The Battle Within

I'm trying to get back into the Exposaroonie thing. Submitting pictures regularly and whatnot.

This next challenge is the Best of 2008 round. So, I submitted my favorite picture, taken on my crappy razor phone, which I think should get me some pity points.

Go vote(after Saturday)! ^__^

PseudoFamily

Top Row/Left to Right: Todd, Jodi's little sister, Jodi's husband person
Bottom Row/Left to Right: Me, Jodi, Her Mom

I have a love hate relationship with this picture. It's nice, but then kind of 80's sitcomish. Not exactly sure why I'm up in the air about it, but it's full of people I love, so I'm dealing.

This is part of that adopted family I'm always referring to. I've been pseudo sister/daughter in this family for 15 years now, and the fact that I've known anyone that long still blows my mind. That's what moving around as a child will do for ya. You get used to not knowing anyone longer than a couple years at a time.

So, anyway. This was our Saturday. We decided, since it was about 70 degrees in December, we'd go on an outing after church.

Again, yes I go to church on Saturday, and no I'm not Jewish. Not that I have a problem with Jewish folk. I just happen to keep sabbath and believe in Jesus, which makes me not Jewish.

Is it terribly obvious that I get asked about tabernacle ALL THE TIME? No tabernacle. Not Jewish people. Sorry.

Anyhow, we had great fun. Ended up playing Wii sports into the wee hours of the morning, watching episodes of Fresh Prince that we'd all seen a billion times, and eventually passing out.

Oh, and I Sharpied little sister's Chucks.

They now rock.

Not so eventful, but wonderful.

Tonight Ari, Jodi and her husband, and Todd and I are meeting with another old chum. He and Ari and I went to college together.

Can't wait.

Eight O'clock And All Is Well

It's only eight o'clock here, but I'm pretty sure I'm too beat to be posting. Beat but relaxed.

I am basking in the glow of our Christmas tree, listening to the wurr of the ceiling fan, and the yipping coyote pups in the distance (I think I've mentioned that I live in the boonies). Todd's asleep on the futon, and Kimchi's asleep in Todd's recliner. Our birdies are sweetly peeping now and again, and the clock is ticking me to sleep.

Christmas is over. It's 70 freaking degrees outside, and NOW it really feels like winter to me. Don't ask me why. Maybe it's because I can relax now? I don't know.

Whatever the reason, it feels like all the world is napping. Except maybe those coyotes. I LOVE IT!

Tomorrow will consist of church, good food, going for a walk at the lake, and an evening with dear friends-an adopted family of sorts.

Fun will be had by all.

I Stress Over These Things

For your viewing pleasure...two very fun hand painted fleece scarves!

Side note: Fleece is evil, and rotary tools are the devil.

Christmas is creeping closer, and my crafting is almost complete! I can't wait until that bright and shining moment when everything is finished. I will mark the last name off my list and weep. Weep for joy, you hear?!

In an attempt to spare you from yet another "I'm overloaded and it's my own fault" post, I will be taking advantage of the fact that I've been tagged!

Ari tagged me to list seven random/quirky things about myself. So, with no further adieu.

1) My name is written on page 77 of every book I own-except my bible.
2) I have a tattoo of one of my drawings-a snail.
3) I used to play with the feathers in Stevie Ray Vaughan's hat when I was a baby. He and Lonnie Mack were friends of my Grandpa Jerry's.
4) Helena Bonham Carter is my girl crush.
5) Bunnies and otters make me cry.
6) I'm a non-alcoholic lush.
7) I had my nose broken with a baseball bat when I was little, and now I can pop it.

Alright folks. You're it: Ashley, Matt, Becca, Lauren or guest blogger(which I'm now counting as two), Andy, and The Dutchess!

* Link to your original tagger(s).
* Share seven facts about yourself in the post-some random, some weird.
* Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
* Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs/twitter.
* List these rules.

And You Give Yourself Away

I don't know if it's the whole Christmas season thing, or if I'm just hormonal, but I've been crying about everything lately.

Everything.

Thursday it was an Egyptian hairless kitty. I went to visit my friend Stephen-to hang out and paint before he left for Chicago. I followed him to his friend's house and there she was. All tiny and furless. I teared up.

Friday it was bunny socks. I had to refrain from blinking in order not to cry.

Saturday it was my Mom's little crippled doggy. Ewok is 14 and a long one. He's losing control of his back legs. I cried in the bathroom.

Yesterday it was a series of text messages with Jodi. I randomly sent her the lyrics to that "With or Without You" song. It's an inside joke with us. Anyhow, when she responded with the next line, I started balling. Like someone called me fat and ugly and stole my puppy. Seriously.

So, as of late, I'm a weenie. It doesn't take much, and I'm in the all out throws of an emotional breakdown. A tiny, short-lived emotional breakdown, but a breakdown none-the-less.

I'm pretty sure I'm not hormonal. I don't usually have that problem.

So, is it the holidays or what?!

Bunnies & Icicles

I love relationships. I know I probably sound like a ditz, but I am simply amazed by communication. The fact that you can tell a story and another person keeps pieces of it, and adds them to that box of you that they keep in their head astounds me. I just love it.

Maybe that's why I like blogging. I love to learn things about people. Just little things.

The only thing I love more than knowing someone well is knowing that they know me.

Now, if you leave this post today with one thing, I want it to be that I'm usually a pretty tough cookie. Emotionally I mean. I don't cry over a lot, and I certainly don't like to cry. You will never catch me watching a chick flick/tear jerker and sobbing with joy. No sir. I am an escapist, remember?

That being said. I cried over a pair of bunny socks this morning. No, Matt. Not a bunny in socks. Toe socks with bunnies on them.

I realize how lame that sounds, but it just happened. My supervisor gave me my Christmas gift today. An icicle ornament and bunny socks.

A while back she and I were discussing childhoods.

She told me a funny story that inspired my Christmas gift to her, and I told her about how I used to get in trouble for strange things as a child.

In the winter it was eating icicles off the car. Hey, I was five. I liked popsicles. The rest of the time it was something to do with my bunny eating something he shouldn't be. Like the Christmas lights!

So, I almost lost it over the icicle ornament, but managed to hold it together. Then I opened the bunny socks and that was it. I was done for. Fanning the tears trying to escape my eyes, I thanked her.

She beamed. Perfectly content with the fact that she'd brought me to tears with socks and a plastic ornament.

TRIUMPH

Okay. So, it's still rainy and hideous out of doors, but there is sunshine in my soul. I didn't even have to go 5 hours. My wonderful husband apologized, and it was sincere! Left to his own devices he came to the conclusion that he was a meanie head.

Now, onto something completely ridiculous.

Brothers right?

I'm telling you folks. All my love interests have something in common with Kermit. Odd? Maybe. I know plenty of women who'll back me up on this, though. So, maybe it's not so odd.

Gloom & Doom

I've never really done this before, but I'm giving my husband the silent treatment. Mind you, this will not be easy. I don't play off silent very well at all. I am always the first to send up the white flag, whether I was at fault or not. I just hate arguing. But that will not happen this day.

I had an extremely rough morning, and he was unsympathetic and just plain mean to me. Even when I told him that I left my lunch, yummy egg rolls, on top of my Jeep as I left for work this morning.

It was raining on me. I had my hands full. The egg rolls were frozen and causing my fingers to go numb. So, I sat them on my roof. Innocent enough, but oh the repercussions.

So, they bounced off into a mud puddle. Face down. Thus adding to my horrible morning. All because of the rain!

When I called my husband for pity. That is what I wanted. Just an "Oh no, baby." Instead I got a lecture on how me being me just annoys him. The gist was that I am an ineffective moron. When I asked him to please stop, and I said it loudly, he hung up on me.

Now, in his measly defense, he had a rough morning too. I understand snapping, but I do not condone HANGING UP ON ME FOR NO REASON and then not apologizing.

