The pic's from Halloween, the rant's from yesterday

I have these random skinned spots on my knuckles this morning. Why? Was I boxing in my sleep? Did I win? What the hell?

I try not to talk about my ex too much here. There's a few reasons. One - the last time I talked about him in great detail, he freaked the fuck out and I ended up taking down my last journal. Of course, he was reading that one and it was right after we split up and bleh. Whatever. Second, it tends to raise my blood pressure just thinking about the man. And no, not in a fun way. If he raised my blood pressure that way, I'd still be married to him, now wouldn't I??

Yesterday, he and I had a small run-in over the general care and feeding of our child* , which is really the only thing we have issues over anymore. Of course, it's really the only thing we SHOULD have an issue over, isn't it? Hm, funny how I still feel like he should have a say in any part of my life. Those ties, they take a while to sever. Remember this, it's important later.

Each time he and I have a problem, the argument takes less and less time to dissolve and I find myself less and less rattled by it. I find that I am more willing to tell him to take a flying leap,both more and less willing to just tell him what he wants to hear (huh?) and less apt to be upset about it later.

For example, when he challenges my parenting, I pretty much tell him to not even start with me. He may not like or agree with my parenting, but the fact is, I AM a parent. I do this full-time. I'm the one making the decisions and dealing with the emotional, irrational, insane 15 year-old girl in the house every day. I'm the one who has to play middle man between him and his child because he can't seem to figure out how to talk to her. Sometimes I feel like I'm parenting both of them, as a matter of fact. Don't tell me "be a parent" just because I don't parent like YOU.

I'm more willing to just say "Ok, I'm sorry this isn't going your way, I'll have her call you" and hang up than try to fix things, because finally, FINALLY, after years and years and years of banging my head against this particular brick wall, I've figured out that nothing I say will fix a goddamn thing. HOwever. I'm also not just going to sit there and apologize if I really don't feel like I did anything wrong. I used to do that. I used to apologize and cry and throw myself under the bus just so that he'd stop yelling. Fuck that noise. If I didn't do anything wrong, you can suck my ass, I'm not apologizing. And stop yelling, you're scaring the cats.

Do I get annoyed because he's disrupted my life AGAIN and tried to make me into his vision of what he thinks I should be AGAIN? Yes. Do I get annoyed because sometimes he has a point, but that doesn't mean he has to be such a jerk about how he makes it?? Yes. Do I let it make me cry and drag me down for the rest of the day anymore? Good lord no.

See? I will never be the person the Ex wants me to be. He claims that he loved (loves) me just the way I am, yet every time we fought, everything that came out of his mouth said differently. Everything I did was wrong, wrong, wrong. You can only be told you're wrong so many times, y'know? You can only hear apologies like "I'm sorry you misunderstood me" and "I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt" so many times. After a while, it takes a toll on a person. The toll it took on me was that I started to believe that I was the bad person in the marriage. The first thing I did was become the bad person in the marriage. Needless to say, that didn't help matters much.

Then I tried therapy and drugs. While that helped me become a happier person, it didn't help my marriage any. I realized that the problem wasn't really me. It was the marriage. So I left.

It's taken me two years of living without the ex to finally be able to figure out a lot of things about him and how to deal with him. The biggest one is that I will never, ever be able to change how he feels and I think he hates that. I believe that when he's angry he wants someone to be able to make him un-angry and life doesn't work that way. The only person who can make you un-angry is YOU. So finally, 16 years after meeting this man, I've figured out how to say, "I'm sorry you feel that way", and walk away and not worry about it.

My therapist once gave me an excellent visualization tool for dealing with other people. She said to think of other people's problems as marbles. That when they try to hand you their problems you can look at it like a marble in your hand and say "Ok, I can put this in my pocket and deal with it later" or "Ok, this is my marble now, I'll keep it in my hand" or "Dude...that's not my marble" and toss it. Three guesses what I used to do.

I've gotten irreperably off track here, but my point is, the Ex can push my buttons like nobody else and I hate it. I'm one of those people who hates to cry in front of anybody. I was embarrassed to cry at my own father's funeral, so c'mon. Gradually, over the past two years, I've found and disabled each and every one of my buttons. Some of them were easy, because frankly my life is none of his business.

Unfortunately, the parenting button sort of has to stay enabled because of the kiddo. It just pisses me off that it's the one area where I feel like, no I'm not perfect, but I can kind of point to my kid, my intelligent, funny, gourmet cooking, snappy dressing, wise-cracking, animal-loving, atheist, Janis Joplin-singing, movie-memorizing, calls me mama and tells me she loves me in public kid and say "Dude...I AM a parent. A good one. Bite my ass."

*Kid stayed the weekend at a friend's house. We don't necessarily approve of all the goings-on at this friend's house, but she gets to go on a conditional kind of basis. Kid's cell phone died. Charger was forgotten at home. I had back up numbers, ex did not. Unfairness and safety issues of only one parent being able to get ahold of child brought up. While I agree, general dickitude was not appreciated, because kiddo had made an effort during the weekend to call me twice a day and let me know where she was, who she was with and what was up. There was only one misunderstanding about what was going to happen on Monday (no school) that led to the whole blow up.

Three random stories that might explain a lot about me

My grandparents used to take me on vacation every summer. We usually went to either Florida or Texas - something that was a two day drive from New Orleans. I've been to Disney World, Busch Gardens, Astro World, Six Flags, a whole bunch of caves in Georgia and one year, in a burst of creativity, we went to Tennessee.

