My sister and I went down to O'Sullivan's Pub on Thursday night for a pint and bonding time. And of course to celebrate me passing a test for a job promotion; next up is the interview. While there, she was kind enough to purchase a raffle ticket for me.
The raffle was held on Saturday but I left before they called out the winners. The pub is closed on Sunday's so I assumed since I didn't get a call Saturday I didn't win. Turns out I won the second top prize, pretty cool huh. I don't drink PBR but a mini-fridge is rad to own if you have an office with no means to keep your lunch from spoiling or you live with roommates. My sister will get some good use out of this fridge either at home or in her office.
Thanks for the raffle ticket Sylvia.
And thanks for the mini-fridge O'Sullivan's.
Literally, I am kinda grinchy and I really did steal Christmas. Due to my profession, I have not worked a Christmas in, well, geez.... I never have worked a Christmas, ever. I grew up in a JW household; now, now, no need to feel sorry for me. I am really not too big on Christmas like those folks who want to keep Christ in Christmas. I am also not big on the feeling of obligation that come with a commercialized Christmas. I don't want to have to get a gift for someone because it is expected. If I gift it's because I feel like it. Also, when I ask not to be gifted, I end up gifted. Which is so lame cause half the time it's oddball stuff that I would never use. Point being is I would rather have Christmas to do as I wish with my paid time off... not attend obligatory events.
Diabetes sucks, runs in the family but from what I gather it can happen to anyone if they let their weight climb above what is normal. Let me clarify, I am talking Type 2 Diabetes. My grandmother lived a long life for someone who had Type 2. Though, she did succumb to complications of diabetes (coupled with the incompetence of the hospital she was at). My grandmother ended up in an out of the hospital for about two weeks before they finally amputated her leg. Her old, frail body just didn't bounce back so well after the surgery and she passed away.
I don't want to go out suffering like that and I don't want any other relatives to suffer the same fate. My mom and sister are right on the border edge of Type 2 if they don't watch their diet and health; they will end up with diabetes. But my uncle who is more like a brother than an uncle has had Type 2 for some time now. Though it's sad to say, I have always known in the back of my mind he would probably be the first to go out of my grandmother's children from natural causes. Diabetes is a bitch and you gotta stay on top of your diet and medications to control it.
My mom is new to the world of cell phones. When she first got her phone she would text me asking what commonly used acronyms meant. Turns out my brother was communicating with her using some complex language she didn't understand. So she used her daughters to break the codes for her: lol, wtf, ttyl and other commonly used acronyms used in texts, emails and even *gasp* when people are talking. Yeah, I know, it bothers me too when people say 'lol' instead of just laughing. I don't get it either.
No not that one either. Though maybe a bit closer to the truth than the former firestarter.
There are events or people that remind me of times gone by. Old times, maybe not good times, maybe angst encumbered teen times? I am not a fire bug. I have a healthy respect for fire and I don't wanna go burning down California. I hear you end up in deep doody for lighting fires for shits 'n' giggles 'round these parts. Plus I love trees!
This is a continuation to part 1, I have been on holiday and busy with life so I am a tad behind. Not to fear, Hawaii story time will be on it's way soon enough. At one point I even took Andy with me to have
breakfast and just chat. I tried to explain things that are important
to me. I tried to find out what is important to him and how we can
function more smoothly as a family unit. I think I bored him to death
but at least he enjoyed his pancakes that were drowned in syrup. Maybe
the breakfast and chat was more for me but I am hoping he listened not
just heard some of what I had to say. I am also trying to be receptive
to what he has to say but it's so hard when he is obviously lying. He
isn't very good at lying either, he should just give up and come clean
about stuff. During our breakfast I asked him if he wanted to carve
pumpkins for Halloween. Guess what he said, go on, guess.....
Andy did not want to do basketball. But since we had given him the choice to choose a sport and he didn't make a choice, we did. And we told him that after this season if he still hated it he wouldn't have to do it again and could choose a different sport. He reluctantly agreed to continue forth with basketball through the Boys and Girls Club.
The first meeting we attended actually took less time than actually getting there. And I was okay with that, however the notice for the meeting specifically stated: Your student will not receive their jersey if the meeting is missed. They didn't hand out any jersey's and the meeting basically was a quick review of the paperwork I already had. Basically it was a meeting for a man to read the rules off of a piece of paper we already had from when we signed up for basketball. Then he directed everyone to pick up a copy of the rules which we already had gotten during sign-ups. They didn't even give us a schedule for when games or practices would start, we were told we would be contacted.