I'm not one for games. I hate them and I do NOT play them. Manipulating someones actions and emotions creeps me out. It's like an evil science project, but today I am not speaking to him until he admits that hanging up on me was not justified, and apologizes for being a big mean man.

Furthermore, I blame all of this on the weather. The rain is killing us. The clouds are blocking out the sky and sun, and we will all die soon.

Window Seat PLEASE?!?!?!?

Okay. I have no time to be blogging right now, but I must vent.

Me + Plane = right as rain

Unless I'm without a window seat. Then you just don't want to be near me, or between me and that ever so luxurious bathroom that everyone's DYING to piddle in.

I flew all the way to Korea by my lonesome and I was fine. Enjoyed the flight. Not the 17 hour one so much, but it was cool. Why was it cool? Because I was by a window. I could see. I could breath.

So, husband person got approved for a convention thingy in San Francisco and that's grand. We just have to pay for my ticket and tada! Awesome mini vacation.

I should be completely stoked. Yes I say stoked. Instead I have to be stressing out because Todd's supervisor has been sitting on this whole getting everything set up thing for like two months!

Since Bossy Poo thought he'd tell us about this trip to Cali, oh I don't know, two and a half WEEKS before our expected departure...deep healing breath...I am going to have an isle seat from Missouri to California. Like 4 hours of me trying to pretend like I can breathe that canned air blissfully.

I will throw up.

Oh, and I don't get to sit by my husband on that flight either!

GLORIOUS!

Maybe someone will be nice and switch seats with me. Maybe.

Unusual As Usual

Before I get started yammering, here's my newest creation. She's a variation of my owlie. I love her!

From now until Christmas I'm going to be sewing and knitting my fingers off. At some point this whole making people stuff for Christmas thing started getting out of hand, but it's worth it!

Okay. So, I like to celebrate unusual things. Random holidays for example. One of my favorites is this New Zealand holiday. Not that New Zealand holidays are unusual. They just qualify as unusual to me, seeing as I'm not a New Zealander.

In January I look forward to Dress Up Your Pet Day. It's January fourteenth and none of you should pass up this opportunity to pamper/humiliate the critters you love. The day after Christmas I'm going to start knitting this kitty hoodie. I know Kimchi will never forgive me, but I can't help myself. He'll just be so darn cute and cozy.

Today I want to celebrate my 105th post. Why I didn't feel as if I should celebrate the 100th, I'm not so sure.

Anyhow, I've been blathering for quite some time now and I just love it. Letting some of the nonsense in this head of mine out to play is a good thing. I thank anyone who has the attention span to muddle through it, and I love to read your comments. By "your" I mean my faithful few. You now who you are. THE ONLY ONES READING THIS.

I try not to compare Matt, Ben and Chris' gazillion comments to my two-maybe three? I'm going for quality not quantity here, people.

Oh, who am I kidding? I covet commentage! There! I've said it and I'm glad! Glad!

I will press forward undaunted.

*Sniff*

As if I too am a successful male blogger with an entourage of female followers.

*Sniff*

I will triumph!

Chunks of love to my loyal subjects. All three or four of you. One loves you. Kiss. Kiss.

It's Not Pleasant

Alright. I guess we know where we all stand. I'm getting ready for work as we speak/type/read/whatever. So, I'm going to let it slide that y'all didn't have my back on this whole positive thinking ice thing. I can be benevolent and just let it go. I can.

Today has been a rough morning, already. Last night was a rough night. It seems, and I think a few of you can back me up on this, that today just sucks. It sucks. It sucks. It sucks.

Last night I had an unpleasant "discussion" with my husband person. Although resolved at this point, it still ruined my night.

Then I dropped my blueberry bagel, slathered with cream cheese, face down in the sink before beginning this post on this non-icy, once potentially awesome day.

Next, on my way in to work I'm supposed to pick up a donation. One that had been confirmed for our shelter this Christmas. I call ahead and do my spiel to this guy. No donation. No concern. No brain.

And I have now come to the realization that I am wearing mismatched socks, and I'm not changing it (No those are not my mismatched socks pictured above. I'm pretty sure those are hobbit feet.).

The only perks to this day thus far have been:
a) It's gorgeous outside
b) Your posts make me smile*

Maybe things are looking up? Have a good day and weekend.

*Thus, my mercy upon you for the non-icy day I'm having. ^__^

Ice Ice Baby

My boss uttered these promising words of hope today.

"If it's icy in the morning, y'all don't try coming in. I won't be here to know if you did or not."

Okay bloggers. I need ice. How, pray tell do I think I'm going to accomplish this? I figure we can make it happen through the power of suggestion.

I mean, isn't that how Storm does it? She just rolls her pretty little eyeballs back in her head all exorcist-like and WHAMMO. Positive thinking.

If that fails I will resort to my ice dance. Watch the weather channel in the morning to see what the verdict is on ice in Alabama. No ice? You can rest assured that I'm moshing in my driveway with my ice trays at 7AM sharp.

You think I'm kidding.

Bits & Pieces

I've semi recovered from the grogginess that was my yesterday, and would like to write a coherent post. To keep it safe I'm just going to stick to sharing a few bits and pieces from the past couple of days.

First of all, we had a heck of a storm last night. Tornado warnings and the whole bit. It flooded my office and I've been using a shop vac all day. So, I have a hellacious headache.

It's still gloomy outside too. What happened to the insanely pretty day after the rotten weather? Normally it's gorgeous here. I took this at the lake Monday night, before heading to Ari's.


I want that weather back now, please.

I mentioned Taffy yesterday, right? She is the sweetest old girl in the world (fifteen I think). Well, I took a picture of her for you. She said I could.


And here are the Christmas ornaments I made. I still have a few more to go, but that sick day really helped me get a jump on things. I might actually get finished by the time of the bazaar. Might.

Germy Crafting

I think I caught Matt's crud. Virtually of course. Cough. Sniff. Sneeze. Ugh.

It's not too bad yet. Hopefully I can triumph with water and sunshine.

I was planning on dragging myself to work and spreading the love, but Todd decided to take the day off. So...yeah. I broke.

Here I am watching Pink Panther, sniffling in the sunshine, and making Christmas ornaments. As soon as it warms up I'm venturing out for some vitamin D. It's off to my Pastor's house to let their doggy out.

They're out of town and their doberman loves me. Her name is Taffy, and she's a gorgeous chocolate/tan doggy. She's so sweet and always happy to see me. We go outside to romp and hang out, and she talks to me and wags her nub.

I look forward to my doggy date. I get all cabin fevery if I'm stuck at home all day.

The Mondays

I've got a case of 'em. Plenty to do to keep me busy, and yet I feel like a nap might do me good. A nap and my kitty. Doing something crafty and then a nap and my kitty. That would be good right about now.

My drive in this morning ought to be fun. I'll be fighting off sleep with The Shins and cold air.

I hope I'll be more alive for the trek to Ari's for Girls' Night In. We've been redeeming Mondays pretty faithfully for a while now. It's great. She and the very awesome Ashley have Girl's Night Out on Fridays. We've converged once and plan on it in the future. We natives of Planet Awesome try to get together whenever we can.

What's that? You're dying to know what gloriously interesting, fun and productive things we'll be doing tonight? Well, besides playing with Puppy and keeping secrets from her husband person, we'll be creating little bits o' joy.


I'll be making Christmas ornaments for a church bazaar(like the gloriously sparkly one pictured above). As for Ari? I'm pretty sure she'll be knitting, as she almost always is.

We keep trying to sell this craftiness as cool and admirable. Making stuff is fun, and it's all anti-mass merchandising. Some people just aren't convinced. My husband calls us little old ladies and Matt says we're dorks.

We're oppressed I think. ^__^

Wishful Thinking

Let's take a moment to recognize just how much I wanted it to snow a foot last night. A lot. A whole freaking lot.

I realize I live in the south now, but I'll never stop hoping. Growing up in Kentucky/Indiana winter meant snow. Snowmen. Sledding down Sycamore Hill. Snowball fights. Glorious, wonderful, magical snow.