Anyway, on one of the years we went to Florida, a fan belt broke in my grandparents' Cadillac and we ended up stuck on the side of the road. I can't picture my Poppa hiking for help, but this was about 25 years ago, so I guess he did. Regardless, a Florida state trooper ended up coming to our rescue by crossing over the median and picking us up.

Now, see I don't question authority unless authority gives me a reason to do so. So I said "Um, sir? How come you get to cross the grass and we don't??"

He looked down from under the brim of his Smokey the Bear hat at the cute (I was kind of cute) obnoxious little blonde girl in front of him and, to his credit, said:

"Well, that's because it's real swampy here in Florida and we know all the safe places to cross and y'all might not. We don't want y'all to get stuck."

Given a perfectly reasonable explanation for an injustice, I'll go about my merry way.

Of course, years later, I realized that the real answer was "because we're the police and you're not."

It's up to you to decide whether "years later" means when I was in high school or, like, last week.

********

My dad had this friend named Tommy. Tommy was an incredible artist. He had a red face and a stutter and was one of the funniest guys I've ever met. He died of stomach cancer when kiddo was a toddler.

Tommy is why I will never, ever, ever have Botox.

See, here's the thing. Anytime my dad and Tommy would be hanging out, drinking beer and bullshitting (something that they wouldn't shoo me away from, thank you Dad) the worst thing Tommy could come up with, the vilest poison, the most evil thing ever??? Was botulism.

"That can's dented! Botulism!!"

"Wait, how old are those chips?? No don't eat those! You could get botulism!!"

"Red sky at night, Sailor's delight, Red sky at morning, BOTULISM!!!"

So yeah, no botulism in the forehead for me, thanks though.

**********

My grandparents had this ranch style house that had that most useless of features - the formal living room. It, and the formal dining room to which it was attached, pretty much only got used for Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, for storing random things and for when my best friend Carrie and I were playing.

During one of the holidays, my grandmother made the mistake of bending over at the waist to fix the cushions on the couch. My dad snapped a picture of her butt.

"Whit-NEY!!!"
"What??"
"Did you just take a picture of my butt??"
"Why the hell would I take a picture of THAT??"

Come Christmas, there was a small box under the tree marked:

To: Ma
From: Whit

It rattled

My grandma opened it up. It was full of puzzle pieces.

"Whitney, what the hell is this??"
"Well, put it together, I'm not gonna tell you."

She put it together, and it was a picture of her, caught in the act of bending over fixing the cushions on the couch. Not a picture of her face, in other words.

Sometimes a little bubbles over

I am a terrible person.

When I come across a blog written by someone with cancer*, I get a little stab of jealousy and, yes, ANGER when I find out they're doing well or their treatment is working or they're recovered or in remission.

I get annoyed by all the pink crap for breast cancer when there's nothing out there for colon cancer and 100% of the population has a colon.

I'm pissed off that breast cancer has a walk and nobody else does. Is it because boobs are sexy and pancreases aren't??

I hate that one of my favorite writers is beating cancer right now and I can't just feel unadulterated joy for her like I should. I should be happy for her. I should poor a glass of wine and put on a silly hot pink hat and hug my kid and kiss my cats and paint a colorful self-portrait and then lift something big and heavy and lift a big ol' double-finger salute to cancer because she got away, so NYEH!!

But I can't. Because I'm still pissed off that it wasn't my dad.

This anger eats at me and it will consume me if I let it, and that makes me a terrible, terrible person.

*I hate the term "cancer blog", because goddammit, you are more than your disease.

snippet

The scene - kiddo has just put lowlights in my hair (because she doth rock in all things hair) and I've just gotten done washing and blow-drying my hair. ACTION!

"You rock!"
"Does it look good?? Is it what you wanted? Let me see!"
"Looks great!"
"Come here!! Let me see, lemme seeeee!!!!"
"Hang on, I have to put on pants!!"
".....I'll wait."

mutiny

All three cats are on the couch and I'm sitting on the floor. Something is seriously askew in my house.

flurry

It's 35 degrees outside and raining/sleeting/flurrying and since I live in Austin, Texas this means the entire city is shut down.

Good GOD, I love this town.

Anyway, I'm sitting here, with freshly blow-dryed hair (which of course looks fabulous, since I'm not going anywhere) wearing make-up, a fluffy purple turtle-neck sweater, fuzzy gray sweatpants and kelly green socks. I'm working on my third cup of coffee and wondering if it's too early to bust out the grilled cheese sandwiches. Whoo!!! Snow day!!

The kiddo, should you be wondering, is in Round Rock with her buddies and has today off anyway, since it's Martin Luther King day.

This means I have another day to myself. I staved off stir-craziness yesterday by going for a run and doing a quick work errand. Today I think I'll go tromping around in the cold. I don't drive in the ice, because I'm a southern girl and I can't, but I'm a little weird in that when it gets obscenely cold, I like to bundle up and go for a walk. Hey, I get to experience true cold one day a year, so why the hell not??

I'm watching "Charmed" right now and I know I've asked it before, but who the hell dressed Alyssa Milano on this show? Seriously.

I had to change the channel - the wife beater with lace and button straps and bizarre corset contraption ensemble was bothering me. And this is coming from a woman wearing kelly green socks, y'all. HGTV, I love Carol Duvall's craft show, it's so cheesy and earnest.