I pretty much know that enrichment is a good thing to have in life, not just as a child but also as an adult. And when this little Andy person came to my house he was very lacking in enrichment. His social, emotional, academic and emotional growth has been stunted by his previous living situations. My little brother has a bit of a chip on his shoulder because my mom never signed him up for sports. Granted my mom couldn't afford them financially. She also could not afford the time required for the free, school related sports my brother was so interested in. As a result my brother has his boys signed up for a sport during the different sport seasons through out the year. Enrichment. I don't want to have to help invest my time to provide enrichment but then again I want to help Andy grow into a better adult than if he would have stayed with the mother. (I still, very much, want to maul her face off and feed it to rabid monkeys.)
Sunday I took my little sister down to Los Angeles for some fitness thing again. Last time I drove down I ended up spending the day in Costa Mesa/Anaheim. This time I decided to park and just walk, I have been in need of alone time. Alone in a city of how many?! Shaddup! Though the shots below don't show it I inadvertently was there during some Rock and Roll half marathon. So many people! Also last time I didn't have to suffer an olfactory onslaught of toxic fumes and urine. Thank you Los Angeles for the fond memories you always provide.
So I ended up in Little Tokyo for several hours. I took the time to walk around and soak in the sites and food. I honestly had several meals Sunday. I had 2 breakfasts, 2 lunches and 1 dinner. No beer this time but plenty of food. I was walking all day in heels and I ran a 5k on Saturday, my logic is flawless; I was starving! I'm not fat, I'm big boned. Though I was in Los Angeles on a day of a half marathon, I somehow was lucky enough to find myself very alone. In none of my shots were there any humans aside from one. I will explain that one when I get to it. When I got to Little Tokyo my plan was to park on 2nd street but the half marathon road blocks had other ideas. I ended up parking under the Weller Court Shopping Center, which I didn't realize at the time. When I emerged from the parking structure I was greeted by the Ellison Onizuka Monument. It was actually the one thing I really wanted to see while strolling around Little Tokyo. The Challenger accident is one of those memories I still hold vividly in my mind. Or as vivid as the memory of a 5 year old can be. I had all the books on space and loved reading about Buzz and Neil. I cried watching the news that day.
"Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair." - Gunnery Sergeant Hartman
I looked back in my posts to see if I had written the story of how my father gave me away as an infant. But I couldn't find the story. Suffice to say when I was a baby my father, who was kind enough to pass on his legacy of lunacy sprinkled evenly among his fine children, gave me away to my grandmother. Story goes, my father threatened to steal me away to Mexico but my mom wouldn't have it. And then the details are a little blurry. My mother stayed with my father and agreed to give me up to live with my grandmother. Something about a suicide threat from my father bla, bla, bla. My grandmother's youngest child at the time was just about to graduate high school. So she was young enough to take on a baby in the house. With the help of my aunt and uncles I was raised in my grandmother's house.
In my about I talk about my gramps suffering from Michael J. Fox disease with a little extra dose of Alzheimer's. My aunt ended up having to quit her job to help care for me and my grandfather whose health deteriorated at a rapid rate. When my aunt stopped working she pretty much became my, "Sir! Yes, sir!" or as I affectionately called her, "Mommy-tia." She was hard on me because I needed to learn. She was hard on me because I was difficult. She was hard on me because I had to grow up and function as a normal member of society. Though now I thank her stern, rigid way of disciplining me. I also know that some of my hang-ups and hiccups in personality probably stem from abandonment issues and authoritarian parenting by my guardian. Pile some of that on top of some of the traits my dad left behind, which if diagnosed would land him in a category close to my own. If not the same category I was diagnosed as when I was still too young and angry to make use of my therapy.
If the last episode of Reluctant Motherhood wasn't enough to make me
want to run for the hills screaming, it's gotten even better. Or is it worse? We got a
phone call from Child Welfare Services because we have been reported for
domestic violence and drug abuse. The only abuse going on is my poor,
frail mind having to assist in rearing a child that is not mine and not
right. Maybe CWS can take me away. Whoever reported these lies is more
than welcome to take Andy home and tell me if they survive, sanity in
tact, after 2 weeks. No, even one week with him.