Here in Alabama, if it flurries they call school off. Seriously. They had one rough winter. Snowed folks in and all. I think it was in 93. Anyhow, it happened right before we moved here. So, everyone is always talking about the snow they got "that year," and buying all the bread and milk if the weather dude mentions a 1% chance of accumulation. I'm not joking.

If it had snowed I wouldn't be going to work, or out of bed.. That's how awesome it would've been. Alas, all it did was freeze. There will be some patches to avoid on my way in this morning, but that's it. Sigh.

Now I'm hoping for 2 feet on Sunday evening/Monday morning. My doggies are snug as bugs in a rug with their hay filled doggy house. Under the trees, up on stilts. So, as long as I know they'll be cozy, I'm ready for a blizzard.

Fundamental Fundependability

Kitty noses are things of great beauty. At least I think so. Do they ever get warm? Can they get warm? In my experience they are perpetually cold and wet.

Kimchi's nose is exceptionally cute, if I do say so myself, and I do. And I should know. I see it first thing every morning. He likes to waltz up to my face and push his nose to mine and start loving on me. Love I tell you. Complete. Unadulterated. Love.

Now, I know it's to get me to refill his bowl of Iams Weight Management Kitty Kibble(the vet says he might be genetically predisposed to be "chunky"), but it's love too. A nice cozy relationship full of trust and reliability. Fundamental fundapendability.

All my cats were always psychotic gypsy nut jobs. They fit right in with my family. Grade A neurotic.

Love me. Pet me. Okay...stop or I'll eat you. Never mind. I'm leaving.

This is not the case with the newest addition to the Click family. He is oh so sweet and cuddly. I've never met a more lovable feline. All eleven and a half pounds of fluff are full of love.

That picture up there? Todd's posing his wittle mug to get that picture for me. Kimchi? Didn't mind in the least. Just purred the whole dang time.

I love him. Stinky hind end and all. Think I'll go home to him now actually, and my hubby. ^__^

Dropping Eve

I haven't much time today. I haven't much time any day, but I must share a tidbit of the confusion that is often my experience in this ol' world of ours.

What do you think of when you hear the word dismembered? If you're anything like me you just thought of some frightening scene once observed on the crime channel. It's what my kitty does to all his toys.

Now, imagine my surprise when I overheard a friend of mine discussing the fact that their church had to dismember someone. Yikes! Dismembered?! Glad I don't go to that church. Medieval much?

I knew I must have misunderstood, and listened in for context. Yeah. No longer a member. Blah. Blah. Blah.

I'm not much for dropping eve, but when I do, it's never pretty.

Survivor

Hello wonderful people! Since you're all dying to know...Thanksgiving was a blast. I wish I had more photos than I do, but my crappy razor camera doesn't quite cut it. Ha!! Razor. Cut it. Okay. Okay. Sorry.

As I was saying. Todd and I survived Thanksgiving. Festivities at Jodi's(You remember Jodi. The soul mate?) house included:

-Making veggie rolls, as seen (pre-rolled) above.
-Making obscene amounts of deviled eggs. I can't even look at my chickens as of late.
-Baking my first lasagna, which was devoured.^_^
-A rousing game of Rock Band, at which I owned the drums. On medium! I'm so proud of myself!
-Playing football until I hurt my shoulder.
-Watching some weird Kung Fu movie that I actually liked. Who knew?!

So, that's it in a nutshell. It was lots of fun, and really felt like family.

It's been a long while since Jodi and I have laughed like we did this Thanksgiving. It was so great. We've always been so very different. I'm amazed at how much we need each other.

Being so far apart for so long, I worry that we'll drift apart, but it hasn't happened yet, and I pray it never does.

Red Light, Yellow Light, Green Light, Go

Why does everyone on the planet go in slow motion when you're in a hurry? Seriously. This is not just in our heads. These people really are strategically placed and going abnormally slow.

I had a million and one things to do today. Go to the post office by this time. Make the bank deposit by this time. I have an appointment at four. In usual Heather fashion, I gave myself minimal time to get to these places, and get these things done. I swear I almost had a massive coronary sitting in traffic.

I was the fourth car from the red light, in the slow lane. The light changes. We sit there. And sit there. The light eventually turns yellow and red AGAIN! I still don't know what went on. There wasn't a wreck, a pedestrian, an alien space craft landing. Everything appeared to be normal. Yet, there we all sat.

I'm not a horn honker. If I honk my horn, it's because I see immanent danger, and you are about to die if you do not make a change in your plan of action. So I sat silently, checking the clock, wishing to God in heaven that I had a paint ball gun.

Travelling would be much more effective if I could tag all the inattentive people. You'd know who to get behind at the red light then. Hot pink rear windshield? Steer clear, my friend. Steer clear.

Heather Primavera

I consider myself to be a pretty understanding person. I don't normally jump to conclusions, or react harshly, but sometimes I want to. Oh, how I want to.

This weekend Todd and I made a mad dash to the grocery store for some much needed items. Among these was pasta sauce for my world famous three cheese ravioli. ^__^

Now, normally we do the whole self check out thing for minimum human interaction. It saves on time and energy, and will eventually eliminate any need for cashiers. Wonderful people, I'm sure. I just have an aversion to them.

On this occasion we went to a manned check out. The lady was nice, but obviously not well. Runny nose, blood shot eyes, coughing...really gross and germy. Definitely in need of some cough syrup and a nap. But no. She's at Walmart, serving Satan!

So, we do the whole stand there, smile, pay and "have a nice night, hope you feel better" thing. Then we escape with our cart. We grab our few bags and out the door we go.

Standing next to the truck, in the cold, I wait for Todd to open the tail gate. All of a sudden the heavy bag I'm resting over my shoulder gets a lot lighter. I hear glass shattering and instantly my leg is cold and I smell the sweet aroma of Prego(with mushrooms).

Check out chick must've been doped up on some NyQuil after all. She put the ginormous jar of spaghetti sauce in a bag with a 2 liter. Smart much?! I realize I could've paid attention to her bagging expertise, but I shouldn't have to!

I laughed it off and went and cleaned up. I looked like I'd been mauled by Theo. From the knee down my right leg was covered in red. It was a gory mess.

Yes. I waltzed up to customer service and told them what happened. Yes. They replaced the pasta sauce. Yes. They apologized whole heartily, and I smiled and said things like: It's fine. It's okay. It's not your fault.

It's not fine. It's not okay. My pants are ruined and it is their fault. I even did magical-get-stain-out stuff, and there are still orange spots on my corduroys. That woman should've been home nursing that cold. Not absent mindedly bagging my groceries.

Sometimes I wish I could just be mean.

Early Thanksgiving

Today is early Thanksgiving at the in-law's! If I sound excited it's because I am. Going there this weekend will make next week less hectic. Plus, I'm making yummy cookies and my twin nephews will be there.

It's always surprising to me how sweet two thirteen year old boys can manage to be. When they aren't trying to kill each other, that is. Levi and Logan are the best and we just adore each other. They're like day and night, too(See below). It's like psychology class just hanging out with them. I love it!

Todd and I are quite the hot commodity during this season. At least, that's the way I prefer to see it. Otherwise I'd get overwhelmed and lose my mind. I'd probably lose my mind anyhow, if it weren't for kids. Thank goodness they're practically everywhere. We have to be at five or six different places for every special occasion.

Most holidays we visit: my mom and step dad, his mom and step dad, his dad and step mom, our best friend's parents and her grandmother(a.k.a. Maw-Maw). It can definitely get hectic, but we are grateful. I can't imagine the holidays without them.

So, yay for cookies! Yay for nephews, and yay for early Thanksgiving celebrations! Yay! ^__^

Creative Compulsive Disorder

...as well as a new addiction. This is my first hand-sewn ornament. He's a bit rustic, but I think I like him. I am now obsessed. Everyone and their mother will now be receiving something adorable and wee to dangle from their tree.