When it's cold outside, I get the urge to cook. I want to make pots of beans, pans of brownies, pies, quiches, casseroles, stews, cookies, cakes, soups, chili, souffles, complicated gourmet whizbang recipes and simple rustic throw it together and let it sits. Why? I do not know. But that's the urge. Right now I have a pound of bacon and a bag of lentils calling, calling, caaaaaalling me to throw them together. Lentils cook so very quickly, I think I'll wait till later.

But I am pretty hungry and it's never too early for a grilled cheese sandwich, right??

Blurb

Football, especially Saints football, makes me miss my grandparents' house. A lot of the Sundays of my youth were spent in the low-ceiling, dark-panelled den of their east New Orleans ranch style house, watching football game after football game, listening to my grandmother yell incomprehensible criticisms at the screen.

"Sack him! Sack him!!"
"Ma...that's not the quarterback, and he doesn't have the ball, so they can't touch him, much less sack him."
"I don't care! I don't like him! He's on the wrong team! SACK HIM!"
"......"
"Want another beer, Whit?"
"God, yes."

Expect lots of edits

Hee - Pee Wee suggested I cut out one Starbucks a week to save for my tattoo. That's actually a really good idea, except my current budget is set where I only go to Starbucks ONCE a week! HEE.

Oh, and I don't get too upset about suggestions, 'cause a)it means you're reading, b)I don't have to listen and c)as long as you're polite, who cares?? Now if you start saying stuff like "Goddamn, you need to loose wait and get rid of all thos cats, your a lozer you suck!!!1111!!", then maybe I won't be so nice. Otherwise, suggest away!!

So, the red wine's been boughted, the chili's on the stove, the Oreos are on the counter and I'm sitting here, flipping back and forth between the pre-game and "Myth-Busters." I can't figure out what's a bigger insult- the fact that my dad's not alive to see the Saints go to the playoffs, or the cheesy "24" tie-in they're doing right now. Discuss.

Y'all - even if you don't give a fuck about football, even if you HATE it, root for my boys, OK?? They're due.

Cats shouldn't eat rubberbands

I stopped at Starbucks this morning for some coffee and one of those apple empenadas that I know they'll get rid off entirely too quickly (fuckers), and the woman who went through the door and quite rudely did NOT hold it for me was one of those women who was dressed in a suit and pumps, despite the fact that it was Friday and this is Austin. I was slightly annoyed and intimidated until, while standing behind her in line, I looked over her shoulder and saw that while she was trying to look important by using her stylus to mess with her PDA, she was actually playing Collapse.

She did have on some really great jewelry though.

So look, I know nice people don't admit to reading it, but dude...what the fuck is up with Trainwrecks?? I hope somebody hacked it and it's not a case of another cool site shutting down because they lost their balls. Seriously dude. All they did was make fun of sites. That happens on LiveJournal and Diaryland and every other damn site in the world every damn day. I need my trainwrecks. I will, well, I will be mightily pissed is what I will do, if they've shut themselves down!!!

grumble mutter grumble

My fabulous boyfriend bought me a white noise machine for Christmas and the noise I like best is "rainstorm", because it works like a charm. The problem is that now, every time it rains during the day, I respond like a toddler in a moving car and fall right the fuck asleep. My boss is not amused. Anyway, right now it's raining off and on, so I'm like a narcoleptic over here. Of course, the wine may have something to do with that.

I've been obsessed lately with getting another tattoo. The problem is, that costs money (which is something I'm trying not to spend too much of) and it keeps me from donating plasma (something I'm trying to keep as an option for money making.) Hmph. I'm constantly thwarted in my efforts to turn my body into a billboard. This much real estate - it's a shame really.

Mom, be quiet.

OK, it's 12:30, I'm most of the way through a bottle of red. Talk to y'all later.

Sideways*

Dude. I've got all kinds of stuff climbing around in my brain right now, but can't seem to shake any of out in any kind of coherent fashion. This is why y'all get memes, just so's ya know. I get 30 squillion ideas in my head and they all crowd up at my fingertips when I sit down to write and I just sit there like a character in an RPG, sort of rocking back and forth. I like that image much better than "like a mental patient", thank you. Anyway, because I do not have Jane's mad segue skilz, I present you with some random, disconnected paragraphs.

So, this mommyblogging thing?? What, exactly, is the big deal? I mean, Dooce annoys the shit out of me and I think Amalah's cute but a little delusional, and yeah some of the stuff that's actually written about the children walks that invasion of privacy line, but this is all the same stuff that moms have been telling each other for years and years. The difference is, now they're telling each other over the internet instead of a party line, so it's the WORLD listening in, rather than just the operator. Oh, and they're shedding light on the idea that parenting isn't always pudding and kisses. Well, DUH. I just don't see the big deal from either end - why it has suddenly become a cottage industry to write about your children, or why some people find it so incredibly distasteful that they're doing so.

Hm, a jump from babies to Jef - yikes. No, no, there will be none of that. He's just the next subject on the list. Everything on the Jef front is going beautifully. I'm not picking out china patterns or anything, but I'm happy. I'll just bask in that for a while. His work schedule has rotated around so that he's working weekends for the next couple of weeks, but come the first weekend of February, it's on! Or...something. ?