So the day we got the call advising us to come down and answer some questions at the CWS office, they had already interviewed Andy at school. And at first I was worried about having CWS poking about our business. And then I got curious as to who would possibly make such wild allegations! And then it was mild amusement that some busy body had nothing better to do than make up stories about two people trying their best to raise a mini-tyrant. Bring it, we have nothing to hide and are not doing a damn thing wrong. Investigate away!
I forgot all about lice. I vaguely remember getting them in 3rd grade when an infested child in my class was caught throwing her lice at other kids. Or at least that's the story my mom likes to tell, who knows. Maybe there was a disgusting filthy in my class throwing her parasites on other kids. I also recall that most kids who became infested suddenly returned to school with blunt bobs for the girls and shaved heads for the boys. I wasn't so lucky. I had long hair, mid way between waist and shoulders. I didn't get a cute bob, I ended up covered in Rid and spent the better part of a day having the lice comb rip enough hair out of my head I could have made my own Furby. I need to stop thinking about it, I wonder if that is why I took the scissors to my own hair and kept it short until about now.
My aunt told me a long time ago, when I was very young, "You don't need friends. Friends are good for nothing." I only assume she had friends that may have hurt her. So to safe guard me from pain she would just teach me to avoid it all together. Well, as a typical child would do, I ignored her teachings. With good reason, I mean I do have a handful of friends I care for. And I guess they may care for me too, but it's all subjective I suppose.
Recently an old friend of mine just moved back from being out of the country. I thought it would be a fun idea to meet up and talk about travels from afar, catch up on life. I had planned my afternoon around meeting up with her. I talked to the hubs that I would be coming home late because I wanted to meet up with my friend to grab a bite to eat. I didn't feel like having her come to my house where Andy would be a constant interruption, hell she hasn't even heard the insta-mom news yet. And then I get the message that I have gotten before, "My girlfriend said no." This has happened before, with more than just one person. I just bid my friend a good day and said it's cool; even though I feel a twinge of pain in my chest, my eyes burn and my face feels unusually warm.
I was a lazy shit this week. I didn't run since last week, not once, until today. My sister, who doesn't run, decided to come run along with me. She had her best mile time in, well, since ever! I had a nice shower and said my goodbyes to my mister and his son. Went on my way to a Pampered Chef Party... I promised I would. So off I went to have my shower; so my sister could take me with, to her house and then have her shower too. The plan was we could go to the party from her house after her shower.
I waited at her house while I had a nice long chat with her room mate. This is her first year teaching and she has a bit of a tough student. Andy's teacher is also in her first year, having a tough student being none other than Andy. After my sister had her shower we headed over to the glorified Tupperware Party. By this time (11.30) I was famished. A 5k run, only a smoothy in my belly; I was looking forward to the snacks these parties provide. I was considering what to pile onto my second cake-slice sized plate of food when I heard my phone ring.
There was a brief time in my adulthood that I had sworn off chocolate. No, not for health reasons. I no longer found the taste appealing. People would marvel at the fact that I didn't like chocolate. I would hear, "What woman in her right mind does not like chocolate?" A little bit of a sexist comment but that rant is for another post, another time. I finally had figured out what was wrong with me. What was wrong was my taste buds had matured. I no longer enjoyed chocolate that was of poor quality, stuff I had as a kid. So my question now is, "What person in their right mind would like chocolate of poor quality?" Turns out I do like chocolate, very much so. I like it to be high quality and I don't over eat it. I enjoy a small chocolate a small nibble at a time. I enjoy the chocolate for it's texture, taste and even how quickly it melts in my mouth. While in Germany I grew quite fond of their chocolate and we thought the Chocolate Museum would be a great place to visit. **Hint: check hotel/hostel lobbies for a buy one get one coupon for admission.**
Yesterday I got a phone call from my vets office. They called to say that Dr. Martinucci is closing up shop and transferring his client files to Evergreen Animal Clinic. If my primary care physician closed up shop I wouldn't have been so upset. To me a doctor is a doctor; I go, they do their job and I am done. With a vet, it's a bit different. At least in my eyes it's different. I have used Dr. Martinucci as my veterinarian for over 10 years. It pains me to have to take my dogs to a new vet. The mister says that Evergreen saved his dog's life once upon a time. He feels that my babies records being transferred to Evergreen is the best choice.
Digging up more pictures from my trip to Germany last year (2012). I am hoping to get these all posted before I head out to Hawaii in November. Who knows if I will accomplish that. Fair warning, while in Wiesbaden my camera malfunctioned and I thought I fixed it. Then it malfunctioned again so the pictures taken in Köln may be slightly fuzzy and shitty looking. At least my memory serves me properly. Properly enough to remind me of a funny story that happened to my slightly beer buzzed brain in Köln.