I'm also in the process of trying to get my Etsy shop up and running. Between Christmas crafts, Etsy, Swap-bot and making owlies for my friend's boutique...my hands are never still. Ever.

Oh dear. I hope I'm not mistaken for one of those bloggers.

Look what I made?!
Aren't I awesome?!
Love me!
Adore me!
Want to BE me!

No. No. No. I'm simply an artist with a compulsion to create. As a matter of fact, I think I've come up with a new diagnoses. Creative Compulsive Disorder. I make stuff so much that if I didn't blog about it sometimes, I wouldn't have anything to blog about at all. And we all know we just can't have that.

Suck Fest

I don't want to give people the wrong impression. I'm a happy person. Really, I am. Finding humor in the everyday, even a day like today, is normally my cup of tea. I'm just finding it difficult this morning.

So, in honor of all that sucks like a hoover, here is a list of things about today that I loathe. Not hate. LOATHE.

I loathe...

1) the fact that my sweet little kitty cat is obviously striving to come up with new and exciting health problems.
2) spending large sums of money at the vet.
3) when your husband gives the cat TWICE the recommended dosage of meds, and then acts like it's your fault that he didn't double check the directions BEFORE administering.
4) dry skin.
5) sore throats.
6) loathing this many things on a Friday!!!

I hope all of your days are much better than the Suck Fest mine has been thus far. In the event that your day does suck? Please share. Misery loves company, you know?

TAX MAN!!!

Who here has seen Stranger Than Fiction? For those of you who haven't, make a point to see it, for me? Please. I love that movie! Not only is it an amazing piece of literature/cinematography, but it also paints a pretty accurate picture of a tax man.

Up until today I believed that only in this movie could a tax man become something other than an awkward, uptight wad of idiosyncrasies.

Today I met our new tax man. He's normal?! Wha?! Polite and personable?! No way! This guy was not in the least bit strange. On the surface he seems to be kosher, but we'll see. I'm still doubtful.

Last year I had to endure listening to a bagpipe version of Beach Boys Christmas songs while the odd little man sifted through mounds of paperwork. No. I'm not kidding. For THREE WHOLE DAYS I had to try not to laugh, and ultimately kill that greasy, shifty eyed tax man. I would run up to his lap top and turn down the music anytime he was away from it. Then he'd come back and mumble how strange it was that it kept turning itself down, and he'd turn it up even louder.

Here's to the slightest bit of normalcy in all auditors.

K is for Kermit!

First of all, here's the other muppet magnet I made for Ariana. I thought he was quite appropriate for this post. ^__^

So, here I've been all busy, and too preoccupied to come up with something interesting to post. Silly me. I forgot that Lauren gave me a K!

She nabbed this wonderful little game from here, and I'm keeping the ball rolling.

The idea is you comment and I'll give you a letter too! Then you can make a list of your ten favorite things beginning with that letter. Now, doesn't that sound like fun?!

10 Favorite K's

1. kabobs (veggie of course)
2. kangaroos
3. Kermit The Frog
4. kismet
5. kisses
6. kiwi
7. knickers
8. knitting
9. koala bears
10.Korea

Unmonumental Bliss

Well, the weekend is over and I had to give Ariana back to her husband and puppy. Zombies were apparently taking over their home, while she and I were in our cozy little world of knitting, sculpting and yapping. Believe me you, any weekend with lovely ladies, knitting needles and The Big Lebowski is a weekend worth remembering. We even managed to force Todd into retreating(with my guitar and amp) into the bedroom. SCORE! Girls night in achieved. Freakin' A!

What interesting things have I to tell? Hmmm...perhaps nothing. I gave Ari one of the two Muppet magnets I've been in the process of making her. Kermit, Pepe and Animal are her favorites. She's got Pepe and I'm holding the other one hostage until tonight. For your viewing pleasure...heeeere's Pepe!

This very unmonumental post reminds me of how thankful I am to be able to enjoy such smallness. No big deals or earth shattering news. Just me and loved ones. Just being. Just creating. It's nice. My world has seemed vary ominous and scary in the past. I like what it's become, or how it's maintaining.

Oh the hippiness! I need food. Enjoy your days peoples!

Oh The Weather Outside Is Frightful

The weather is gloomy today, but this has not dampened my spirits. With paycheck in hand I will stop by the store on my way home today, and then I'll be free. I will be bombarded by unwanted Christmas tunes, but that will not dampen my spirits either. It is Friday and I am SO ready for the weekend. What I'm not ready for is the foggy drive to work. You can hardly see your nose out there!

On my way into work the other foggy/rainy day I counted twenty-six people driving without their lights on. Twenty-six!! Obviously I was in a lovely mood. As I drove through town I grew more and more disgruntled. How many morons are driving around in their nice, shiny vehicles that apparently didn't come equipped with head lights!? So I commenced to counting. Twenty-six!!

Subsequently, this must be the age that crotchetiness sets in. It's also the age that my husband decides he wants to master the guitar. My guitar. Yours, mine and ours? Usually, but not this time. It is my electric. While I'm glad he's picked up a hobby I can enjoy and share, I am getting a little peeved at how he compares it to the acoustic he held at the guitar shop ONCE. He's all the time saying things like:

1. The action is weird on this thing.
2. I wish this thing was a little bigger.
3. I need a Dreadnought.

First of all, you be the judge of which is sexier. Mine is an Epiphone Fat 210. Like the one pictured here(the clouds part and the sun shines through). This is your basic Dreadnought. Both wonderful instruments with equally satisfying sound, but please. Don't play my guitar and talk trash about it. She'll get low self esteem.

His obsession is partially my doings, though. I got so excited when I saw he was sticking with this whim that I gave him my Musician's Friend. His eyes glazed over and there he went. Two weeks ago he didn't know what action was. He didn't want a box or a capo. I've created a monster. A cute guitar wielding monster, but a monster. Sigh.

At least he's not playing Christmas music.

What Day Is It?

Why do people put Christmas stuff out before Thanksgiving?!?! I mean, I love Christmas as much as the next person, but why ruin it? Why do I have to be subjected to holly jolly Christmas tunes before I darn well choose?!

I'm convinced that it's a marketing strategy. Someone in some marketing department somewhere really think we're that impressionable. Well, believe me you buddy. I am not that malleable, and I don't care how many times I have to listen to "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas," I will not get into the holiday spirit until after Thanksgiving! And I will not do it by shopping!

I've made my dorky/noble little pledge to hand make more gifts this year. I'm knitting, painting and crafting like a madwoman. Sure, I'll still buy some Christmas gifts, but it will not be on the biggest shopping day of the year. Nor will it be due to having been pumped full of freaking Christmas cheer for two whole months! You're sneaky little plan failed Mr. Advert Man. Nice try, though.

Now, the city putting lights up is fine. I like twinkle lights at night. It's all magical and whatnot. But the next schmuck I see stringing their house with lights before the day after Thanksgiving is gonna get it from all 5'4" of me. Right in the kisser.

Quirkilicious

Slacking in the post department makes me sad, but I've been psychotically busy as of late. For those of you who've subjected yourselves to my incessant blathering before, you know this is self inflicted. Apparently I need to be so busy I can't see straight. Perhaps it's some sort of post traumatic art school disorder? Yes. Yes, I think that must be it.

So, I found inspiration over at Mega.Done.Discuss today. I thought it'd be a good idea to get this ball(or a variation of that ball) rolling. Here are some of my habits/quirks, strange though they may be.

1. I straighten things at grocery/department stores.
2. Since childhood I've had strange nightmares about Big Bird.
3. I'm a non-alcoholic lush.
4. I say "glorious" way too much.
5. I hate folding underwear!!!
6. Every book I own has my name written on page 77.
7. I enjoy waving and smiling at obviously angry drivers(because I know it really burns them up).
8. Whenever I see a baked potato I think of that Secret Agent Man song.
9. I hate the words: valley, package and moist.
10. Overwhelming guilt overtakes me when I think about having a kitty in the house, when my doggies live outside. :(

Now, if you've got something better to blog about go right ahead. If you don't? Get with it! Advertise those abnormalities.