The Saints are in the playoffs. I know, y'all just pulled a muscle with the eyerolling, but dude!! DUDE!! So if any of y'all are in the Austin area on Saturday, I'll be watching the game. c'mon by, I'll make queso, bring your own wine.

My kid doth rock. She failed Algebra II last semester (she also worked her ass off in it and is taking honors Algebra II as a freshman, so I didn't give her too much grief) and was planning on switching to regular (non-honors??) Algebra II this semester. However, the teacher told her that if she can make a 76 in the class this semester, she'll get credit for the whole year. I'm not entirely sure how that works, but when kiddo told me that, I said "I think you can do that." She said "yep, so do I." I'm so proud of her, because she's a tenacious little pain in the butt.

I'm still discovering strange habits that I had from my marriage - things I didn't buy, places I didn't go - because the ex didn't like them. I've been divorced for 2 years and finally bought some soap other than Dial white. How long does this take to go away?? The habits and the consciousness of them??

I want to make some of this, but I'm not sure what scent. Lavender seems the most obvious. Sounds like field trip time. Mom??

*The title is taken from the pictures, which is not supposed to be sideways, yet is. The magic of blogger. That pic, by the way, is of some bathroom grafitti that I discovered at the first happy hour I went to after I filed for divorce. It just seemed kind of fitting.

boys

I'm getting tired of leaving my boyfriend in Dallas, you guys. OK, well, that sums up the entry for today. Bye - turn out the lights on the way out, would you?

Seriously, this long-distance stuff sucks. At first it didn't bother me, because I'm one of those people who needs lots of space in a relationship. The idea of having a boyfriend who lived 200 miles away was actually sort of comforting. There was no way we'd get all up in each other's business, no way I'd feel like he was always in my bubble, and no way he'd feel like I was always in his.

Jef and I have very similar needs when it comes to space. Neither one of us "transitions" well - mine is getting home from work, his is waking up in the morning - and we both have times when we just need to be away. He's said that one of the things he likes about me is that I let him "go to [his] cave." I told him it's easy, because I can totally identify and assume that when I need to go hide, he'd give me the same respect. So far, so good.

Anyway, being the neurotic cave-dwellers we are, a 200-mile separation makes that whole space thing pretty damn easy. But now, it's getting a little old. We've spent 4 days in a 700 square foot apartment and all I can think at the end of it is "I have to go home already??"

Admittedly, that's without the pressure of a work schedule. Our weekends do tend to function a little like mini-vacations. But folks who know me know that I get tired of being around other people after a while. Especially in close quarters. I was not built for boat-dwelling or submarines or camping or maybe even being around other human beings on a regular basis.

But we've gotten to a point where the distance is just frustrating. At the risk of y'all getting knocked over by the pure romance of this statement, I gotta tell you - we don't bug each other's shit.

We've talked about moving to the same city and the thing that makes the most sense is for him to move down here - which is great, but not really feasible until September.

This leads me down a path of self-doubt. I'm totally comfortable with the idea of being in the same city (yes! start packing! why aren't you here yet?) and I've even thought about moving to Dallas (sorry mom, but if it weren't for the kiddo, I probably would) but for some reason, the idea of him moving here for me makes me nervous.

Fact is, I'm not comfortable with the idea of somebody changing cities *for* another person, ever. It can lead to a lot of resentment and pain if the person who moves ends up not liking the new location. I know Jef hates Dallas and loves me - that's a good combination. But I don't have enough ego to think that I'm enough to make things OK if he has problems finding a job or a good place to live or anything interesting about Austin.

I don't know - that's September. We'll get there. But right now, I'm so tired of text messaging and 3 hour drives and going a month without seeing him because of his work schedule.

A year in pictures and a few words.

*cough* Not dead. Not sick. Not even really all that busy. Just dealing with a phenomenal case of the writing blahs over here. Everything I've wanted to write about was sort of gray and bleak and who wants that around the holidays? Nobody, that's who!! So I've just been sitting over in my corner, peeking in your virtual windows. Lovely tree, by the way.Christmas was good - met Jef's family, spent some time with my own, ate Christmas dinner at a restaurant (kind of by accident, actually) and both got and gave some wonderful presents. A rousing success, and New Year's is looking to be equally so. I'm heading up to Dallas this evening to spend the weekend on Jef's couch, playing Xbox and drinking beer. So while you're all dolled up, in pinchy shoes, sitting on a bar stool with some drunk slurring "Auld Lang Syne" in your ear, think about the fact that I'm sitting on my boy's couch, wearing penguin pajama pants, with a cat in my lap, killing zombies. Aaaw yeah.

Anyway, I try to look at each year as an opportunity to learn things and I think I've succeeded in that endeavor in 2006.

I've learned that the old cliche is true and you really can't judge a book by its cover; that the biggest liberal hippie freak may actually be a petty pain in the ass and the scariest-looking tattooed badass may be the biggest, squishiest softy you'll ever meet.

I've learned to how to drink coffee black.

I've learned that pain does have a purpose.

I've learned that kittens aren't really stupid so much as they're very, very forgiving.

I've learned that kittens can also get in some really strange places, and so can cats when they're trying to escape kittens.

I've learned that your heart can wish for two opposing things at the same time with equal strength and that when it does, you will feel like you're being ripped in half from the inside.

I've learned that despite the fact that my ex is a huge pain in the ass at times, I actually am grateful that he's in my life still. We have one of the better ex relationships out there and it seems to be improving as time goes by.