So last night during dinner, Andy told me I should pack my suitcase and move out. Maybe he was joking, maybe he wasn't. I can never tell with the kid because to him everything is a big joke. Jokes on me! Yay. Earlier that day I advised the mister to have a chat with Andy because he was being wasteful, again. I had already discussed proper use of toilet paper and not to be wasteful with it. But he didn't listen and has been using toilet paper to wipe down the foggy mirrors after his shower. The discussion I had asked the mister to have had slipped my mind and his. So the discussion was not had before Andy had his shower last night. I went to bed early so I could have a nice early morning run.
***Warning: Do not keep reading if you don't want to hear about tampons and periods.***
She said: "Introspection and Action The first is easy the second comes hard to most. And far too easy for some. Easy like a snake sloughing off it's old skin to let the new one shine. Leaving the old shell behind gets harder with age/time. Connections have become fewer and slightly harder to make. People get comfortable in their niche. Ignorance is bliss, which is why most people turn a blind eye to the inside. And the fear of change keeps that blind eye shut."
To which he responded: "Introspection without action is fine as well. Now, if we come to the same conclusions over and over, decide a change must be made, and then promptly uncork a bottle of wine..."
I know I have mentioned having a Chinese exchange student. He is now back in China, going to middle school. You also heard some of the horror stories involving shitty shifty phone companies and my step-son taking things without asking. This is actually the flip side; good stuff that we did while he was here.
Back home in China he is an only child without pets. He warmed up to my little doggies pretty fast. And for as much as my dogs hate kids, they warmed up to him too. I laughed when I heard him say to the dogs for yapping, "Oh, you crazy! Be quiet. I think maybe you are crazy from Andy." I laughed so hard, he finally started to catch our sense of humor and tried to make a joke too.
There are probably other sites but I stopped paying attention. I have tried other browsers and other computers. So just shy of getting a Wordpress account for the purposes of commenting, I think I will just have to deal with it. Kinda sucks. So if any other Blogger user has had problems and you were automagically able to fix it, let me know what you did. Otherwise, I will have to think about getting a Wordpress so I can comment on other blogs which really blows.
Maybe it's really me and my email address is just blocked because I am far too opinionated. Nah, that couldn't be it at all.
Edit: As Cameron had mentioned, it may be due to xanax being in my web address. I confirmed it this morning on Gaijinwife's blog. DAMN YOU WORDPRESS!
Seeing as I will be driving down again to Costa Mesa this Thursday, I figured I better make my beer post about the last time I drove down. I got in touch with hardkoretom who suggested Noble Ale Works. I decided to give it a try and take another opportunity to chat with a fellow blogger after a day of relaxing and then shopping. I got there before he did and settled in to decide on what I would fancy for my first visit.
Recently a title suggestion for my blog made me chuckle, "Domestic Adventures of a Reluctant Stepmom". Except it feels more like misadventurous adventures than anything else. Reluctant yes, very, if I had a crystal ball that let me peer into the now about two months ago when the bomb was dropped. Would I have high-tailed it to the hills of Rome? Or would I be experiencing these misadventures still?
Usually when you think it's too good to be true, it is. And in this case it really was too good to be true. Though there was still that little silver lining that made the phone/phone service acceptable. Or at least acceptable for my foreign exchange student.
Just a little back story, I have hosted 11 exchange students from different countries. During that time only one owned a cell phone that they used here because he was a long term student. He used it to keep in contact with his friends he made here and on rare, RARE, occasion contact the mother-ship. Another student who was short term had a mini breakdown or culture shock or something. The girl broke down crying about day 6 and insisted on calling home. I think the tears and look of desperation caused me to break down and put international calling on my cell plan. NOT CHEAP! This was about 6 years ago, maybe things are different now. I also kinda broke the rules as we are not supposed to have the kids contact the mother-ship. But ya know what... 13 year old kid half way around the world, scared and homesick. I broke the rules. Whatever!
