Because We Have No Sense Of Proportion

Even more personalities in our tiny, little house. Poor Tux.

I have continually neglected to write about the fact the HUBS and I now have two additional cats. Even though we'd looked into getting another cat last summer (which didn't pan out), these additions were totally by accident. (By the way, this post is long, but if you care about cat stuff it should be a fairly rewarding read for you.)

Last September, HUBS and I came home one Sunday to find two kittens huddled up together in the middle of the street. They didn't move as our car drove up, so HUBS honked at them. They didn't budge. I got out of the car to shoo them along...Still, no moving. I had to literally get right up on them and scream to scare them off. We decided that these kittens were absolutely not ready for the world of a stray cat if they didn't move for a car careening toward them, and set out to catch them and take them to the Humane Society.

They were teeny, so we got Tux's carrier and HUBS suited up in long sleeves, gloves and a hat to prepare for The Inevitable Clawing. When we came back outside one kitten was across the street and one was in our walkway with some other strays. We went for the closest one first.

This was a kitten we'd been keeping our eyes on and had named Shakes because when you got close to him he wouldn't move but would begin to shake uncontrollably. Shakes was so out of it, that HUBS was able to sneak up on him and catch him without much trouble. We got the little guy into the carrier with a minimum of screeching and scratching. Once he was in there and realized he couldn't get out, Shakes totally took a nap.

Now we had to head across the street to our neighbor Fred's driveway where Shakes' apparent brother was hiding. Fuck, that kitten was fast! We chased him all over the driveway and yard and finally gave up when it became obvious he was completely capable of avoiding capture. We named him Speedy for this very reason.

We headed with Shakes to the Humane Society, as planned, to give him up. Then the intake lady explained that if we left him there they wouldn't give us any info on how he was doing or if he got adopted or anything. We'd have to make a total clean break. I was almost ok with that...Until she added that if they couldn't un-sick Shakes they'd have to put him down.

Holy God. Guys, I started to cry. I'd seen so many anonymous cats die in the past few months that the idea of Shakes dying without us getting to know him made me really fucking upset. HUBS asked if I wanted to take him and I said yes without hesitation. When we brought him home he was about 5 weeks old, had parasites, a shit load of fleas and a terrible upper respiratory infection. And, he looked like this:



After months of several-times-a-day medicine, a shit storm of shots and vaccinations and getting him fixed in February so he would stop dry humping the other stray we took in, he looks like this:



Also known as Shaker Cat, Shakers, Sir Shakelton and Dammit Cat Stop It!

The story of our second cat is a bit less traumatic. Luanne Sugarbaker (long lost sister of Julia and Suzanne Sugarbaker - two other strays) spent a full two weeks sleeping day and night either in our yard or on our front porch. About a week into taking care of Shakes, we came home one Friday night to find Luanne on our porch. She let HUBS pet her and then let him pick her up. If you know anything about stray cats they DO NOT DO THIS. They are extremely wary of people, and for good reason.

I begged HUBS to put her down and not get any more attached. We already had two cats. Shakes was sick and needed to be kept away from Tux, meaning we had to lock him away in the bathroom and if we took in another sick pet (she pretty obviously had the same upper respiratory infection Shakes was battling) we'd have to lock her away in a totally separate location. Which would mean the basement. Which would mean Tux's litter box would have to go in the kitchen...Near the stove.

HUBS got his bearings and we walked into the house to put down our things. We turned around to close the door and little Luanne was in the house. Right behind us, in our living room. HUBS gave me a look that said Look! She's in the house! She wants us to love her! Pleeeeeeaaaassseee?! I gave in way quicker than I should have, but that's how we took in Luanne.

Now, her before and after:



Also known as Lou, Lady Big Paws and Oh My God You're So Weird

Oh Boy...

A desperate list I couldn't even finish.

In the past couple of months I've renewed my obsession with reading self-help books. This was something I used to do all the time from the early 2000s until about five years ago. I stopped for two reasons. One, almost all self-help books tend to say the same stuff in different ways. So, after you read about three of the things you're going to keep getting the same info over and over.