I've learned that I'm stronger and more resilient and more patient than I ever gave myself credit for, and that maybe every once in a while, I should cut myself a fucking break. Anybody wanna take bets on that happening??

I've learned that grief will hit you at the strangest times and memories are triggered by the most random things. Lamaze breathing was useless for me during labor, but it's been indispensable over the past year.

I've learned that red wine + flip flops + rock covered inclines = busted up skinned elbows. Ow.

Finally, I think the most important thing I learned was to follow my instincts. I don't trust myself as much as I should, but when I go ahead and listen to that little voice, it leads me out of bad situations and into some pretty good ones. This year, it helped me out a bunch.

2006 wasn't the best year I've ever had, but to go along with a couple of mind-numbing lows there were some really stellar highs, so I survived it and in the end, I guess that's all I can hope for, right?

Y'all know perfectly well I won't even be thinking about the internet while I'm in Dallas, so have a happy, safe, wonderful New Year's. Make sure you get your kiss at midnight and eat your cabbage and black-eyed peas on New Year's Day. Love you guys.

Laura

Lump of coal

I just can't really get into Christmas this year. For me, it's probably due that whole First Holidays Since The Dad Died thing. Funny how that works.

But I've noticed that I'm not the only person who's having trouble getting into the swing of things this year. I saw this list on another site that I have since closed because I'm a moron so I'm not going to link it, (sorry!) and we'll see if it helps push any holiday buttons.

Ho ho ho.

20+ Holiday Questions

Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?

Yes please. I like both of them. I like everything from fancy-schmancy home-made stuff to that nasty canned Borden crap in the can. Same for hot chocolate. This question does remind me of a conversation I had with Jef recently though.

Him: "Hey - I have a great eggnog recipe!"
Me: "Really?"
Him: "Yeah - bourbon and ice."

HA!

Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?

Wraps 'em. Unless it's a big super-duper suprise present, like a new bike or something, it gets wrapped.

Colored or white lights on tree/house?

Doesn't matter, as long as you're consistent. However if you're going to be inconsistent, go crazy. Live it up!! Cover the shrubs in blinking red and green lights and the roof in strings of blue and plant a plastic Santa up there and make him watch over a baby Jesus while Mickey and Minnie wrap presents and then cover the lawn in a giant net of white and buy all the damn blow up figurines at Home Depot and make the airport reroute planes around your ass because you confuse the pilots with your damn holiday landing strip of a driveway. Seriously, if you're gonna do tacky, don't do it half-ass, I say. Otherwise, just hang up one tasteful wreath and shut the fuck up.

Do you hang mistletoe?

Yep. But I'm paranoid about a berry falling off and one of my cats eating it and dying, so I put a plastic bag over it. Yep, I slipcover my Christmas decorations. I am 92, have some bridge mix.

When do you put your decorations up?

Anyday now.

What is your favorite holiday dish (non-dessert)?

Cranberry sauce - I make my own. I started doing that when I was married because I was the only person who ate it and I wanted to give it a shot. It's incredibly easy, tastes better and I don't have to smoosh out the ridges.

Biggest Christmas peeve?

That goddamn Little Drummer Boy song. And Christmas crap that goes up before Thanksgiving. And Christians who wig out because other religions actually exist and have holidays this time of year. And other religions that wig out because Christians might be forgetful, not intentionally asshole-ish. And people losing their holiday spirit in the mall and acting like dirtballs. In other words, everything except the food. HEH.

What is your favorite holiday dessert/treat?

Those damn sugar encrusted butter cookies that come in the giant tins that every vendor gives as swag every damn year that I swear are made in Satan's bakery. I love those things.

Favorite holiday childhood memory?

Carolling down Congress Avenue with my high school choir. Going to the Zilker tree. Seeing what my mom put in my stocking (she's the reason I'm stocking-obsessed.) Sitting down in the formal dining room at my grandparent's house for one of the three times a year we ever used it (Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas.)

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Sometimes, yeah. Most of the time we just let the kiddo open one, because her head was about to explode by that time.

Garlands or Tinsel?

Garlands yes, provided they're the skinny kind. Tinsel no, because I have cats and no desire to chase after them and pull shiny stuff out of their asses.

Snow: Love or Hate?

I live in central Texas. What is this "snow" of which you speak??

Can you ice-skate?

Dude. I can barely walk. Are you kidding?

Do you remember your favorite gift?

From my childhood? Uh, no. From adulthood, I'd have to say it was my camera.

What's the most important thing about the holidays to you?

Being with the folks I love. It sounds fakey, but honestly I would forego presents and all that other hooha. I'm happy to spend an evening with a bottle of wine and my boy and my kid and then spend Christmas day visiting my mom and my grandmom. Presents are lovely but I can buy my own sweaters. I think that's why a lot of people are out of sorts lately - so many of us do Christmas because it's what's expected of us, not because it's what we want to do. Gwen had a good thing last year where she polled her kids and asked them about their favorite parts and that's all they did. Next year, if I feel like I feel this year? I'm going to do The Gwen Thing. Because trying to do the whole caboodle and only doing it because it's "what's expected" just sucks the root. As well as the very life force right on out of you.

What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Going to the Zilker tree. Hanging out with my kiddo on Christmas Eve. Waking up Christmas morning and taking the whole present opening thing nice and slow and then taking a nap with the cats.

