Friday, December 31, 2010
No wonder I didn't get invited to any New Years Eve throw-downs this year.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
When we asked him how the hell he got up there he looked really, really embarrassed for us.
Yesterday was the anniversary of John's 20th year of sobriety. Twenty years clean and sober. It's mighty damn impressive and I'm mighty damn proud of him. If you know a recovering addict who isn't a complete doucher, you should tell him/her how proud you are of them because it's some serious bidness. I mean, he and I joke about it a lot but that's only because we're a couple a socially inept sick-o's.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Talkin' 'bout you John. High five!
First picture taken with the new computer. I don't have any editing tools set up yet, but that's me and the Lenster. He's so sweet he poops sugar cubes.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
These crackers are ridiculously good. They're so good I'm thinking about whipping up a pseudo-dip to go along with them. They're so good, I'm contemplating putting on a bra and going to the store to pick up a chunk of colby jack cheese because they're so good they need to be introduced to a food partner so's they can conjugate and make happy babies in my mouth. That's how good they are.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
This made me well up and feel better about my generation. Because lately... well, lately I've been feeling jaded and disoriented with things. Not my personal life, but life in it's most existential form. I think that's why I'm seeking out the artists and balladeers. I need some truth sung to me.
Also, I'm all kinds of pissed that my opportunity to be Queen has been snatched away from me by that Kate Middleton broad. It's gonna take some time for me to get over this. My old friend Courtney says she and I need to make up our own titles and I'm inclined to agree. I'm toying around with Her Royal Highness Lady Janet of Lankern.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
I don't know why you wanna do me this-a way.
And furthermore, you and I both know damn good and well that there's no way a pair of curtains will change my life.
So then why is it, that every time I look at these things I'm somehow convinced otherwise?
Sunday, November 7, 2010
So Bank Of America has this deal where they offer free admission to certain museums the first full weekend of every month. We've been to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston several times, but never for free. It was a lot more fun that way because then you don't feel obligated to look at every single piece of Chinese artifacts because you've dropped twenty bucks on the place. Still, we spent a good three hours with our jaws nearly unhinged and our sense of direction all screwed up because the place is fabulous but boy-howdy is it easy to get turned around. I went on a John Singer Sargent quest only to find out that while they do have a shit-pot full of his stuff, the really good stuff is "in the New American wing which doesn't open until next weekend". Well hell.
Monday, November 1, 2010
This weekend I went to girl's night at Shari's and it seems the theme of the evening was cheese. Cheese dip and another kind of cheese dip and a platter of nachos with cheese sauce... plus, tonight, I had cheese and tortilla's for supper and I swear to Moses I probably won't poop for a year. We watched Knocked-Up and while I love me some girl-time, I truly hated that movie. It depressed the hell out of me and I didn't understand any one's motives. I read on the Imdb board that people were upset because Katherine Heigl was wearing a bra during the sex scenes and then they're applauding her for standing up for herself, for having integrity and for not wanting to ruin her career by going topless. Then someone else responds with some lame comment about how nude scenes didn't ruin Kate Winslet's career. Seriously? Are you effin' kidding me? Who the hell compares Katherine Heigl to Kate Winslet? I would spit in the eye of anyone who blasphemed in that manner in my presence. Then and there I decided that any movie that provokes that sort of jackassery is the sort of movie I can do way without.
In other news, Happy Halloween to all ya'll.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
I'm home alone this evening. John's playing darts with the farmers and I'm about to eat a head-ache pill and maybe some wheat thins and veggie dip. Earlier this evening we took a ride to get away from home and my face suddenly got super-ass hot and my stomach turned queasy. We took a detour through McDonalds so I could get a small Coke to cool me down and settle the belly and the voice through the box says, "Welcome to McDonalds! Would you like to try a McRib sandwich?". And John and I did one of those what?!?what?!? double takes and before I knew it, we were sitting in the Target parking lot making faces at the seagulls, stuffing our mouths, wondering if we were the only two people in the world today who actually high-fived over a McRib.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Yesterday John and I bought jeans because most of mine have holes in the thighs from the old chub-rub and John says he's using his weight to keep up with the gas prices. You know, going up a few cents every day. Really though, I think it's just because he's finally off of the Interferon. Either way, we've decided to lay off of the shit food for a while. See where that gets us. Evidently it's genetic because we took Ernie to the vet Friday for his check-up and he weighs a honkin' 18 pounds. He's a truck. And before anyone decides to get on our shit, he's really not even fat, so much as he is just BIG. The vet said just to make sure he stays active. Today I watched him chase grasshoppers across the yard, so he and I have totally fulfilled both our ends of the bargain.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Because it's fall and fall is my favorite season, I'm offering up some nice fall music. At least it's fall music to me. Dave Mallett is one of those musicians that John's been listening to for 30 years and because I've known John for a while now I'm well aware that that's not exactly cause enough for me to drink the kool-aid. (ie James Taylor, Bruce Springsteen) But in this case, John was right on. Listen if you want. Dave Mallett's a poet. A writer of poignant ballads and a pretty swell guy.