After bath time our floor was ending up completely soaked. So we warned Andy not to make a wet mess of the bathroom or he wouldn't be able to have baths; only showers. That night the shower ended up a soapy wet mess again, so we decided showers, until he can behave in the tub. I still had yet to figure out how, if he was showering, the bathroom was ending up just as wet as when he had a bath. The other night I was walking by the bathroom and I heard the shower running and saw the light from under the door flick off and on several times. I had my hubs come ask him what he was doing. He claimed he was showering still. Apparently the floor was getting soaked because he would run to play with the light switch several times while taking his shower. Why he
runs between the light switch and the bathtub when he showers to flick
the lights off and on a few times is beyond me. Now we know how the bathroom ends up
completely wet at least. Issue has been addressed and the aftermath of
bath time is much drier thankfully. I don't even ask to know why anymore.
A few weeks ago Rounderwear contacted me to ask if I would be so kind as to review a pair of their Rounderbum panties. Given that I am an honest person and they were offering a free pair, I figured, what do I have to lose? Right? No there will be no pictures of my butt in this post. As you will find out as you read on the underwears were not very flattering AND they kinda resembled granny panties. Sorry panty pervs, no Susie butts in this episode.
I am also quite thankful he came with a sense of humor.
And I am now starting to understand that the logic of a child's mind has been so far removed from me as an adult it is somewhat refreshing. Sometimes my uncle will tell my husband about what I was like when I was younger. I remember and laugh at how awesome/ridiculous I used to be.
So now that the blind rage has subsided, I will have to agree with one of the comments on my previous post; it all boils down to the parents. Parents are the ones who are responsible for feeding their children healthy and nutritious meals. And before anyone that may pop by and reads decides to give me an earful for getting pissy over government aide: my mom was a recipient of AFDC and Foodstamps when I was a young little whipper snapper. Just so you all know, I am not sitting high on my affluent soapbox talking down to the poor. I know poor and I never want to be there again. I work hard so I don't find myself having to ask the public for help.
So it's now be over a week as step-mother to a 9 year-old boy. Upon his arrival, armed with McNuggets, he voiced his love for them. The following day, he microwaved what he had left of said McNasties and ate them. For lunch that day he had instant ramen noodles with a slice of processed cheese. He said he loved the stuff! We took a trip to the grocery store which I managed to somehow survive without breaking a glass bottle of wine open and drowning my face in it. While heading home I asked Andy, the step-kid, "What's your favorite food?" And he quickly replied, "7-11."
Did I ever tell the story of when I was strangled?
No, not to death. Obviously!
No, it wasn't some sex thing.
Once upon a time I was at a rave (okay often I went to raves). For the most part I will have to attest that sometimes things don't go too well or all too often end up forgotten due to a drug induced haze. Oh but I remember, I remember it was Nocturnal Wonderland in Downtown LA. (Lineup if you are interested in that sort of thing.)As you can guess by the title it was Wonderland themed/inspired, it had been a few years since I had attended Nocturnal Wonderland and this time I thought I would go as Alice.
Did life happen and I started posting about other stuff before finishing Germany posts?Yep.
Though these are from last year, revisiting Germany in photographs makes me long for another visit to Germany. Or maybe I am just suffering from cabin fever and need to go some place that is NOT California? Isn't it funny how so many people, both US and foreign, wish to visit California? Here I am longing for some place else. Variety and change is the spice of life, no?
Here are are few of the highlights from our visit to Wiesbaden. It was gloomy and rained frequently so I was limited on what I could capture. Plus my camera problems didn't help.
Once upon a time, before my skateboard was stolen and before parts of me began to ache from abuse, I took a little skate trip up to San Francisco. During that trip, I did a bit of sightseeing. Or as I think of it now, time to take a break from skating but not do nothing. One fine morning in August my sister, a friend and I found ourselves near Golden Gate Park. Inside of Golden Gate Park there is much to do, on this weary morning we opted to check out the Japanese Tea Garden. Excuse the quality of the photos, it was like a million years ago.
"Half black, half Samoan, used to call him Tony Rocky Horror." - Jules
Long story short Tony Rocky Horror got pushed out of the window of a 4-story building. For giving another man's wife a foot massage, supposedly.
Is it me or does that foot look a little on the large side?
A co-worker casually mentioned that he wouldn't want to have anyone other than his wife give him a massage. How the conversation came up I don't recall. But it made me think about my own situation. I have been in the mood for a massage. I know I can ask the mister for one but I want one from someone else. Not anyone in specific, but the little Asian place at the mall looks to be promising. I am in need of a good deep tissue massage and a foot massage for good measure.