What tops your tree?

You do, baby...bow chicka wow. Sorry, that question just sounded awfully dirty. Usually, it's this kind of cool retro star from the Ex's childhood that he gave to kiddo when we got divorced. This year, I just do NOT have the patience for a real tree and kiddo is completely anti-fake tree, so we're getting a lawn flamingo to pile our presents under. You heard me. Don't be hatin'. Kind of hard to put a star on that, so he'll probably wear a Santa hat.

Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?

Giving. Don't get me wrong, I'm a brat, so I like getting stuff. But I love watching folks unwrap presents from me. It's pure narcissism, really.

Favorite Christmas song?

"Oh Come All Ye Faithful" and then "Riu Riu Chiu" HI!! Choir nerd!!

What do you want for Christmas?

Let's see. The materialistic whore list goes something like this:

one of these, this, this, a bottle of red and a pizza, some refills for my lint brush, a year's supply of cat litter, more socks (dude, am I eating them in my sleep, what the fuck??), a subscription to InStyle or Real Simple, some of these, a job for my boyfriend in Austin, some chocolate, a few v-neck long-sleeve t-shirts in assorted colors (seriously, those are damn handy), and somebody to help me clean my room.


The big, "I'd give it all up and wouldn't ask for anything else, ever, ever, ever again" list goes like this:

A cure for cancer, a reason for sites like this and this to not exist anymore, a total worldwide abolishment of papercuts and a final death knell on the phrase "think outside of the box."

HTML

HTML testing for the kid

italics
bold
underline
strikethrough
small text
large text
blinking text?

I'm teaching the kiddo some HTML stuff. Anybody else know any??

News Flash!

Immunity boosting tea smells like citrus hippy B.O.!!!

Ick.

I got nothin'

Because my sinuses are packed so full of goo that my nose is actually visibly swollen today and I've got a thousand and two things to do today, I present a meme! It's been around forever and ever, but I don't think I've ever answered it. Enjoy.

What were you doing ten years ago?

1996 - I was married, working at the Gas Pump Company, I had a 5 year-old, and we'd just bought a house.

What were you doing one year ago?

Getting used to being single. Spending what I knew was going to be his last Thanksgiving with my dad.

Five snacks I enjoy:

1. Cheddar cheese and Fritos
2. Blue cheese and Wheat Thins
3. Shiner bock and Whoppers (try it,it's good)
4. tuna, straight out of the can and saltines
5. apple and peanut butter


Five songs to which I know all the lyrics:

1. Joni Mitchell - Court and Spark, the whole album
2. B-52's - Love Shack
3. Duran Duran - The Reflex
4. The Eagles - Hotel California
5. Guns N' Roses - Welcome to the Jungle

Five things I would do if I were a millionaire:

1. Pay off all my stupid credit card debt
2. Buy a house
3. Set up college funds for kiddo and the Spud
4. Donate a big chunk of money to colon cancer research
5. Hand a couple of important people in my life some very large checks

Five bad habits:

1. Nail biting
2. dithering and indecision when I have a bunch of stuff to do
3. tailgating
4. depression impulse buying
5. boredom eating

Five things I like doing:

1. knitting
2. anything with my kid
3. anything with my mom
4. anything with Jef
5. Cooking

Five things I would never wear, buy or get new again:

1. Pleated pants
2. Demi-cup bras
3. side pony tails
4. a belly button ring
5. leg warmers (I WAS IN 6TH GRADE, PEOPLE!!)

Five favorite toys:

1. Jef. *cough*
2. those chopper dealies - like this. The "whomp whomp whomp" is very satisfying.
3. my collection of knitting needles and yarn
4. my camera
5. my cookbooks (Yes, I will sit down with a cookbook and a glass of wine and just read it. Yes, I am a freak.)

Holiday Cards

Hey there!!

Want a holiday card from me?

While I have like 5 readers, I'm gonna be ambitious and make cards. Send an email to lollylb - at - hotmail - dot - com with your address. Let me know if you want to spend 39 cents on me and I'll send you mine back.

Woohoo.

Bonus!! A kid conversation!!

"How did you and Jef meet??"
"....Myspace...."
"That's gross."

Floppy

**I have a headache today. (Jane: "*snort* What else is new??") Today's headache is unusual because it just will NOT go away. I've been drinking water and I'm sufficiently caffeinated and I've eaten and I've taken some painkillers and I still feel like bands of evil gnomes are building luxury condominiums, complete with underground parking, on and in my skull. The playscape and pool are going in right behind my eyes.

**I'm wearing this V-neck sweater that I got at the Gap and it's a lot like wearing a long-haired cat around my neck. This thing sheds in giant clumps and balls of lint. Seriously, I expect to hear a soft "pfft" and look down to find a pile of black fuzz on the ground and myself clad in only my jeans and my wifebeater.

**Six more days till I see the boy.

**Tonight I'm making Waldorf salad and deviled eggs for our company Thanksgiving luncheon. Between that and all the laundry I have to fold, the glamour is suffocating.

**According to my home scale, I've lost five pounds. According to the plasma place's scale, I weigh, well, a lot. I don't like their scale. It's mean.

**Nobody warns you that teenagers will make you laugh so hard you'll forget how to drive.

**The plasma place "tags" donors with this glowy stuff on the fingernail of the middler finger on the left hand. It's to ensure that you're not going around to every center and donating to collect all kinds of money, which is probably a good idea. They check when you come into donate by having you put your hands under a blacklight to make sure that only that finger glows. Anyway, I find myself wanting to go to a rave just so I can flip somebody off.