The second reason I stopped was my own odd tendency to feel like I'm accomplishing something when I'm actually procrastinating and hiding. What do I mean? I mean that reading self-help books has the same effect on me as entering contests online, somehow I feel a little like I'm earning money when I enter, even though I know that's a stupid feeling. When I read self-help books I feel like I'm working toward my goals, but in actuality I'm just reading a book and not really doing concrete work to fulfill my dreams.

I started up again because I was so depressed about working yet another job I loathed, but even more than the last one I hated. I felt I needed a little boost, and this has turned into me reading about six self-help books in four months.

Here's where the oh boy comes in. I've been reading a book called The Joy Diet. There's a part that tells you it's necessary to give yourself small treats for taking risks that will further your goals. The writer has you do an exercise where you list 10 things that make you smile, so you can use those things as treats.

Do you know what? After writing three things, I completely stalled. I started to think of all the stuff I like or even love: organizing the house, getting rid of things we don't need anymore, cooking, writing, photography, watching movies, reading fashion magazines and tearing out tips and photos, reading books, HUBS, the light at sunset, the light at sunrise, watching good tv...None of these things make me smile all the time. They make me feel good at least 90% of the time, but they don't make me actually smile.

It was months ago when HUBS told me I never smile anymore. I conceded that I'd been moody/angry a lot, but, Of course I smile!, I said. And now, trying to make this list, I see that he's likely very right. I absolutely love taking pictures and writing; why the fuck do they not make me smile? If nothing makes me smile, what does that mean? What have I become?

This is why HUBS so often knocks himself out doing goofy, ridiculous stuff in an effort to make my mouth turn up at the corners. I'm really not smiling anymore.

HUBS. I've become a huge drag. I'm sorry.

Things I Have No Interest In

Even though I feel, sometimes, helplessly confused about how exactly to get what I want out of life, I do believe most of my basic preferences are pretty much set. I think it's absolutely true that people just get more set in their ways as they age. And, as I get older, I realize some things just aren't for me.

1) Walking barefoot. I don't get it and never have. Isn't that how you get tapeworms...or something?

2) Politics. I've tried. I honestly have. But, aside from a passing interest that'll let me vote with some confidence, I'd rather not think about it.

3) Drinking. Now that my bar reviewing days appear to be over, I love not drinking alcohol when I go out if I don't want to. And for the past three weeks, I haven't wanted to.

4) Hostessing. I have never thrown a party as an adult. Or a get-together at my home. Hell, I've rarely even had company. 99% of my own family has never even seen my house. As much as I think life may be easier/more fun if I were all social like, I like it like that. I know my folks, most of them don't give a shit about their own stuff, much less anyone else's. Plus, I've seen people disrespect other's hard earned things dozens of times. I'd really hate to let a lot of folks (or a few even) into my house to have fun and see my place fucked beyond my liking. Really. Would. Hate.

5) Deadlines and repetition. I know, I know - an inevitable fact of life, especially for a creative, freelancing type like me. But, from college to the present day I've watched myself begin to hate things I love after being endlessly forced to do them repeatedly and according to someone else's schedule. It's stupid. Can I change it? Maybe not. Would life be easier if I could? Probably yes.

6) Swallowing pills. An issue from the time I was a little kid. Taking even the smallest pill floods my mind with visions of choking to death. I am nothing if not imaginative!

7) Reality tv. Sure, I flirted with The Real World 18 years ago when I was a high schooler who dreamt of life outside those hideous walls. Now, though, the endlessness of the stupidity is nothing but unbearably irritating and boring. Unless we're talking about So You Think You Can Dance? or America's Got Talent. I'm all over that shit every time.

8) Keeping friends. I have, at 35 years old, failed to make one deep, long-lasting friendship. Aside from HUBS, my closest friend lives 5 hours away and we barely communicate. Though when we do it's just like old times, which is good, at least. And I've recently reconnected with a high school/college/mid-20s friend since she found me on Facebook, but she lives in Boston now. I'd love to have a good friend right here to commiserate with, hang with and laugh with other than HUBS. I can't decide if I know too little or too much about myself to make that happen.

9) Being outgoing. Sure, I've had spurts here and there that always take a Herculean effort. I'm quiet. I'm a thinker. I'm a listener. I'm a seether. That's me.