Now here is my thought, would my Marcellus be upset if another man gave his wife a massage? Or does the sex of the masseuse not matter? Would it be okay with my Marcellus if the masseuse was a woman (with very strong hands)? Being technically still a newlywed since we have yet to hit the 7-year itch(doubtful of this happening but marriage/divorce rates seem to prove otherwise)... I am assuming neither would be a problem. No need for suspicions to be raised about happy endings and such. Plus, he isn't a jealous guy over trivial things like massages. Or are all guys territorial when it comes to things like massages. See, here I am second guessing my assumption because I for one am not a guy. Two, I wouldn't care if he got a massage without a happy ending of course.
So instead of assuming and entering into a common reason for marital quarrel: non-communication; I need to ask. And what would be the most diplomatic way of asking?
"I want a massage, but not from you. Is that okay?" Hmm probably not the best way to ask. They should have offered a class in tact when I went to school, I need it.
All of the stress of moving, packing, paying deposits and switching utilities... I need a massage from a professional (or the Asians at the mall). I am thinking maybe suggest a couples massage, we both go get our kinks worked out together. [All you get your head out of the gutter! I mean tension kinks not sexual kinks. Oh for fucks sake it all sounds dirty with the word kink involved.] Maybe I just need to douse the liver in a bottle of wine and be done with my need for a massage. Seriously though, my neck and shoulders are so tight it's making sleep and swimming annoying.
I guess my other alternative is to see the chiropractor and make sure that I get a massage after being adjusted. And going to get a pedicure but make sure they spend extra time on the massage part of the pedicure. Diplomacy; not my strong suit.
If you have money to burn by all means do so. If you have a hobby you like to sink money into, do it! It's good to have a hobby. Some people save up their extra money and take a vacation. I do both, I use spare cash on hobbies and vacationing. It's fun money, I use it on something fun... something other than bills that have to get paid.
The last time I was in Costa Mesa I didn't even know about the Noguchi Garden. It wasn't until after I headed home from a wedding that I realized I was within walking distance of it. And when a fellow blogger posted photos from his visit there, I knew I had missed out.
In numerical order: Forest Walk, Spirit of the Lima Bean, Water Use, Desert Land, Water Source, Land Use and Energy Fountain.
It's not often that I get into girly froo-froo stuff, let alone review it. A few weeks ago my sister gave me some nail art strips to try out (her husband sells Avon). She wanted to know how I liked them and if they were any good.
Over a nice dinner with the in-laws (sister and pop) school grades were discussed. My sis in-laws daughter scored "4 and 5's", which I assumed to be good. I asked what's with the number scale? They don't grade A, B, C, D, F with a sprinkling of + and - in the mix? No, now they are graded 1,2,3,4,5.
A bottle of wine deep and two-thirds of the bathroom cleaned when Murphy comes a knockin' at my door. I thought I would spend my Friday night at home packing crap and cleaning house. I got tired of packing crap so I figured I would make the bathroom nice. A nice uneventful evening at home cleaning, packing and drinking wine right?
No, not right.
The fucking shower knob thingamajigger broke. It's not the first time... the first time it was age that made the plastic part inside break. This time it's cheap plastic (replaced by even cheaper property management) that caused the problem. You turn the knob but the plastic part inside is not grabbing the inner bits that cause the water to come out. I can actually see the plastic innards have snapped apart.
Mine is not a Moen, it has no brand.
So here I am at 21:30, in my house garb, sweaty and hands smelling of bathroom cleansers with a broken shower.
I call the maintenance hot-line, which I can tell is located somewhere in The South. If I know anything, I know that maintenance here works at the speed of a one-legged man who broke his one leg. I spent the day working and then attending high school graduation out on this unusually warm, sunny day. THEN I went home to slave some more. I wanted a damn shower.
Then I call my gym, I never go at night. They close at 11 on Fridays so I have time to get over there and wash up. Then the brilliant idea hits me, I should have a little run/brisk walk while I am there. I have time for a little exercise before my shower.
So now I am clean with a broken shower. I have an empty bottle of wine that I feel none of the effects of having imbibed. It's now approaching midnight, should I pop open the soju?
It's probably best I do not since I am supposed to help a friend move to his new place first thing in the morning. -_-
I probably shouldn't have gone down to 7-11 for a French Vanilla Cappuccino either. I hope tonight isn't a sign of how 'smooth' my weekend will go.
I say may-oh-naze but the husband calls it man-aze which sounds like man-aids to me. So forever when we run out of mayo... I laugh. Then ask my husband why on Earth he would want "man aids", eeew! It's a running joke in my house that will probably never get old. We are both California-born and raised, where does the slight difference in our pronunciation come from?