**** John's making me print a retraction: He wants everyone to know that he's never, ever liked Bruce Springsteen. But I could've sworn otherwise.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Cat Versus Human
I swear I just found this cartoon like five minutes ago. Which is freaky-deaky because this morning I downloaded this picture from our vacation:
Bea loves to ride. This is her wedged in between us, perched on her very own pillow, happy as a clam. She's been riding in cars since the get-go and actually prefers it to just about any other recreational activity. We prefer her in cars too. She gets to be the queen of the road and she morphs into a sweetheart. So much so that we've decided to make regular car rides with Bea a part of our lives.
Monday, October 18, 2010
My whole life I've been secretly convinced that at some point I'm going to be able to pick up a pencil or a paintbrush and just be able to create something like this. In my mind, it's not so much about being born with a talent as it is discovering it at the exact right moment. Like all of the atoms are moving and I just have to be in tune with myself and the universe enough to know when's the right time.
It all makes perfect sense in this musty, fusty head of mine. Meanwhile, I love Julie Morstad's illusrations. There's something creepy and romantic and cover of a 1970 children's book about them.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
I'm someone who gets more sleep when I'm not on vacation. Mostly because when I'm visiting my family or some place other than the trailer out in the woods, I'm afraid something really awesome is gonna take place and I'll miss it. I ate breakfast every morning at 6am with my Daddy and Papaw and my Uncle Jimmy. I like breakfast. But it totally wouldn't break my heart to wait and eat it around 8 or so. It would however break my heart to miss out on sharing it with the men-folk. My sisters joined in on a couple of mornings. My doll-faced niece Katie B. even managed to crawl out of bed and show up wearing the same thing she'd had on the night before. I've been there. I was 18 once too. So that picture above is my Daddy driving us home from b-fast one morning. It's a classic kind of Daddy picture. Gimme cap and clutching the wheel. If you had smell-o-vision, you'd be whiffing Naugahyde and Lance's cheese crackers and kudzu and burning leaves. Those are Daddy smells.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
So here’s how it went down. John and I left at four on Thursday morning during what turned out to be a freakin’ tropical storm. It rained –no- it !!!RAINED!!! for the first twelve hours of our drive. Remember that part in Forrest Gump when he’s in Vietnam and he talks about it raining and he says it rained all the time, it rained sideways and frontways, and one time it even rained upside down? Well, it was like driving through a car wash. Cars were all pulled over on the sides of I-78 and I-81 with their hazard lights flashing. But not us. Hell naw. We kept on plugging along. Which is why it took us over 15 hours.
Now having said all of that, the weather for the rest of the trip was nothing less than purrfect. Mama and Daddy and John and I went to Boone one day:
I ate boiled peanuts and John ate too much $8 a pound “penny candy” from the Mast General store and then got himself a sugar hangover. I came real damn close to getting my forearm tattooed. A chick at one of the tattoo places helped me design one, but by the time I made up my mind it was nearly dark and John had donned his hypoglycemic pants and I started having nervous-nellie palpitations, so I decided it just wasn’t meant for right then.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I am unofficially on vacation. Officially it begins Friday. However, I’m calling in tomorrow morning so that we can get a head start on the 12+ hour drive to Lincoln County. And by “we” I mean me and the sweet doofus and the three sweet feline doofuses and the bitchy old granny lady. Aggie’s staying home. Sometimes it pays to have a social anxiety disorder. I’m thinking about cultivating one myself. Of course, after what’s about to go down tomorrow in the AM, I’m afraid we’re all gonna be certifiable.
So, I’ll leave y’all with that. I’ll see some of you in a day or so. Others, I’ll probably be in touch with via the text message and the Facebook. Plus, I’m finally breaking down and getting a mobile with the internet. I’m having my new Palm Pixi Plus sent to Mama and Daddy’s. It should be waiting on me when I get there. Ahhhh, sookie-sookie now.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I cleaned out the fridge a few minutes ago and I'm feeling a bit queasy. *Note to self: if you leave green beans in the refrigerator for more than four weeks they'll become reallyreally green beans.