**I need to get re-started on some knitting if I'm going to get it finished by Christmas. Fortunately, it's just scarves and the folks I'm making them for sort of already know what's coming, so if I'm working on them on Christmas morning, all "oh, Santa dropped off some yarn!!" they won't really mind too much.

**I put a divot in my head with the handle of the sliding glass door about a week and a half ago. It's in the scalp part, so you can't see it and it's healed nicely. That's what I get for bending down to talk to a (goddamn) cat.

**It took me entirely too long to come up with these few points. I'm packing it in, folks. I need a fistful of painkillers and a woobie. Ugh.

Datebook

Black shawl-collar cardigan, white t-shirt, gray trouser-cut cropped pants, black Clarks. I'm dressed like an emo Mr. Rogers.

Yes Jane, Kansas State can *still* suck it. HMPH. Even though it will surprise the non-Texans in the audience to find out that some of us Longhorn fans are graceful losers (previous sentence notwithstanding) and I got all v/ferklempt when I saw all that gyrating purple on the field Saturday night. It was very cute. Plus Mack Brown annoys me for some reason, winningest coach or not.

Can we take a second to talk about how much the word "winningest" annoys me? Because it does. A lot. A whole, whole, whole lot. Like, as much as nails on a chalk board or cilantro might annoy you.

Oh thank God, Tammy posted a survey. Content!!

How many keys are on your keychain? Five - Car, apartment, mailbox, work, master key so I can use the bathroom when I go to the warehouse (long story.)

What curse word do you use the most? Fuck with goddammit running a close second

Do you own an iPod? Nope

What time is your alarm clock set for? 6AM - now ask me what time I get up.

How many suitcases do you own? Just one.

Do you wear flip-flops even when it’s cold outside? Yep. My feet stay cold no matter what, so what does it matter?

Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture? Take the picture, but then I get all sad because I'm not in any of them, and when I'm in them I hate the way I look. There is no pleasing me.

What was the last movie you watched? Actually really watched?? *hangs head in shame* "Jackass", with Jef. See? See how much I like this boy?

What CD is currently in your CD player? A very sweet mix CD from Jef.

Has anyone told you a secret this week? Sort of

What did you have for dinner last night? A Marie Callendar's turkey pot pie

Do you wear hoodies often? No, because my daughter keeps stealing mine.

Can you whistle? Yes, horribly

Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Either my kid or Jef - probably Jef.

What is your favorite ride at an amusement park? I'm not a big fan of rides because they scare the everloving shit out of me. I like the merry-go-round.

Do you think people talk about you behind your back? Yeah - I'm paranoid like that

What area code are you in? 512

What is your biggest regret? Cheating on my first husband. Not because of the damage it did to the marriage, I think we were doomed anyway. But because of the damage it did to all the people involved. Does that make sense??

What movie do you know every line to? Dogma

When was your last plane ride? August 2004 - Mexico

How many chairs are at your dining room table? Don't got one. We sits on the flo'. But we gots some a them fancy indo' terlets!! Two of 'em!!

Can you speak any languages other than English? Pidgin Spanish that gets better the more I drink. Well, to me it does. HEH.

What color are your bedroom walls? Apartment white.

When was the last time you cried? Few nights ago. Last week was a bad week.

Do you have a desktop computer or a laptop? laptop

Which do you make: wishes or plans? Both

Can you skip rocks? Every once in a while

Who was your favorite teacher? Miss Escaig - 5th grade, Miss Heiderhoff - 6th grade, Miss Brandt - Algebra II, Mr Lehman - Chemistry

What two personality traits attract you most? Sense of humor, adaptability

What two personality traits do you most dislike? Rigidity,lack of either of the above traits (helloooo cop out!)

What is your mother’s hometown? Well, she was born on a naval base in California, I'm not sure what she'd call her hometown - mom??

How many hours of sleep do you need to function? 6ish

Do you eat breakfast daily? I try to.

Describe your typical weekday with three adjectives. Routine, predictable, comfortable

Did you ever get in trouble for talking in class? Oh hell yes

What is your favorite fruit? Uh. I don't know. How odd. I know it's NOT a member of the melon group - that's about the best I can do right now.

Do you believe in life on other planets? Yes

Who was the last person to piss you off? My ex-husband

What do you tell yourself when times get hard? That cats always land on their feet. Cheesy, but it works.

Would you ever sky dive? Is there a gun to my head?

Do you sleep on your side, tummy, or back? I start out on my side, who knows where I wander in the night? I've woken up on my back, pinned to the mattress by 3 cats before.

What character from a movie most reminds you of yourself? The hyperactive squirrel from "Over the Hedge." All they're missing is the part where the squirrel suddenly passes out.

Have you ever bid for something on ebay? Once. Ebay intimidates me.

Do you enjoy giving hugs? To some people

Would you consider yourself to be fashionable? Good lord no. I shop at Goodwill because the sweaters are pre-softened, for crying out loud.

Does it annoy you when someone says they’ll call but never do? Yes, but I do it to people all the time. Sorry.

What books, if any, have made you cry? None - they affect me, but I don't cry when I read. Movies will make me cry though.