Sweet Memories

Let me preface this post by saying that you've probably noticed frequent referrals to my childhood. I know I mention it every now and again. Okay. Okay. I admit I have some strange fascination with how whacked my childhood was, and how amazed I am that I turned out even semi-functional.

Okay. Deep healing breaths.

This morning I woke up with an itchy bottom lip. *Sigh* For those of you not blessed with this lovely affliction, that means I woke up with a fever blister/cold sore. I like to call them itchy hell bumps. Because, well that's what they truly are.

So, I woke up with an itchy hell bump this morning, which immediately sent me careening back to the second grade. My Mom is an R.N., which regardless of what I thought at age seven, does not mean Real Nurse. As the daughter of a caregiver I had been introduced to a world of knowledge that most young children shouldn't know. Like herpes, for instance.

I can still see Mrs. Greene(G), who always pronounced my name incorrectly, standing in front of my desk. Hands pressed firmly on her hips, she argued with me about the ginormous itchy fever blister on my little pink lip.

G: What happened to your lip, Miss Legg-E?

Me: It's herpes.

G: My dear, it is most certainly not herpes.

Me: Yes it is. I got it from my dad.

G: Well, don't tell people that!

Me: It is. It's a simplex.

G: Who told you that?

Me: My Mom. She's a Real Nurse. My name is Heather Legge. Not Legg-E. The E is silent(I had to throw that in there).

She got concerned and pinned a note to my shirt, which I was to deliver to my mother unopened. So, I read it on the bus, deemed it babble and threw it out the window. It was the one and ONLY time I ever littered, and it was all that dumb hillbilly woman's fault!

She never even followed up with a phone call! If she was worried I'd been abused, why didn't she call? Of course, at the time, I couldn't have cared less. I knew I was right. My dad had a fever blister and kissed me when he dropped me off at my moms. Two weeks later I had this red itchy bump on my lip, and my mom was tearing my dad a new one for kissing me and/or letting me drink after him. Then she went on and on about herpes simplex one and two, how contagious it was and that it would never go away.

As far as I can remember, Mrs. Greene never asked me another personal question. She still said my name wrong too, which always burnt me up. If I'd known how to spell her name I'd have started referring to her as Mrs. Green-E.

Wench.

Ah, memories.

Election vs. Biology

I'm ignoring all of this politicalness, although I did go vote last night.^__^
I'd rather focus on this strange pheromone I've realized I must give off. It's not your everyday, run of the mill, 26 year old female pheromone. It's one that attracts dudes twice my age, often times with obvious emotional problems. Why me?!

I don't know. Maybe I share these chemicals with all other young adult females. Perhaps we all get hit on by "those guys" now and again? Ladies, isn't it upsetting after a while? Do you start considering what it is you could be subconsciously doing to give these guys the idea that you might be in the least bit interested?

Johnny Depp is my father's age, but for some odd reason the idea of him hitting on me doesn't upset me. Maybe it's because I know he wouldn't do it at a gas station. Maybe it's because I know he wouldn't do it from inside his Ghetto Beretta! Maybe it's because I know he's married to a skinny French chick. Maybe.

The guy that hit on me at the gas station this morning, did it from deep inside his nasty, smelly car. He had to be in his late forties. A smoker. Obviously married-judging by the ring he displayed on his left hand, resting on the steering wheel. What was this dude thinking? Really? Do any of you men have any inkling what might've been going through this guy's brain-if it did indeed exist?

I was leaning against my Jeep, pumping my 18 gallons full. He pulled up in front of me and said, "No disrespect Ma'am, but you're just breath taking". I stood in awe of the fact that this was actually happening. I thought maybe I'd wake up. It could all be a bad dream. He was serious. He was SO serious, and awaited my reply.

There I stood in my raggedy blue jeans, an alumni tee and blue sparkly flip flops. Today was not a cute day. I didn't sleep well and I didn't care. I had no appointments. I made it a point to be comfy today. Comfy does not equal breath taking! I'm not even decent! And this guy was serious. It took me what seemed like an eternity to say, "Yeah". That was followed by an awkward, "Have a nice day" as I quickly quit pumping gas and hopped in my Jeep to escape.

I would let this go, but it's not the first time this kind of thing has happened. Rarely am I ever hit on by guys my age. I am told on pretty much a daily basis that I look 17, maybe 18. Yet, I seem to specifically attract 40 plus men wearing wedding rings. ICKY!

Am I doing something to warrant this attention? Seriously.

This Is Halloween!

Reluctantly I will admit that I had no initial plans for Halloween. I was going to go home and force my husband person to let me paint his face. That would have been it, but spontaneity got the best of me again.

By four o'clock I was meeting some friends(Jessica and Matt) in Huntsville. It was just to say hi and get some dinner, but it turned into an all-nighter. We all masqueraded as faeries and went Trick or treating with Jessica's adorable two year old munchkin. I only took a picture of Matt, though. Seeing how he was the most hilarious fairy of all.

We eventually ended up at his place, where I painted he and his wife's faces. She was a panda and he was a creepy patchwork doll. My phone died so I only got pictures of Matt, but I know you're dying to see my glorious face-painting capabilities. So, I'll post more when I get them.

For now, here's crappy razor pics of pre-face painting/fairy Matt...

And Patchwork Matt.


And bless my homebody husband for spending Friday night without me. I called him to see if he wanted to join me, but to no avail. I got home around 3AM to find him hogging the covers and strategically placing the cat onto my side of the bed. He said it was fine, but he was bitter. I had to suck up all day Saturday, but it was worth it.

Much Too Much of A Hurry

That's right. I'm seriously losing it today, and have absolutely no time to post anything worth while. I slack, therefor I am. I scheduled one too many things for this afternoon, but I'm okay with this. Why? Because I just got paid and it's Halloween! I'm going to get my nails done, buy some face paint(because I rock at painting faces), visit a few school counselors for work and then go have fun. ^__^

Oh-finished the Chinchilla painting last night. Here it is. I cropped a bit too much off, but you get the point.


HaPpY HaLlOwEeN!!!

Positive Thinking

It is currently 55 degrees outside and the sunshine just won't stop. So, I'm all want to go outside, but don't want to freeze my tookis off. Darn you oxymoronic weather! Darn you!

I have yet to get a pumpkin from the farmers' market, and I'm about to go insane. I need to carve a pumpkin. Need to! Ariana keeps talking about her pumpkiny bliss, and I'm at the end of my rope. The end! I'm going to stop emphasizing everything now.

As God as my witness, if in anyway possible, I WILL purchase at least one pumpkin tonight. Maybe by Friday I'll have had a chance to carve it. We'll see how much I get done on this blasted painting tonight and go from there.

Plastic Sunshine

Here's a sneak peak at my latest painting. Before you ask, it's a chinchilla. I don't know what I think yet. I never really know what I think until I've finished. Things tend to change so much during the painting process, I just can't be too sure.

I'm not positive about keeping the retro sunshine. It's my favorite, but a friend of mine was recently struck with the idea of reviving it too. We both had paintings in the process before we knew the others' plans. So, I'm struggling with whether I should keep it or not. Great minds think alike, right? What do you think?

As an artist, I constantly struggle with insecurities about my work. I wonder if I'll ever just be able to paint for a living. It's all I can think about sometimes. Today hasn't been all that productive for me, because all I want to do is go home and paint!

Oh. Complete change in subject. Perhaps I've mentioned the fact that my husband person is a car enthusiast, and that he ropes me into learning car terminology and all that jazz. I've learned bunches of stuff because it's his hobby/interest. It also helps when he sends me crap like this.

Don't get me wrong. I like cars. I even go as far as to say I love old muscle cars. I enjoy off-roading in my Jeep, but this is where I draw my little silent invisible line. On my own time, I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than read about this thing, and I have been shot in the foot before(pellet gun).