What I'm reading: The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton and still trudging through Boneshaker.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Some pussy cats just have bad teeth. It’s not their fault. And it’s not their people’s fault. It’s more or less the fault of their trifling ass birth parents and their no count genetics. John took Lenny- the best baby boy-o in the world- to Dr. Norris this morning to have the Lenster’s teeth cleaned. We were hoping he’d be okay to come home tonight, but they had to remove six teeth (!!!) and he was still really groggy when we called this evening to check on him, so Lenny’s spending the night at the kitty hospital. He’s always had stank breath, but he’s never had any problem chewing so far as we could tell. And he’s only two years old, not really the age you’d expect for such terrible tooth troubles. I had just started noticing that whenever I’d scratch his chin in certain areas, he’d do an almost involuntary chatter. Like nerves were jumping. So I pried his mouth open and took a look inside and sure enough, red puffy gums. Dr. Norris has assured us that he’ll be better than ever now. I said, “Lookit, lady! This is my precious baby boy-o and if you don’t make him well I’m gonna strike down upon you like the hand of God!”. Not really. I didn’t say that. In fact, I wasn’t even there. Instead, John told her, “This one’s Jan’s favorite. Try not to kill him, okay?”.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
A few weeks ago, if you’ll recall, John “accidentally” broke the strap of my pocketbook and I was mildly devastated. I’d been carrying that thing across my body for like two years. Bought it at TJ Maxx for $10 and it’s everything I need in a bag. It’s got all those nifty little compartments and since I tend to fly a lot, it’s a cinch getting to my ID and credit cards and all that jazz. Anyway, since that hateful incident with the car door and John’s super human strength, I’ve been using a safety pin to hold it together. Yesterday, we drove to Webster, MA for the sole purpose of eating at Friendly's – a fine New England institution and home of the Fishamajig and the Fribble. We ate burgers and a Whoopie Pie sundae and as we’re strolling through the parking lot I notice a new consignment store has opened next door. Here’s where it gets good. I’m browsing and quickly figuring out that there are no books and little kitsch and so I’m probably wasting my time when, BAM! My pocketbook falls to the floor. I pick it up and sure enough, the safety pin has popped open. This is the first time this has happened and I’m thinking damn, now it’s gonna happen from now on and I’m gonna tear my old bag up piercing it with new pin holes and eventually it’s just gonna tear and I’ll have to break down and buy a new one. So I head over to the pocketbook section and I’m sure you can guess what I found. Brand new. With tags. For $4. The same damn bag. Only the new one’s green and my old one was purple. Seriously, you can’t make this crap up. It’s like the time my friend Lynn found a scarf that was hand-knitted in Iceland for $3 at the Goodwill. This was like two weeks after she had just gotten back home from her vacation in Iceland and she said everything costs about a jillion dollars over there and she refused to pay $75 for a scarf.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Before I forget- for those of you who aren’t yet privy to this information, just so’s you know, you can buy The Avett Brothers album I and Love and You on Amazon for FIVE DOLLARS ! That’s the sort of stuff that makes me silly happy as the brothers Avett are particularly talented and lovely to look at and they’re also from my neck of the woods. Well, my original neck of the woods. The northern Carolina woods. I told John, “I just downloaded an Avett Brothers album for five freakin’ dollars!” and he said, “What are the Abbot Brothers?”. So I made him listen and he liked them but then he wanted to know why they didn’t have accents like mine. So we argued over that for a while and later that day we were watching The Andy Griffith Show and discussing how we should’ve named the cats after Mayberry characters (Juaneeter, Floyd, Helen Crump and Rafe Hollister) and he had the nerve to tell me that I sound just like Ernest T. Bass. Someday I’ll youtube a video of the sigh and eye twitch that I have created expressly for those types of comments. It’s like Frank Costanza’s “Serenity now!” mantra. Only less loud.
What I’ve watched: The Young Victoria and Whip-It. Loved both.
Monday, September 13, 2010
What I'm reading: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe. It's very, very good. In fact, I'm about to go shower and take said book to bed with me. John's gone to his first Dart-Ball game of the season. I'm home alone. It's so quiet I could weep with joy. I love him to death, but a girl needs a quiet house every now and again. Today I took a picture of goose poop in the parking lot at work and texted it to him with the oh so clever caption "Holy goose shit, Batman!!!". Three exclamation points, mind you. And he texted me back, "Goober?" which is what my mama calls peanuts. And upon closer inspection, it did indeed look like a peanut as much as it did goose poop. But before I could reply he texted me again, "Don't eat it, ok?". And I laughed like hell until I realized that he's to blame for my increasingly high-brow sense of humour.