10) Kids. Bully for you if you adore the little buggers and want to have loads of them. I can honestly say the idea of child birth/child rearing/child-being-around-all-the-time has never struck me as something I need to do. I don't hate kids or people who have kids. I simply don't feel the pull.

11) Not creating. Here I am writing a blog that only a few people read which makes me no money, and yet I do it anyway. I love to write without boundaries. I also love photography, music, art and the occasional random creative pursuit. I love making things, and make I shall continue to do.

What do you have no interest in?

A New Way To Do Things

A Little Thing

Something I've been working on this year is reading more books. I used to read all the time. My mom was a voracious reader when I was a kid. She loves Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Louis L'Amour. She would start reading a book after I left for school, stay up all night and be done with it by the time I left for school again the next day. And then, promptly start on another one. Plus, we're talking about sometimes huge books here, often upwards of 400 pages. Finished in 24 hours.

A few months ago I noticed how lacking my book-reading had become. In the past couple of years it had gotten to the point where it would take me several months to finish one little book. Most recently I finished When Washington was in Vogue over a period of two years. Two Years! That's just stupid.

I have a folder I started about 6 years ago with magazine clippings full of books I wanted to read. That doesn't even include all the books on my half.com list and the books in my library list. So, somewhere around January I realized I needed to get to work on all these books.

Reading makes me feel better, as evidenced by the fact that I've spent two days procrastinating by reading an insane amount of blogs. But, reading books in particular makes me feel really good. Smarter, even. I like being able to say "I'm reading The Joy Diet right now" instead of saying "I just finished the April issues of Lucky, Glamour, Essence and InStyle UK in one day!". Relaying magazine reading habits seems less...intellectual. You know?

To keep myself on point I've added a book shelf on the right side of my page, near the bottom. This little visual is already helping me track my accomplishments. Look at it! I've finished all those books just this year!

What are you reading now?

Weekend Report

Saturday, past about 9 am? Felt like I'd swallowed one of these.

Today is Tuesday. After a boring day at work that went by blissfully fast (I was in an area where I couldn't see the clock. That actually helped a lot.) I got called off for today, which means I'm currently at home.

So far I've done 4 loads of laundry and gone through over 500 neglected emails. Not bad for 4 hours of awakeness and doing-stuff.

I hope everyone had a good Easter. Mine was ok. HUBS and I took my mom out to his parents place for the annual Easter dinner. Mom had never been out there before because of taking care of my grandmother. I was a bit surprised she agreed to go and didn't back out. When I talked to her that morning, she sounded quite down. This is the first holiday without my grandmother and it's been almost a year to the day since my uncle died. She didn't say it, but I know that stuff was weighing on her.

Everything went fine, but my day was only ok for two reasons. First, I was a bit afraid to eat. Why? Because on Saturday, after taking almost the whole week off "sick", I really did get sick. Big sick. Doing-scary-things-in-the-bathroom-that-no-one-wants-to-think-about sick. I was trapped in there for about an hour. Unfortunately, the thing that seemed to irritate my stomach this time involved jalapenos. Just so you know, spicy in = 1,000 times spicier coming out. It took a full day for my throat to stop burning.

The second reason I wasn't that great was because I knew I'd have to go back to work Monday. I actually almost started crying during the car ride home.

Really? I'm going to try to stop complaining about my job in this space now. I've just realized I'm tired of it. That probably means you're getting tired of it, too. Of course, if anything completely outlandish happens you can totally expect me to tell you about it!

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On a completely different note, HUBS and I went to see Clash of the Titans Saturday after I recovered for a few hours. I found it exciting and enjoyable. We also walked around the mall a bit, which wore me out a lot more than I was expecting. We managed to finally get HUBS a new pair of glasses, something that's been on our list since January. Rectangularish, gray frames will be a new look for him. I'll submit a photo when he's all glassed up.

There's a Discovery

I've taken off work 4 of 5 days this week and you know what? I fucking loved it.

I wanted to finally get started on some big things I've got planned for myself, and the best way to do that was to pretend we don't need my fifty buck a day job for this week.

I already have no idea what I did with my Tuesday.

Wednesday was relatively un-productive. I listed some long-neglected items on ebay, took a three hour nap and then cried to HUBS and my mom about how things just are not the way I want them to be and how often I feel like I'll never have the life I really want (if I even really know what that is).

