. We were both dying for an outlet.


The last place we hit was the closest to our house. They have the perfect alley size, good eats, are pretty clean and they issue coupons...Swoon!

This past Saturday we took the experiment a step further by implementing BOWL STROLL 2009!!! It's our bowl-a-rrific version of a pub crawl. See, HUBS had compiled a list of alleys he wanted to try so we could decide which would be worth our time long-term. So, in one afternoon we bought me a pair of bowling shoes and then proceeded to bowl one game at two different alleys and two games at a third. It. WAs. AWESOME!!!!!!!


Funnel Cake in french fry form? Yes, please!

There was cool food (Funnel fries and deep fried cauliflower, anyone?), old alleys, trendy alleys, giant sodas, wild colors, birthday parties, people bowling worse than me, bowl ephemera, pin up girls and a ton of exercise. I think I'm still tired from all the activity and it's kinda fabulous. I didn't bowl as well this time, but I can honestly say that I now want my own bowling ball. It shall be in the fuchsia/purple family. And it will be stunning.

The Rule of 3s

My uncle, middle, at 18 and my mom, in the red, at 16.

Ok, I haven't written in a long time, and the seeming law of nature I refer to in the title is why. In the past month, HUBS and I have had three family members die. This is the tribute post I kept meaning to write. Every time I seriously thought about publishing it, someone else died. So, now that we've gotten to the magic number...Here goes.

My uncle Jerry died one month ago today, Sunday, April 19 2009. He was 60 years old and had at least 32 health problems (more than anyone in the family knew about). He had been home one day from the physical therapy center he had been in for about a month after having a serious set of heart attacks back in February. The abiding feeling in the family is that he knew it was coming and wanted to die at home.

Things he did:
- When my mom was 5 he hid her from the police when she hit a boy in the head with a baseball bat and knocked the kid unconscious. Jerry was 7 at the time.
- Had mostly white and friends at a time when there wasn't a lot of mingling between black and white people.
- Would tell you not to mess up his hair.
- Sat me and my two cousins in our grandmother's easy chair back in the '70s (when all three of us could fit in one chair) and played his guitar for and sang. He left me his guitar.
- Was the requisite cranky, dirty-old-man uncle (even when he was young), who would still do anything for you.
- Told my aunt, during my parents divorce, "If he (my asshole father) makes that baby (my mom) cry one more time I'm going to kill him."
- Literally kept track of every cent he ever spent. When we descended upon his house to try locating his insurance papers, we found boxes and boxes filled with old ledgers, receipts and cancelled checks. How much did he pay for that Domino's pizza on December 3, 1990? Wait, what was the cost of those cigarettes on June 21, 1977 again?
- Didn't believe in owning things. He bought a new car about every three years, and whenever he got close to paying off his house he'd take out a new mortgage on it. To him, if you didn't own anything, nobody could really take anything away from you.
- Made the two hour drive to get me from college when I had my nervous breakdown. Bought me Burger King on the way home.
- Dated one woman for 27 years and helped raise her daughter from a previous marriage, but never married himself.

HUBS' grandmother died almost a week later on April 23, 2009. She was 92. She had Alzheimer's and had declined rapidly in the weeks leading up to her death.

Things she did:
- Was the requisite cool grandmother.
- Told HUBS dirty jokes when he was a kid.
- Survived The Depression, when her mom left her and a couple of her sisters in a children's home. Her mom took her sisters home eventually, but never came to get her.
- Vowed never to leave her kids for any reason.
- She reportedly had a "spaghetti dance" which included lots of hip shaking and arm waving while the noodles were cooking.
- Was game for camping and canooing.
- Helped her husband build two houses.
- Was quite spunky and fashionable in her day.
- Always waved and smiled at me while she was in the extended care home, even though she never knew who I was.


I should have made her tea cakes more often.

My godmother's mom died the Thursday before Mother's Day on May 7, 2009. She was 95. She was the 7th of 14 kids. Only three are left now.

Things she did:
- Mothered all of her younger siblings, without prompting from her parents.
- Wanted to be a nurse, but there wasn't enough money for her to continue her education at that level. Her daughter and one of her sisters each became nurses.
- Studied cosmetology and did the hair of the sick and shut in.
- Ran a store with her husband and daughter (my godmother, when she was a kid) called The Three Nichols (their last name), that my mom went to as a child long before she and my godmother were friends.
- Said "And that is that!" when she was done having a conversation with you.
- Hated the St. Louis Cardinals baseball team. Forever.
- Hot combed my hair a few times when I was little.
- Loved jewelry, but still parted with one of her gorgeous, pearl clustered, gold rings to give me for my high school graduation.
- When one of her younger brothers came home from college complaining about how hard it was and how he might quit, she gave him $5 and told him to take his butt back to school.

We miss you all.

Easter Sunday

To my absolute horror.

I hope everyone out there who celebrates Easter had a good one this year. Especially since mine kinda sucked.

I was up early, trying to get some things done before HUBS and I had to leave for the two hour trip to his folks in mid-Missouri. I could have sworn we should have some cash in our account left over from his last paycheck. I looked at our account. Not only did we not have anything left over, there wasn't enough to cover all our bills until his next pay day.

We'd be about $400 short. Having already paid some of last months bills with one of my credit cards I felt absolutely desperate and panicked. I called the only person I could think to: my mom.

I called on the pretense of only wishing her a Happy Easter, just so I could back out of asking for money if I needed to. She asked how I was and I broke down. I told her about not getting unemployment for the past 6 weeks and that we had no money to pay our bills and that we've been living off my credit cards and that we never have money for groceries. Stuff I had been avoiding telling her because I was hoping it would get better; hoping it wouldn't come to this.

PT told me it would be ok and to stop crying. She asked how much I needed and I told her. She said to calm down and come over.

I didn't feel like putting on clothes, but I knew this unplanned trip would make us late for HUBS' parents, so I did. HUBS was still in bed, I told him I was running to my mom's, kissed him quickly and left. I cried most of the way there.

PT hugged me when I got there. And, I started crying again. Shit, it was days ago now and I'm crying again thinking about the fact that I'm 34 and married and had to ask my mom for money.

She gave us far more than the 400 bucks I asked for. I protested, but took it anyway when she kept counting money out to me. PT tried to cheer me up by telling me that everybody goes through hard times and that right now this is just what I need to deal with. She also revealed that she was without a job for 2 years in the '70s. I figure this was when she was still at home with my grandmother but basically grown.

I thanked PT a lot and left about a half hour after getting there. I cried on the way home, then put a large portion of the cash in the bank.

All of this is a long way of saying that my Easter felt totally fucked. I then had to go to HUBS' family and pretend to be happy that Jesus was risen and I was with his folks, even though all I wanted to do was scream and curl up into a little ball and cry myself tired.

Revelation

I was reading this today and I think I had a breakthrough.

Maybe I can't find a job because that's not what I want. I had "a job" and hated it for 8 of the 9 years and 5 months I was there - no matter what I did. I left that place because I wanted more than just "a job." I wanted to enjoy my work. I wanted to actually use my brain and talents. I wanted freedom. I wanted better money for work I enjoyed and couldn't wait to do.

So, if this is my block to finding work, what does it mean? We need money, another real income, but I will never be happy with "a job." What do I do? Do I stop praying for exactly the thing I don't want (because the Universe knows I don't really want it anyway)? Do I go back to praying for meaningful work I can enjoy? Even if it means I don't work again for another year?

What the hell do I do???