Monday, September 6, 2010
John is Steve's godfather and I look like I should be representing the lollipop guild in this picture. One has nothing to do with the other. John's dad was Lithuanian and they're notoriously tall people.
Afterwards, Mike took us all out to eat and Kendall provided the entertainment by waving hi and bye at everyone and displaying all around general cuteness.
Today, we've been invited to a cook-out and I'm currently in the process of making this:
Death By Chocolate
I plan on drinking beer and trying to stay awake. I went to bed at 6:30 last night, woke up at nine to drag my sorry ass to the couch where I promptly fell back to sleep. John woke me up at eleven and made me go back into the bedroom, where I stayed until 7:30am. I'm trying to make up for Friday nights cluster-fuck of excruciatingly pain-filled sleep. How bad did I hurt? Real effin' bad. Like, crying and waking up John to have him rub my back and shoulders bad. All that night I moved from the bed to the floor to the divan back to the bed back to the divan where Ernie sat on my face and kneaded my crotch. Guess what cat? It ain't that kind of party. He's been very kind through all of this. John, not Ernie. A real sport, that giant goober of mine is.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
What I've read: The Little Giant of Aberdeen County by Tiffany Baker. It was a book that had no idea what it wanted to be. Whoever edited it should lose their job.
As it turns out, I don't have Lyme. Rather, I have the arthritis. Today Lily, my new physical therapist who's about four and half feet tall and weighs about a hundred pounds wet, worked me over Sumo style. She told me I have shitty posture and a hump on my back. I told her that's where I store all of my magic.
Monday, August 30, 2010
This is why I haven't been blogging lately. Because all I have inside of me is upset whiny words. I truly wish it were otherwise.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
My BFF John. My crazy mama. My passel o' cats. And my suhster Angie, she of the ever-listening ear.
Also, here's The Fruitcake Lady to give everybody a little what for on behalf of yours truly:
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Last night we hung out at Bill's house for a few hours. There are really so many things I could say to elaborate. But I'll just tell y'all like I told Angie. An hour with Bill is a lot of fun... anything over that and your life starts resembling a Tim Burton movie: you're pretty sure you're enjoying yourself, but everything's starting to feel surreal. Afterwards, like way afterwards, John and I laughed ourselves stupid doing re-enactments of the evening. Days from now I'll be at work and suddenly get the absurd giggles because a phrase or gesture from last night will pop into my head. Probably it'll be the story about the night thirty years ago when John showed up at Bill's apartment with a bag of lobsters in one hand and an 8-ball of rock in the other and how they spent the rest of the night living like kings. Bill said at 9 o'clock the next morning, John shows back up and Bill says, "Man, I just saw you three hours ago, didn't you sleep?". And John answers, with his eyes the size of dinner plates, "Yeah dude, I slept. I slept like a baby: I shit my pants and woke up screaming."
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
No one wants to hear about my aching, stiff and swollen joints. I know this. And yet I can’t help but put it out there. I also can’t help feeling blasé and bored. I have yet another doctors visit today and so I stayed home from work, swallowing ibuprofens the size of grapes and pretending like there’s not a sink full of dishes to be washed and a pile of clean clothes to be put away.
John dvr-ed Mad Men and we watched it yesterday while eating salad and frozen pizza. I made him pause it after the part where the Life magazine chick tells Peggy she looks ‘swellegant’ and then leans in and kisses her. We had a brief discussion about what folks back then must’ve thought about women who dressed masculine or men who were effeminate. Were they thought of as homosexual or just ‘tom-boys’ and ‘sissies’ and that’s it. Throw a label on it and go about your day. I told John about the time my sisters and I were going through Daddy’s old high school annuals and we came across a certain boy whose name my sister Wendy recognized. She asked Daddy if this boy wasn’t the same boy who had been the first known AIDS victim in our county and Daddy said that he was indeed. So we asked more questions. What he’d been like in school. Was it obvious to everyone back then that he was gay? Daddy said it just never occurred to him. That he’d played on the basketball team with him and yeah, he was a ‘fancy-boy’ and acted kind of silly but no body really cared. I guess when there’s only 30 people in your class you get used to things pretty quickly. Daddy said the first time he ever thought about anyone being gay was in about 1960 when he was 20. He’d found a job a couple of counties over and was staying at the YMCA. I know, right? He came in pretty drunk one night and was fumbling for the key to his room when a ‘fancy-boy’ strolled by him and said, “Hey big fella, how’d you like to take a trip around the world?”. Daddy said, “Hell, this is the first time I’ve ever been out of Lincoln County.”