Thursday rocked ass. Making major headway on my list helped me feel like good things were possible. Even though, I found out this week that my only two paid writing jobs have dried up because both websites are "restructuring." I'm trying hard not to freak out about losing $450 in monthly income.

And then there was Friday. HUBS took the day off for Good Friday, we slept late, ate leftovers for lunch, watched soaps, played around online, got him an eye exam, shopped at Super WalMart and had our usual Festival of Trying Different Things after grocery shopping.

During my freak out on Wednesday I realized something. I hate waking up in the morning when I know I'm going to work. This is the same thing that happened at my last job. What I realized is that I don't want to not wake up just because of how I make my living. Also, I don't want to spend all day at work the way I've been spending it: wishing the day were over. One day my days will be over and that will be all. I don't want spend all my time wishing time would speed the fuck up. I want to be able to enjoy most of my day, even if I'm at work. I'm tired of work standing in the way of my life.

Well, this week was nice. Happy Easter, all! Here's hoping you have a great weekend.

Ick

Prettiest fungus ever.

I've been working pretty steadily for about 6 weeks now. Time at work=money for us. But it also seems to equal something else.

In those past 6 weeks I've gotten more rashes, zits that won't go away and funguses than ever before. You already knew I worked in a filthy warehouse, now my body knows it too.

I itch more than ever before and in strange places. Thigh and neck areas that don't even touch the filth. (Although, we worked with fiberglass a couple of weeks ago and I did manage to get some in my neck. Yay.) Also? Every skin issue I've ever had has re-occurred recently. That means that all at one fucking time I've been subjected to athletes foot, jock itch (Yes! So feminine and sexy!), and a yeast infection. And, I'm pretty sure the mole on my neck that's been the same small size for five years is actually growing.

I am now a living petri dish of awesome.

Ways To Free Myself From This Drudgery

A ray of light...From my brain.

During one of my breaks at work last week, on a particularly blah day, I wrote down all my ideas for getting out of my job and keeping future work experiences like this to an absolute minimum.

1) Send my book mock up to possible publishers. (I started writing a book last month. I haven't written much in the past couple of weeks, though. I hit a block and feel like I need to get a mock up together to recharge me. Plus, having that would help attract publishers...I hope.)

2) Funeral photography. (I know how this sounds, but I've photographed so many funerals in the past year that it's occurred to me there may actually be a market for this kind of, admittedly weird, service. An ad on Craigslist may be the thing to get this started.)

3) Screenplay ideas. (Ok, I've got a mostly finished screenplay that I've been working on since I took a beginning class in 2004. I'm truly embarrassed by how long it's taking me to just finish the thing. Although, I did enter it into a fairly high profile contest two years ago, and I was really proud of myself for that. Anyway, I've got about four other ideas floating around in my head that I'm committed to finally writing down and making notes on. So there, subconscious fear of failure/success.)

4) Script consulting. (I still mean to hang out a shingle for this. I took film classes in 2005 and 2006 where one of the things I studied was how to critique a screenplay. Getting my next idea up and running will help me get this one started.)

5) Movie review blog. (In 2006 I started writing film reviews for a website. I still do it, but it's never paid any money. I want it to start paying money. Period.)

6) More web writing. (I've got a few ideas for pieces that'll work for additional websites and the ones I already write for.)

I've taken the day off work today since yesterday was icky and irritating and I needed to get some things done. I fully plan to get to work on real things today, not just read blogs, nap and watch soaps all day.

So, here we go...

Ahhh...

Things are much better now. Thanks for being patient while I try not to let a feeling of impending doom overtake me.

I had some time off work last week and took my mom shopping on Wednesday. This was after her three day trip to Memphis and Brownsville, TN early last week. Her aunt and uncle (my grandmother's younger brother and sister) convinced her to go with them to visit family. She got a chance to see where my grandmother was born, since the land is still in the family. When she was asked to go the first thing she said was "But, I can't leave momma." Dammit, dammit, dammit that's sad. But she went. And I'm so glad she did.