Do you think you’re attractive? Nobody's gonna stop me in a malt shop and sign me up for a movie contract, but I think I clean up OK, yes.

What are you allergic to? Penicillin and sulfas - I break out in big giant hives. Favorite doctor quote: "Well, it's hives this time, you might just stop breathing next time. I think I'll put a note in your chart." Ya think???

If you were born the opposite sex, what would your name have been? Gotta punt on this one - mom??

Ok, this entry has been sitting in notepad (Notepad! How primitive!!) since 9:00 this morning, so I think it's time I just went ahead and cut and pasted and admitted defeat.

Thick

I'm at home tonight, making split pea soup and parmesan Irish soda bread. Can you put parmesan cheese in Irish soda bread? Since Irish soda bread is a lot like a buttermilk biscuit in loaf form, I say yes, it's just like making cheese biscuits. Hmph. Which makes this absolutely nothing like the time I started matzoh ball soup with bacon. (Yes, I know, there's a spot in culinary hell with my name on it.)

Anyway, this is how Friday nights shake out when the kid is out of town and the boyfriend has to work. I'm sitting here with the cats and a pot of soup and the internet. Woohoo. Oh, and a living room that still needs to be cleaned. It's in that final stage of cleaning - the actual Putting Things Away stage. Yeah - the fun part. Gag.

Oh look! The UT game! Go Horns. Suck it, Kansas State! HEH.

I don't talk much about money, other than the occasional "dude, I could use some advice" because, dude, I could use some advice. But the fact is I have a bit of a spending problem. Not like Imelda Marcos or that goofy savekaryn bitch or anything, but I tend to soy latte and paperback myself into a corner. My bills get paid, gas gets put in my car, and food gets put on the table, but I tend to find myself unprepared for emergencies, so when one comes up I have to raid my savings. Over the past couple of years, I've ripped through any savings I've had and I've managed to raise the minimum payment on all my credit cards. Some of it is just natural fall-out of a divorce; I did have to set up a new household, after all. However some *cough*most*cough* of it is just me acting like an asshole. HEH.

So, financially speaking, I've become just a teeny-tiny trainwreck. Admittedly, it's like one of those city park trains stopping for a dog, not like the derailing of an Amtrak. And I am NOT asking for help on my blog. Oh sweet lord, no. But I am telling you guys that on Friday I sold plasma.

"Dude, so what? I sold plasma in college."

Yeah well, dude. That's just it. I'm 35. And I have this bizarre association of plasma selling and like...oh God, I'm gonna get in trouble for this, but, well, HOBOS and DRUNKS!!

The fact is, everybody there was absolutely stone-cold sober (oddly enough, it's kind of a requirement) and clean and nice and looked just like me. IMAGINE THAT! Well, except for one sort of scary looking lady, but I'm sure she was just having a bad hair day.

Good lord, I feel like an asshole. Please, no need to point out what a flaming 'roid I am in the comments, I know. I don't know why I had this association in my head, I just did. Anyway. I have the potential to make an extra like, $50/week, which shakes out to $200/month (-ish) which will pay for Christmas at least and then will help me start putting money back in savings and start paying down some of my credit stupidity and some other stuff.

"Why don't you just get a second job??"

First of all, I have this thing called a child. And yeah, she's 15 and yeah, she can cook and fend for herself and all, but I'd like to actually SEE her from time to time and help her with her homework and spend some time with her. She's already in high school and as trite as it sounds, it really does feel like she started kindergarten yesterday, so the idea of working nights and weekend and never getting to see her when I can make the same amount of money for sitting somewhere, hooked up to a pump 3 hours a week?? Hmmm, not a hard choice. Second of all, at holiday time in a college town, there's no such thing as "just" getting a part-time job. But that reason is really, REALLY minor compared to the whole kiddo issue.

Hang on a second. Since this money is taxable, isn't this a job?? I mean, I had to fill out forms and show that I was qualified for it and pass a drug test and all that, just like any other type of employment. So, I guess I do have a second job. It's just one with slightly looser hours and I get to read while I'm on the job. Oh, and there's free pretzels while I wait.

"Why don't you get a better paying job/move to a lower-rent area?"

Actually, my job pays pretty well - the problem really is my horrible money management skills. And I live in the area I do because I want my daughter to go to a decent school. We got a good deal on the rent here and it's actually not that expensive. When you subtract the amount in gas and electric (because this apartment appears to have this thing called insulation) from the raise in rent? It all sort of evens out.

I've got a couple of other things lined up (no, I'm not hooking or dealing, mom) like market research things and selling off some of my craft crap that's currently just taking up room in my apartment. That last option I'm not relying on too heavily because frankly, I'm really more interested in just freeing up the room. But we'll see.

Oh, yeah. And I'm gonna do some wacky things like not spending as much goddamn money. I know, it's a revolutionary concept, but we'll see how it goes.

ANYWAY. I'm fine, I'm not begging for money - no donation button, no complaining about how I couldn't pay the rent after I bought those $200 boots (rent always got paid first - HA!!) no ads (I don't even know what good that would do, since I have 3 readers, including MY MOM), no whining. I hope - am I whining? If I am, y'all slap me, OK? 'Cause I know I made my own bed over here.

Pea soup, body fluids for cash and a filthy living room. Yep, that about sums up my Friday, folks. My wine glass is empty.

ETA - we shall not speak of the havoc that stupid Kansas State is currently wreaking upon the Longhorns.