I am a good wife. ^__^

Off Kilter

Just out of an obsessive compulsive need to post something I must blather. Today has been pretty much like the rest of this week. Insanely busy and a little numbing. I feel a little off kilter.

I hate funerals with a passion, but the one I went to yesterday wasn't as horrible as some. It was more comforting than most. I have a very strange way of dealing with loss. Not strange for me, but others usually find it a bit odd.

My Grandmother passed away a few years ago and I didn't tell a soul for over six months. Some people were a little angry with me, but that's how I roll. I go numb for a while. I don't choose to do it that way. My brain just tries to deny things for a while. I guess to keep me sane.

I blocked a lot of things out from childhood too. I was abused sexually for years, but had no clue. One day, when I was fourteen years old, I just remembered. It was like a nightmare, and then I realized it was a memory. Really weird.

The mind is an amazing thing. I think it's God's way of protecting us until we can deal with things. Hind sight or whatever.

Okay, that turned out gloomy.

Crafty Distractions

It's not possible for me to not procrastinate. I've been overwhelmed with tasks lately. You've seen my list. Yet, I find myself ignoring the large projects to do little time consuming things, like making little clay vampire incense burners and finishing upcoming swaps.

This little bit of vampiry goodness is for Ari. I made him out of sculpey. Consequently, it's interesting that this clay is for sculpting, yet there's no T in it's spelling. Hmm. Anyhow, with Halloween coming up and our shared obsession for a certain southern gentleman, I thought it appropriate.


My latest swap assignment was to make a fish themed hand made post card. I'm mailing it off today. It's going to Brazil! Hope it makes it without getting rained on. I water colored it.


So, I have absolutely nothing to post about really. Nothing I want to think about anyhow. In case you hadn't figured it out yet. The crafty eye candy is just to hold you over until I actually have something to say.

I have to go to a visitation tonight and a funeral tomorrow. I hate it and I don't want to go. Assembling with a bunch of upset people to cry together about something we have absolutely no control over really isn't my thing. It doesn't really jive with my whole escapist thing.(I didn't make it up Matt. I didn't.^__^) Ugh.

Ok. Off to work.

Bruised Knees and Ice Monsters

Saturday night the husband person and I went ice skating with some friends. We'd never been before, and it was awesome. Todd got a little closer to the ice than he'd intended(a few times) and I whacked my knee into a wall, but overall it was fun.

Apparently ice skates have to cut off the circulation to your feet in order for you to successfully make turns and do swirlies(which are my favorite). It took me about an hour to leave the safety of the wall and venture to swirl. My feet were pretty much numb, but I lapped Todd and welcomed my new found freedom.

I quickly learned that hiking your pants up-all lady like of course-is not a good idea on ice. All adjustments are better made on warm/dry ground. I also learned that using the wall as a stopping device can and will bruise the heck out of your knee, and the kids with the little metal training bar things learn a whole lot faster than the adults. Ice monsters.

Dog In The Box

Who here loves animals? Let's see a show of hands. Alright. Who here likes dogs especially? Prepare to be angered.

My office is downtown across the street from the court house. Everyday a gazillion cars whiz by, like giant schools of fishies. It can get pretty noisy. Today, I heard a dog whimper. Then a yelp. I thought perhaps it was a spoiled mutt waiting not-so-patiently for their person. I quickly found a stopping point in my work to go investigate.

To my surprise there was a county worker's truck parked across the street. One of the animal control ones. A big white Chevy with a silver box in the bed. That's where the puppy pleas were coming from. Correction-CAME FROM ALL DAY! That truck was there until 4, and that doggy just cried and cried!

Animals have to be picked up and taken to the pound sometimes. I understand that. Can't they at least make it swift! Chances are this mutt bit someone, which will grant him immediate night-nights, or he's been scrounging for food in someones garbage bin, in an attempt to survive. So, this guy decides to leave the mutt to rot in this big metal box.

Both of my dogs are of the mutt persuasion. I found them hungry, cold and homeless. Now they're family. We were friends in seconds and cuddling on the way to the vet. They are forever grateful for my hospitality and I their love and fuzzy, slobbery goodness. Why can't everyone love animals enough to keep them from these sort of situations?

What possesses people to get critters if they aren't going to love and care for them?! Why do they let them run around without being spayed/neutered?! There are just way too many irresponsible, self-absorbed, desensitized jack-offs that find it necessary to have animals, but not take care of them.

Now, I want to know what was so all-fired important in that court house that a county worker had to leave an unattended, frightened, most likely thirsty/hungry animal in a cold metal box for hours?! Seriously. I guarantee he was in there flirting with a secretary, and didn't give that dog a second thought.

So, there I sat in my office on a beautiful fall Monday afternoon, listening to a pitiful puppy cry for help. I was so waiting for that dude to stroll out of the court house. I wanted to ask him what his business consisted of today. I wanted to know where that doggy came from, where it was going, and unless it bit someone and was acting rabid, which it's was not, why it deserved to sit in a cold metal box with no food or water for all afternoon. I'm really curious.

My husband thinks I'm overreacting. He usually does. He proposes that perhaps the man had a very sound excuse for his neglect. Perhaps the animal was safer in the box than where he was prior to his abduction. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perrrrrrrhaps.

Perhaps that doesn't change the fact that he was whimpering in a box across from my office. Someone was careless somewhere down the line and I am so tired of seeing animals suffer because of inconsiderate people.

Life IS Good

It has been brought to my attention that I have known some very dear people for a very long time. Thanks Matt. I'm ignoring the oldness factor and focusing on the positive here, which we will get to at some point.

Growing up my mother moved us around a good bit. I swear she was a gypsy. I know I didn't have it as bad as some, but I hated it none-the-less. My Dad was never around, but my mom's abusive jerk of a boyfriend instead. He stalked us across states! We moved when I was eight. Again when I was nine. When I was ten. Then when I was fourteen.

All through high school she talked about moving elsewhere. I dreaded it. I couldn't wait until I turned eighteen so I could stay right where I was. Any place would do. I just wanted to stay somewhere, and know someone longer than a year or two. So, you see my issues with moving.

Traveling is one thing, but leaving for good is still not my cup of tea. I have major baggage in that area. Despite my knowledge and power to keep in touch, I tend to regress into that eight, nine, ten year old kid. When we moved I never saw or talked to any of those people ever again. Ever. It was like whole worlds were left behind, including my father. I knew they still existed without me, and that ticked me off.

The fact is that I never felt like I knew anyone. Not really. As a lot of teenagers do, I became severely depressed in high school. I had tons of friends, but just didn't accept that any of them truly cared about me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that if I left that world would go on. Without missing a beat. Without missing me. Peachy.

So, there I was. Angry. Convinced I was separated from all the normal people. Normal being those who'd known each other since kindergarten. All the drama, right? All mine was internal, but it was still drama. That's the number one reason I do NOT miss being a teenager. Too many hormones warping your view of the world.

The last time we moved I was fourteen, and somewhere along the way I quit being so freaking' hormonal and self centered. Thank God. I managed to stay in touch with my best friend from Junior High. We only moved about forty-five minutes away from our last "place of residents" that time, and by "in touch" I mean inseparable.

Senior year I could even pass for happy! I was voted class clown and most talented...which is supposed to mean something. All I know for sure is I'm right where I want to be. I have friends/soul mates that I can not and will not live without. God willing.

Maybe knowing the source of an issue really does help you cope. Well, at least adjust. I'm pretty happy knowing why I'm so screwed up, but I still don't want to move. Ever. I have my husband person, a little house on an acre of land, my friends and momentarily stalled out gypsy family. I'm content to travel the globe, but always come back home.

Tonight Tonight

I love girls' nights. Given, they're usually only myself, one of two other gals and one of our three husbands, but it's a treasured event. I seriously go through withdrawals if we miss a week.

I have a few individuals I refer to as soul-mates, and most of them are girls.