Unfortunately, while we were shopping mom revealed that she was looking for something to wear to yet another funeral. This time for a guy she went to school with who had just come to my grandmother's funeral last month. He had a sudden, massive heart attack and that was it. You see why I'm fighting feelings of doom, over here?



On a lighter note, HUBS and I went to Chicago for a quickie trip the weekend before last. We only stayed one night. It was fun but, damn was weatherchannel.com ever wrong about the high temperature. They said 55 and it couldn't have been more than 35 degrees. We were totally not dressed for it! And, since we'd decided to go to the Shedd Aquarium and Navy Pier ($24 to park!!), which are both on the water, um...We almost froze to death. Especially because there were about 200 people in line ahead of us at Shedd. And we had to wait...OUTSIDE. IN THE RAIN. ALSO. Thank God Black-Lady-Paddington-Bear let us go in the accessible entrance. She cut our wait time of 2 hours down to 1/2 an hour.



It was a bit of an adventure, we had great pizza, watched bad cable tv, had free hotel breakfast and now...Now I'm really starved for a real vacation.



How have you been?

Never Ending

Guess what my mom and I did yesterday? We went to yet another funeral. This time it was for two of my aunts' mom (they are my mom's half sisters, so they had a different mother).

She died last Thursday. I'd never met her, but wanted to be there for my aunts and cousins, especially since these two aunts did way more to help my mom with my grandmother than the aunt and uncle who were her actual children. Those two did pretty close to nothing.

We went to Burger King afterwards. I felt bad for mom, yesterday it was three weeks to the day that my grandmother died. Going to another "mom funeral" made things really hard for her, but she felt, like me, that she had to go.

Can we please stop with the family deaths now? That makes seven in less than a year. So...Please?

Silence

Last flowers

I know I've been away for quite a while now, but a lot's been going on. My grandmother died on February 16 at 7:26 am. Maybe I'll write more about that later, maybe not. I was going to post a picture of her above and started crying, so it's possible I'm not as ok as I thought I was by now.

So, I'll be back to regular posting soon. For now, enjoy the photos here. Pictures are so much easier than words...

That Was A Mistake

Uggghhhhhh...

Last week I had nachos three times at three different restaurants. Now, I'm not a dietitian or nutritionist or anything, but I think that might not be good for me.

I made beef stroganoff for the first time ever last night. There was a recipe on the back of a pack of noodles I'd bought, and it seemed like a good meal for a cold, snowy, winter night. It was good, alright. So good that I ate way too much and made myself a little bit sick. I'm still full from last night's dinner, you guys. And it's after 4pm, now. All I've had today is one bowl of oatmeal and one cup of green tea. I realize I probably should have more food than that, but right now I just don't see how I can fit anything else in my bloated belly.

Last week was a bad food week. I did a lot of eating after 10pm, stuffing my face until way past full and eating large quantities of not-so-good things. I'm gonna blame my period and get back on track, starting TODAY.

When was the last time you ate something good, but then overdid it?

Thankful, Grateful, Good

On the days I work (not as often as I need to, unfortunately) I often have intense moments of fatigue or job-hatred. Last month I started combating this by concentrating on thoughts of the things I'm grateful for or appreciate in my life.

A brief list of those things:

A walk on a beach in South Carolina at dawn.

HUBS. Especially when he does silly, funny, nerdy, nice things.

A long, hot bath filled with bubbles where I read lots of magazines and shrivel up nicely.

Healthy cats. Inside and outside the house.

A good meal, home-cooked or not.

Dessert.

Naps.

Magic hour (am and pm).

Doing what I need to do when I need to do it.

Surprise money.

Laughing.

My own creativity.

Inspiration.

Good new things.

Meditation.

Pink, purple, sequins and glitter!

What's good in your life right now?

What Just Happened?

You don't want a photo of what this post is actually about. Really...

So, I was at work today. Doing my thing, everything was going fine. Then, I looked down at the table I was working at. I saw a small black oval surrounded by what looked like a water stain. Using a calculator, I moved it further back on the table. It rolled. Then I used a small box I'd never have to pick up to see if it was...well, soft. It was.

God Dammit. I knew the warehouse I worked in wasn't the fucking cleanest place on earth. I mean, there's a roach trap on the kitchen counter, after all. But this... Looks like a turd. Rolls like a turd. Smashes like a turd. Shit, y'all. I found a TURD on the table at work!