But the driver of the car was wearing a derp face, glasses without lenses and a knitted hat.
'Yeah, you driving in the car with the headlights off, get over yourself and pay attention!'
After doing my sister's nails last night she was driving me to meet the mister at the gas station. On our way there, a vehicle was driving behind us with it's headlights off. So in an effort to annoy the driver into flashing their high-beams and realizing their lights weren't even on; sis was driving 10 mph under the speed limit. You would think in California, land of the impatient driver (famous for the California Roll), the person behind us would have become impatient and flashed us. Nope.
Too cool for school hipster woman was too busy, probably high as fuck, probably talking about how cute guys are with Paul Bunyan beards and flannels with her equally oblivious gal pal. By now there is a third car on the road. Hipster mobile was between our truck and another car. There were two guys in the other car trying to get the girl's attention about their lights. And these hipster buffoons think they are getting hit on. So they are giggling, shaking their heads at the guys and looking our direction. So I point to their car and make motion that their lights need to be turned on.
These self absorbed hipsters probably thought they were getting hit on by girls now because the lights didn't go on. They just sat at the light flailing about like morons. We were turning left so, we left the idiots to fall into a drug induced paranoia that the guys next to them were going to follow them for raping or something. Fucking idiots... so self absorbed that they thought all the waving, pointing and gesturing was about them and not the car. Some people really just should not be allowed to drive, let alone breathe. Women drivers do really sucks.... hipster ones even more so cause they apparently don't know or think they do. They just think people are trying to pick up on them while they lay waste to other cars.
Yep, just got the call that I am approved to move in July 12th to Country Oaks. This was my second choice, the first one didn't work out. This place is slightly more expensive than my first choice. The location is pretty choice though. It's literally around the block from my gym and there are 2 big grocery stores within a 5 minute walk. It's also just down the way from the elementary school Joey's kiddo will be attending (if he stays longer than just for the summer).
I will be leaving La Vista's loft that I pay $908 for and will be paying $1145 for a 2-bedroom apartment. I am glad to be leaving La Vista, they make it out to be a really nice place to live. Honestly it's pretty ghetto and their maintenance staff works at neck breaking snail speeds. I inquired about moving into a bigger place and they charge $1345 for their 2-bedroom apartments. They are more expensive and are all around suckier. The new place has outside storage AND a spot to hook up a washer/dryer. Fuck yes! No more laundromat.
So now the dreaded packing and cleaning shall commence. I really hate moving but you gotta do it sometimes. Maybe if I remember to do it I will do a video tour of the new place. Ack, I just realized I gotta get on the task of switching my utilities over to the new place. I suppose I should quit farting around on the internet and get to doing what I need to get done.
Aside from the work enforced piss and TB test, I haven't really had one. Not from my job and not on my own accord. Ignorance is bliss?
A few weeks ago work promised me a cool 20 bucks for a health screening. All I had to do was give them 15 minutes of my time and a drop of blood. 20 bucks you say? In the fine words of Homer J. Simpson, "Mmmm beer," so I figured what the hell! Let's do it.
The hubs hates consoles but I have a nostalgic soft spot for them.
?! No, not that kind.
Well as far as he sees it, probably the same type of soft spot.
In my defense (probably not a good example at my level of ridiculousness) I stopped at PS3, Gamecube, PSP and DS. But I do like to keep abreast of gaming news, up 'n' coming consoles and consumer reaction. What it comes down to is, I don't play games like I used to AND I can find a ROM for most of what I have the urge to play. So why invest in a new console when the ones I have are good enough? I don't know, maybe to show off....to no one in my age group that gives a rats ass.
Warning do not continue any further if you are a fan of XBawx or Cock of Doody.
It's hard to find quality in the ocean of video games out there.
Once in a while you will find something from day 1 that you continue to
follow and play.
As
time and resources permit of course! That being said you won't find me
banging away on little blocks avoiding a walking, cactus-penis.
You
may however find me tethered to the television via a legacy console
from time to time. Hey! Don't judge me, I go outside to play too. Viva Nostalgia!
You also have your thinkers. You know the ones that you start out playing because you like puzzles.... and you end up needing to go play outside because it's easier than continuing the game? There are some games I just didn't beat. I know! Who woulda thought a puzzle game would puzzle me? How puzzling!