List O' Soul Mates

Todd: husband person
Jodi: friends since we were eleven
Ari: friends since we were fourteen
Annie: also friends since we were fourteen

I know I use the term in a manner other than usually directed, but it works. Thus, girls' night is a glorious occasion. I can not live without these people. Breathe? Maybe. Live? Not a chance. We can spend large spans of time apart, but there's something that keeps us wound up in each others lives. We were simply meant to be.

This evening will consist of Ari and I crafting and yapping ourselves into oblivion. She's making the long trek to my place and good times shall be had. Watching my husband attempt to be polite, and escape the estrogen filled living room at the same time, is reason enough to look forward to such gatherings.

Life is good when it's simple.

Gotta head to work!

Handy Dandy Notebook

This chaos of mine comes in waves, and it is almost entirely self inflicted. Who's got the time?! I feel like a Lewis Carol character.

The White Rabbit, desperately scrambling to keep his head.


Alice, stretched too thin, reminding herself that her very good advice is useless when ignored.


There are simply not enough hours in the day to accomplish all this stuff I get myself into. I just find it hard to tell nice people no. Even if they request something completely ridiculous, I acquiesce. Strolling casually into overwhelming situations has become a favorite past time of mine. I feel like my head is hanging by a thread.


This little guy, both adorable and juvenile, is my newest attempt to remain sane and semi-organized. Yes. I have a little notebook addiction. Although, they each serve very separate functions. The moleskin is for brainstorming and sketching. I have another for writing. This one shall be an external hard drive of sorts. So I don't crash and lose it all.

So far my list consists of:
1. fishy post card swap (cause I love me some swap-bot)
2. Halloween sculpey creations
3. a new painting to replace one I sold(bittersweet)
4. three owlies
5. four watercolors of cats
6. one watercolor of a dog
7. a watercolor of my supervisor's baby
8. a commission I DON'T EVEN WANT TO TALK ABOUT!
9. a watercolor of some munchkin I've painted before

Not to mention cleaning my house and getting Kitty's radiator replaced. Yes, I name my vehicles. Laugh if you want. I love her.

Self Inflicted Torture

As an artist, I'm constantly questioning myself. Normally my queries pertain to subject matter and artsy fartsy things. Prussian or cobalt? Panel or canvas? Lately I've been asking, "Why do I do this to myself?!".

Commissions are good. Don't get me wrong. I love to get my art out there. It thrills me to the core when something I've made makes someone else happy. Thrills me! What doesn't thrill me is when someone flatters me, gets me to agree to paint something sometime and then lets me in on the insanely boring, faux finishing idea they have. Then it's too late. I'm obligated. I'd be a mean person if I told them their idea sucked like a hoover, and I'd rather eat a live crustacean than paint it for them.

I am too nice. I really need some classes in saying no. If I would think for a second that this person doesn't truly understand art, that they might think I paint flowers(gag/puke) or landscapes(hack), I might not get into these situations. I agree to things and then find out how deep a hole I've dug.

As Ari so delicately put it. I'm an artist! Not Martha Stewart!!!

Involuntary Manslaughter

I almost killed a man this morning. It was inadvertent of course, but it was funny as heck. He escaped unharmed, except for a possible bruised ego.

Stepping out my office door to retrieve something from my Jeep, I encountered a man, probably in his his mid-thirties. He had a kind face and was heading toward his truck. One of those huge flat bed, extended cab work trucks. The kind usually packed with eight large, muddy booted men. He glanced at me as I walked onto the sidewalk, and then before safely leaving the sidewalk he double-took. There-in lies the rub.

While "checking me out" a second time, those clunky steel-toes of his wandered right off the edge of the sidewalk, sending him toppling. He landed right slap on the grill/hood of his truck! I contained my laughter. I couldn't conceal my Cheshire grin, though.

There was a guy sitting in the truck too. He cracked up and shouted, "Well hell Charlie! Ain't you seen a girl before?!". The stumbly fellow looked at me, at my Jeep, back at me and smiled.

I managed to get my passenger door opened before I let out a blast of laughter. This was not my original destination, but it would do. I felt it necessary to hide my face if I were going to laugh at this silly man.

As he threw his white monstrosity into reverse he waved and smiled. I returned the smile, but had my hands full at this point, heading back to my office door.

Considering my curls today, it may have been a second glance to see if I was Medusa. However, my husband will hear that I almost killed a man with my stunning good looks.

Power & Glory

Alright people. I'm aware that here in blogger world we're all respectful of one another's beliefs and whatnot. By respectful, I mean that I normally refrain from blogging for Jesus(plus the thought of this just kills me). Depending on the flavor of the post many, if not all, of you would be bored to tears. However, I've found something I must share, in order to gather opinions.

A friend of mine gave me this book on c.d. It's called Flabbergasted. So, I've only listened to a little of it, and am not totally sure what I think yet. I haven't gotten much past the character building part, but it's funny so far.

The last part I heard before getting to work this morning was an interesting conversation. This one character had just been pulled over for speeding, and had managed to wrangle the police officer into a conversation. What kind of car would Jesus drive? That was the conversation. I c-r-a-c-k-e-d up!

First they pondered Jesus in a Lincoln, or something equally as ginormous and supposedly fancy. Then they did it. They roped me into listening to the rest of that possibly not-so-interesting novel. I believe it was the cop that offered that Jesus would drive an old muscle car. For all the power and glory.

It makes me think of that old song. My Own Personal Jesus. Anyway, I can so see Jesus in an old Chevelle. All cammed up and sparkly...with racing stripes. I'm usually a Ford or Mopar gal myself, but Chevelles are pretty powerful and glorious. Don't cha think? ^__^

Randomness Ensues

I had every intention of telling you all about the conference I attended in Louisville this past week, and all the cool stuff I heard, saw and consumed. Alas, I'm back to the real world and too overloaded to focus on any one thing.

Please accept a few random photos and brief food reviews as a legitimate post. I'll write something entertaining when I have more brain power to offer.

First up? Food was awesome! We ate at Jarfi's, Lynn's Paradise Cafe, and The Grape Leaf-who doesn't have a site apparently. All so good. Vegetarian wonderfulness. Om nom nom. Well, Lynn's wasn't exactly veggie friendly, but the quirkiness of the joint made up for it. We went there for breakfast anyhow, and that's not really a meaty meal.

Next subject! This guy is lying around on Fourth Street in down town Louisville. Not sure what happened to the rest of him. He's wearing a giant conical hat. He reminded me of the door knockers from Labyrinth.

And then...Todd accompanied me on a visit to the Muhammad Ali Center on Friday. In addition to his amazing story, there was all this great youth art about hopes and dreams. It was thousands of little four inch blocks plastering the walls. I so plan on getting some of the kids at our shelter to do some strength art work, and we'll make our own.^__^

Ooh, and I made yet another owlie. I actually made two, but Polky here's the only one I photographed. He was for my sister, and I have accepted the fact that he will inevitably end up an eyeless chew toy. Alone and blind in a corner. Her rotten kitties, Zoe and Chloe, are twin Siamese. They are the epitome of Si and Am from Lady & The Tramp. F-U-Z-Z-Y E-V-I-L I tell you.

To wrap it up, I've recently joined a handmade swappy thing called swap-bot. I completed my first swap and shipped it off to some chick in Canada. It was a handmade bookmark swap. Since she likes hedgehogs I water colored this little guy. He's kind of a rip off from the Russian animation Hedgehog In The Fog. Seriously awesome. Apparently all Russian animation rocks your socks.

Yeah. Told you it was gonna be random.

The Good, The Bad & The Quirky

The past two days have been extremely random. So, this blog will be too. I have about a million things to vent and have to go to bed like now. You've been warned.

Have you ever been completely blown away by someone, and wondered how you got through life without knowing them, or the light they bring to this dark little world of ours? There's a definite possibility that I'm completely oblivious, but maybe not. Let's see.

Has anyone else heard of Kevin Carroll? He was a guest speaker this morning at this conference. The guy is freakin' awesome. Maybe I think so because we share the same inspiration. Resilience. If you haven't already, read his books! They are essentially children's books for adults! Seriously. Check it out.