Granted, finding one is better than finding many. And finding small animal (or large insect) droppings is better than finding the human variety. But this? Totally uncalled for. I felt hot, dizzy and sick to my stomach for the rest of the work day.

Fucking turd...

The Strangest Things

X marks the spot, all right.

Last Thursday I had another in a life-long line of odd things happen to me.

I'd been wearing a Band-Aid on my finger to protect a dry, raw spot from all the paper I flip through at work. I was getting ready in the morning, and, by the time I was putting on my gloves, noticed that it had fallen off. Not a big deal, I figured I'd find it later.

So, about 8 pm that night I head to the bathroom before eating dinner. What do you think I found in my underwear? Yeah, that's right internet. My Band-Aid. But, that's not even the weird part. It wasn't just hanging out in there all day, nonononono. IT WAS STUCK TO MY PERSONAL LADY HAIRS. ALL DAY. You read that correctly. I had to cut a Band-Aid out of my...area.

This is the type of thing that could only happen to the girl who had a bird shit into her non-convertible car while she was going 65 mph on the high way (my passenger side window was rolled down about an inch...No, I'm not kidding. Really did happen...).

Stress

I feel your pain, Zebra. I feel your pain...

First off let me report that I'm working again. The warehouse called me back almost two weeks ago and then made me a permanent temp (meaning no more getting called off when they run out of work, I go in every day.) So, for the meantime HUBS and I have some hope of financial survival.

For the past two years (yes, it's been a full TWO YEARS since I left my job in the hopes of finding my true work) living without a second steady income in the house has been exceptionally difficult. There's been depression, anger, massive anger, sadness, extreme sadness, hopelessness and every other negative emotion you can imagine.

Mostly, though, there's just been stress. Stress for me. Stress for HUBS. Stress for the air around us at any given moment. They say stress can cause physical symptoms and after two years of dealing with high levels of it, I completely believe it.

In these past two years I've:

1) Had a significant portion of my hair fall out.
2) Suffered extremely disturbing nightmares on an almost nightly basis.
3) Gotten the flu even though I rarely leave the house.
4) Gotten food poisoning three times, when I had previously only had it four times in the past 33 years.
5) Had chest pains that went away as soon as I got called back to the warehouse.
6) Had liver problems.
7) Been diagnosed with a skin condition I'd never heard of but my dermatologist says is quite common, pityriasis rosea, which causes dry, dark, itchy blotches over large areas of the torso (yes, it's as sexy as it sounds).
8) Suffered through a period in 2008 with a weeping wound in a very personal area that was caused by God-only-knows-what (again, so, so sexy).
9) Had several bouts of severe lower back pain.
10)Had random stomach pains.
11)Gotten bloody noses because of dried up nostrils/sinuses.
12)Gotten more chin hairs that required yanking (I know this is more likely due to aging, but at this point how is stress not a good thing to blame?)
13)Lost most interest in sex.
14)Spent a period of two weeks where I woke up from a good night's sleep crying every. single. morning.
15)Stomach problems that led to bathroom problems which led to lots of plunging and me deciding to buy stock in whoever makes Quilted Northern to possibly get some of my money back.

I may have even forgotten some stuff, but this is a pretty complete list that takes us up to now. Since the new year I've been meditating, deep breathing and trying to concentrate on the basis of what I want for me and HUBS: for us to be healthy, wealthy and happy. It's actually helping me deal with the stress of having another job I dislike to make money and dig us out of our unemployment-caused financial hole. I actually feel happier and less freaked out.

And I'm looking for better paying work (I only get $7.50 an hour at the warehouse). I interviewed last week for a receptionist job at a radio station. That'll pay lots more and I won't have to stand all day. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

What has extreme stress caused in you before?

Update: I totally forgot about October's athlete's foot travesty. Holy Jesus, y'all! I would literally wake up in the middle of the night because my feet itched so bad. God, I'm glad that's over.

Unexpected Things...Sometimes Nice

The day after Christmas HUBS and I found ourselves at Borders late at night after a long day of travel to his folks place and back. I was wandering around when I came upon a rack of books modeled after the old pulp novels from back in the day.