Then there are the rare gems. Precious, beautiful and if you let it, quite time consuming. But it's SPACE!!! Seriously this is fucking beautiful... but don't let it fool you. It's not easy. KSP Build Fly Dream Trailer from Shaun Esau on Vimeo.
Music from: M83 - Outro http://ilovem83.com
Video captured from KSP 0.19.1 http://kerbalspaceprogram.com
Font: American Captain by Michael Adkins http://www.dafont.com/american-captain.font
"Kerbals in capsule" shot from KSP "A Cake Odyssey" trailer http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFehUQojGkU
KSP is a game where the players create and manage their own space program. Build spacecraft, fly them, and try to help the Kerbals to fulfill their ultimate mission of conquering space.
You are never too old to do anything and that includes video games. Everyone needs bubble gum for the mind and it's better than most crap out there.
Nah I didn't go wrecking houses. But I did happen to land on this movie sort of at the right time. IF there is such a thing as the right time.
Getting married at my ripe old age of; in my 30's, hasn't really taught me any more than I already knew . By my age, unless I marry a tot out of high school, my partner will have already partnered before (several times). Sometimes these partnerings (I am making up words, leave me alone!) tread into that murky water I call, procreation.
I volunteered not to participate in the enriching, diluting or anything having to do with gene pools. One of me is more than enough (mom has thanked me, no joke). People pee in pools, I would like to stay out of them.
I back-peddaled in my personal plan not to partner with a parent. Shit happens, the dating world gets much smaller as you get older! Whatever; making excuses for myself I suppose. I still remain happily married... now I am just happily married with a 10 year old on his way.
I have to play step-mom. For how long? I dunno, I THINK just for the summer. But then again (see paragraph above) we have seen how far my thinking has gotten me. No excuses, I should have planned from day one. This could happen at any time... and that time is now.
I think I have to do right by society and the parents. I think I need to find some guidelines to post on fridge next to the sign that says:
And hopefully I won't end up in the dog house by the parents for beingstupid. Or as part of the long list of Wicked Step-mothers! My biggest fear is failure... and failing at raising kids can be pretty disastrous (or interesting if good biographies are written).
I suppose I should get back to apartment hunting... the only door inside my current place is one to the bathroom. I think I need (the step-son probably will too) more privacy than that.
Now where did I stash that bottle of wine I was looking for???
Once upon a time I rescued an iguana from a child who wanted one. And of course mom couldn't say no and she also had no clue of how to care for them. These little beasties are tough to care for. More often than not they die as pets because people are idiots. When I got the little Ig Monster she was only 6 inches long and really emaciated. By the time we parted ways she was pushing 6 feet!
I don't know if with age I am becoming more forgiving or just becoming a more decaffeinated version of myself. Someone took the wizz bang out of my attitude or something! Over the course of the last few months I have actually spoken at my sister, spoken to her and actually am trying to establish a cordial relationship with her.
A gloomy day spent at Pismo State Beach in hopes of seeing some butterflies. Not a single one was spotted, dead OR alive. I kind of caught the tail end of Monarch time so it's my fault. Not to mention the day was kinda icky. I don't blame the butterflies for not showing themselves IF in case there were any actually around. This was an unplanned pit stop on my way home, next time I will plan better.
The other day after work I had to make a quick run to the grocery store. I need to stop doing that during the day. Events are getting scarier with each day time venture to the store. Anyways, on my way there I was lucky enough to be walking behind the Queen of Trashy. I was so dumbstruck I had to take a picture. I don't know if she heard the phone make the picture sound or not but I really didn't care. I had to share the horrors.
My question is, was this woman wearing a very short skirt or did her ass eat her shorts?
I am a fairly easy going restaurant patron. I don't nit-pick everything to death but I do appreciate good food and good customer service. I usually complain about how horrible service is at places I have eaten at. I really should point out the good ones. They deserve the good AND free advertising since they are good; just like Steamers. My sister and I were looking for a place that served oysters on the half shell. We drove roughly 30 minutes, to Steamers of Pismo, in order to appease our urge for oysters on the half shell.
Actually it's Oso Flaco Lake; oso flaco is skinny bear in Spanish. I have been lagging at posting my hike pictures. I would like to say it's because I have been too busy but that wouldn't entirely be true. So this set is from well over a month ago. The day was quite gloomy but I enjoy that type of weather for outdoor activities. My sister and I packed some Micheladas and burritos for our lovely trek out to the beach.
***Warning this blog post has a lot of pictures!***