All in all, the conference is going well. Besides being sick, not having much of a voice and having to socialize with a million and one folks it's been pleasant. Not to mention pretty interesting. Really, the socializing is the worst of it.

Anyone who knows me will say that I'm an outgoing, friendly gal. Right Ari?^__^ Yet, the level of antisocial tendencies I harbor within are undeniable. I try to smile and not shy away from large, LOUD groups of people, but it hurts me on the inside. Especially if they are touchy, feely ones.

Apparently, I give off some sort of "Come touch my hair and talk about me in third person" old lady pheromone. I swanee. Curly hair attracts little blue haired women from all over the joint. Every trip in the elevator goes a little like this.

Blue Haired Variety: "Would ya look at that hair! She's just adorable. How old are you honey?"
Me: "Twenty-six. Thank you."
Blue Haired Variety: "NO! I thought you were maybe 18! My goodness. Just adorable. Isn't she adorable?!"

After everyone concurs that I'm adorable they continue to talk about me like I'm not there. I just smile. They're sweet and all, but geesh. I'm sure all you girls know how nice is it to be lumped into a group with chunky babies and whimpering puppies. Cute? It just erks me.

Oh! Tomorrow Todd and I are going to the Muhammad Ali Center! Such an amazing man.

Okay. Good night people.

Sleepy Girl

Well folks...I'm too tired to type anything in the least bit witty(if I ever have)or coherent. So, I'm sticking with the facts.

I'm in Kentucky. It's beautiful as always. Training and this head cold(aka The Crud) are kicking my butt. I so want to ditch some part of this conference, and take my husband to the Louisville Slugger Museum/Factory. You can get bats with your names on them!!!

Oh, and life would just be no fun if I wasn't a huge moron. I forgot to cash my check before leaving for another state. Yeah. That's right. My check that can only be cashed at that ridiculously local bank o' mine. Yep. That's the one.

It's great to be me. Thank God my husband finds me spontaneous and entertaining, rather than forgetful and scatter-brained. Thanks for his paycheck too!

Good night cruel world. xoxo

Seemingly Perfect

Have you ever met one of those people that you love and want to kill at the same time? That's Cheryl-the chick that got married on Sunday. She's ridiculously inventive, sweet and beyond adorable. Just when I think I'm equally as awesome-she pulls out another stop.

The wedding was really beautiful and actually enjoyable! I normally hate weddings, but hers was the exception. It was outside of course, and the weather was perfect. The ceremony consisted of a million bright colors that shouldn't go together, but they did and it was gorgeous. It was also overflowing with adorable Philippino children, which can never be a bad thing. The cuteness was numbing.

The reception was even fun, and I don't drink. Good vegetarian food and stupid games that made people look like complete morons. A great spectator sport.

To top the whole thing off, she made her own wedding cake! It wasn't ghetto either. It was all home-made stripey tasty. It wasn't Ace of Cakes good, but it was decent. Just enough to be endearing, as usual.

So, yeah. My "I'm the bestest girly" syndrome causes me anguish. What about you? Hate any seemingly perfect people?

The Snotness Monster

I know. I know. Snot is every one's favorite subject, and it's ladylike to boot. I just thought you might be interested to know that I'm dying a slow and annoying death!!

Around these parts this is lovingly referred to as The Crud. I'm pretty sure I caught it from the little snot-nosed punk that came in my office last week. He insisted that the chick at the court house told him the place he was looking for was my office. I told him who we were, what we did and that I'd never heard of the organization he was looking for. I also offered to let him use my phone book.

Despite the sign in the window and my opposition, he was certain he was in the right place. Dude refused to look up the place he needed and just kept talking. Like perhaps he thought I would magically morph into this mythical agency he sought, and would solve all his problems with my magic wand. Ugh.

So, here I am. It's a beautiful seventy-seven degrees outside, and my nose is running. Sniff. Cough. Sigh.

On the brighter side, this will be a wonderful weekend. The best friend is coming down from Michigan. We're going to a wedding in Tennessee on Sunday. Snot or no snot, I'm going to have an awesome time. I'm determined.

Have a great weekend Internet people. I love you, even if Todd does make fun of me for my "virtual" relationships. You are real. I do believe. I do believe.

All Things Kentucky

Any chance to escape to Kentucky is a welcomed one. It amazes me the loyalty I have to a place I left when I was eight. Eighteen years I've lived elsewhere, but somehow I'm still a Kentucky girl.

I don't think it has anything to do with how wonderful a place is or anything. I really loved living in Florida, and I truly think of Alabama as home. There's just something about Kentucky. And in October!!!! The air just smells like football games, drive-ins and hide-n-go-seek in the dark. Makes me have to pee just thinking about it. ^__^

So, Wednesday of next week I leave for a conference in Louisville. It's about 100 miles from where we used to live when I was a kid, and my sister. I can't wait! All work and training aside, we are going to have so much fun. It's a fun place. Lots to do and see. I've finally convinced my husband of this, and he's now decided to come with me. Yay!

My sister and her fiance are driving down Saturday night for dinner, and I predict good times.

An Escapist: To Be or Not To Be

I'm more often than not a happy-go-lucky gal. Woman would most likely be the best term to use there, but I refuse to admit I'm actually twenty-six!! Okay. So, in an attempt to maintain my preferred relaxed demeanor, I often suppress things. Much like my age. See? I just did it again! Geesh!

I believe it's a form of escapism. Due to dealing with excessive amounts of "crap" in my life, I've developed this way of dealing/not dealing with things. Seems to work out alright until I get that snowball effect going.

Life at work has become quite a snowball. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I'm the director of an outreach program for youth, and the clerical assistant, here at our lowly nonprofit. I love what we do, but my works been a bit questionable for me lately. I've been seriously thinking about severing my own head with a sharpie, in attempt to relieve some stress. Not just in that last long hour either.

I've been extremely stressed about all the stuff I have to do and the fact that there's not enough time to do it. I have two full-time positions as one. And I'm salary. We're a nonprofit. I understand, but it's been getting to me.

So, I became completely discouraged, didn't want to do any of it and started looking for another job. See? COMPLETE AND TOTAL ESCAPISM!!!

Yesterday, I finally spilled my guts to my boss. I didn't cry at first. I worked up to that. She reacted remarkably well. I was certain I'd be looking for another job, or at least be bumped to part time, which I can't afford.

We discussed the root of the problem, and she offered a solution that I didn't know was an option. Things are looking up! Perhaps escapism is not the best way to deal (or not to deal) with things after all. I'm amazed!

Side Note: My boss is pretty awesome.

Multipurposing Moron

I have come to the conclusion that I have the attention span of a Jack Russel on crack. I get all interested in something and am obsessed for about a month or two. Then it magically disappears. I'm bouncing off the walls here folks.

Finishing things isn't my problem. I've finished a few billion owlies, a few scarves, lots of little clay thingies, a gazillion paintings(which aren't really my problem-that's the one thing I never fizzle out on),and lots of other stuff I've become excited about. It's just that my obsession comes in waves.

Last year, my husband dubbed me a closet knitter. He'd find me sneak-knitting at work, in my Jeep in the driveway, in the bathroom...Seriously. I did it anywhere and everywhere. The urge would hit and off I'd go. Knitting like a mad woman. I've just picked that one up again.

A few months ago it was little polymer clay incense burners. I went nuts. I think everyone I know has at least two somewhere. Themed accordingly. You like robots? A'ight. Robot incense burner it is! Octopi? Sure!

Now, it's a bookmark here and there. I think I feel a little clay jack-o-lantern obsession coming on. I'm also knitting again, too. I already mentioned that, huh?

My problem with this is that I feel like I'm flighty. I come back to the stuff eventually. It just takes time. Maybe I just need lots to keep me entertained? I do learn new stuff during my hiatuses. I do too much to do it all-all the time.

So, maybe it's okay.