I picked up a book called, I kid you not, Pardon My Body, and flipped through it. This anonymous note was wedged into the pages. Nice. It kinda made my evening.

Inspiration

I know we're in the grips of bitter, winter weather right now (St. Louis got up to 7 inches of snow last night and there were wind gusts of up to 40mph Thursday) but this picture seems hopeful to me. Anyhoo...when I'm in the dumps, suffering from severe ennui or just plain depressed, I sometimes need a pick-me-up.

There are lots of things that work for this: eating salty foods, eating sweets, sleeping, watching soap operas (my life will never be that messy) or drowning my sorrows in a good fashion mag (hello, Lucky). But, really, my favorite way to feel better is to read a good quote. I've got two quote books, but I find them all the time, in magazines, movies, tv shows and online. So I've got scraps of paper all over the place with helpful sayings on them.

Here, for you, are some of my favorites.




There, have a good weekend.

Internet Anonymity Strikes Again

A few weeks ago I asked for advice. A guy named Neal, who's never commented on my blog before, popped up with some choice words for me. I tried to find out a little bit about Neal, but his profile is private so who knows what the dude is all about. But, he does not seem to like me.

Anyway, he's now commented twice on my blog and I think he's way off about a lot of stuff. You can read his words after this post and this one, but below I've highlighted (in italics) some of the things he said and why I think he's wrong. Let's go.

That precious image you've carried of yourself all these many years, the gay, fun-loving life, the social whirl, being admired for your accomplishments, being the center of attention, having it all revolve around you . . . And now confronted by the reality of being 35 and it ain't nothin' like that.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Neal, you obviously don't know as much about me as you think you do. I have absolutely never been a part of any social whirl or the center of attention to anyone but my mom when I was a kid. Nothing has ever "revolved around" me and I've never been anything, admittedly, but slightly above average in most respects. I've always been firmly sure of my reality in this world, which doesn't mean I can't change it. We're not working with a caste system here.

Nope, sorry, not true. That's the fourteen-year-old speaking, the child who's convinced the world revolves around her dreams.

So, because I have dreams that makes me a child? God, you're pretentious. Congratulations on apparently not having any hopes or goals for your own life, Neal. Too bad the rest of us can't be as mature as you and not want anything. If I thought the world revolved around my dreams I'd be in relentless, bloody, damn-everyone-else pursuit of them every minute of everyday. Is anyone with the desire to move beyond their current station in life a mindless child, too? I guess all the homeless people should just give up now, huh?

You're certainly not "the ultimate Jill of All Trades," so maybe you should stop saying that to yourself.

Guess what? You don't get to tell me, or anyone else, how to define themselves. I may not be famous, but I'm a fucking good writer and photographer and I do get paid for it. I'm also a painter, chef, baker, driver, listener, joke teller, collage artist and expert maker of bathing paraphernalia. Dispute all those if you wish, but you don't know me, so you can't.

Remember when you were wide-eyed and fresh and 21? You should have married a doctor, or maybe Sergi Brin or some other dork destined to be a billionaire. A little late for that, now, huh?

I don't even know what you mean here. I shouldn't have gone to college? I shouldn't attempt to do fun, interesting, enjoyable things with my life? I should have married young, spit out a bunch of kids and lived off someone else for my whole life? How dare you suggest that that's the end all be all of what I'm good for. Again, you don't know me.

I notice that when I got a job you didn't comment on that post. I guess there was too much honest joy in that one for you. By the way, I had been looking for literally any job I could get for several months by the time you suggested it. I'd applied at every store in the mall, Borders, WalMart, Best Buy and Target among others. I knew I needed any gig that would bring in any extra money. I'm not an idiot.

You also mentioned that I was "self-centered". Who else should I be centered on when I write this blog? There's no indication anywhere on the page that it's going to be about politics, global warming, world hunger, world peace, celebrity meltdowns or how everyone can analyze their handwriting. This blog is essentially my diary. Sorry, but that means it's about me and the people in my immediate circle.

This space is for me to look at what I do, don't do, think, don't think and the reasons behind it all. And, who else is going to have my best interest at heart 100% of the time no matter when or where I am? Me. Basically, my blog my rules. If you don't like my introspection feel free to leave my house.