Saturday, August 14, 2010
What I'm reading: Affinity by Sarah Waters. So far she's my favorite novelist of this century. I'd almost say the same thing about Joe Hill, but I haven't read Horns yet.
What I've read: Changeless by Gail Carriger, and Still Life by Louise Penny
What I'm watching: Inspector Lewis and Wallander courtesy of Netflix
What I'm eating: mater sammiches every day of my life. So far this is the summer of the tomato. Sometimes I eat them with salt and pepper and Dukes mayo between two slice of oatnut bread. Sometimes I eat them plain, like an apple.
This morning I told Mama that I have a hard time opening doors and bottles because my hands go numb and she said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I've got a jar of pickles in my refrigerator that I've been working on for six months. I feel like one of them damn otters trying to crack open an oyster shell."
Of course no party is complete without John taking at least one profile picture of me holding a beer bottle. I could give lessons on how to be a classy lady.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Last week Rotorooter unclogged our tree-root entrenched drains and then we got a fancy new commode. Or “toilet” as everyone up here calls it. But I can’t say “toilet” without feeling trashy. Anyway, about 24 hours after all that went down, we found ourselves on the losing side of a drain-fly war. Seems the rootering stirred up a nest of them and I swear to all that’s holy in this universe that we’ve got ourselves a veritable plague.
A PLAGUE I tell you!
We’ve ordered some rock-em-sock-em-kill-em-dead stuff off the internets, but for the time being Clorox is my weapon of choice. There’s nothing on earth that Clorox can’t fix.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
More prettiness from Wilmington... six weeks after the fact. We've been having minor computer issues and wound up losing all of the pictures we'd downloaded or uploaded or whatever you call it. Also, for some reason, blogger isn't always privy to my company. I get half-way through a post and then I get kicked off. It's kind of annoying and my patience is super-model thin.
In other news:
My honey-bunny niece Katie B. is pregnant. Word on the skreet is that it's a baby boy and while I'm sure this thrills my sister Wendy to no end because she's -and I quote- "sick of stinkin' girls with their boobies and periods", it's still a very odd occurence in our family as we've only had one in the past fifty years. Literally. Anyway, if the baby turns out to be a boy-o I'm voting we give it a lovely old-fashioned name and then ruin it by nicknaming him "Skeeter" or "Pee-Dab".
Saturday, August 7, 2010
We've finished season three of Mad Men and are now ready to start the new and current season. Other than my doctor telling me I have Lyme Disease, that's about all that's going down. I've been having this issue lately where I think that it's fall instead of summer or I think that it's Tuesday instead of Friday. Not for prolonged periods, but briefly and frequently. For a couple of seconds I think, 'oh good, we can pick up some cider at the orchard this weekend. Wait, crap, it's August and it's two jillion degrees outside.' Whatever, I just want a Lucky Strike and a whiskey. The bouffant hair I can take or leave.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Netflix recommended I add Lovely and Amazing to my queue, which reminded me how much I enjoy looking at Catherine Keener. I think it's her big beautiful nose that does it for me. And maybe her slightly gapped teeth. She's very arresting and stare-worthy. She's also 51 if you can believe it.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
John and I are Netflix-ing it again for the sole purpose of finally catching up with MadMen. I'm so infatuated with Don and Joan and Peggy that I can't even tell you. Everyone is so dreamy and delicious and I don't envy them one little bit. It's like watching a train wreck. Or like watching your out of control best friend make a shambles out of her life despite your repeated warnings. Only a lot more fun because there's minimal emotional investment. All you gotta invest is a netflix membership.
Anyway, we just watched an episode that closed with a Peter, Paul and Mary song and I do so love Mary Travers. She was a hotchie-totchie and damn-sam could she wail.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
More of my favorite youtube chick.
Still haven't made it out of the house. Have however shampooed all of the rugs and carpeting in this tiny, tiny home of ours. I'm pretending like it smells better for John's sake. "Doesn't it smell a hundred times better?" he asks me, dripping with sweat, his bald head covered in errant cat fur and lint balls. "Like a fucking rose garden, sugar-boog." I answer emphatically.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I'd really like to be able to add something new to the conversation but truly this is what I do most of the time. I hold sweet-ass babies whose breaths smell worse than the county dump. Sometimes I read - Changeless by Gail Carriger - sometimes I watch something decent on tv - P!nk's Funhouse Tour on the Palladium Channel - sometimes I browse Etsy and thank sweetbabyjeezus that I don't have a lot of money or else I'd be up to my eye sockets in feminized men's button-down shirts and hipster nerd t-shirts and steampunk jewelry.