Saturday, January 29, 2011

If you're a friend of mine on the FB you can see some very unfortunate old pictures of me in my FORMER friend April's albums. Anyway, April went to high school and is an old friend of Barton Carrol's. Back in the 90's when we were all that and a bag of chips, I was constantly amused by Barton stories. Turns out, Barton's a damn fine musician and I was too wrapped up in flannel and combat boots to give it a chance. This is me making amends with my 20 year old self... hey snarky, foul-mouthed, huge-boobed pagan chick. It ain't all that bad. How 'bout drinking less and working more and trying not to be a complete holier than thou witch with a capital B.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Today is Daddy's birthday. At first I was all geared up to do a big post about it. Then I sighed myself out of posting all together. Now I've decided to just mention it and leave it at that. Really, I'm sure anyone can imagine how empty and painful an experience it is to lose someone the week before Christmas and a month before their birthday.

In other got-dang news: There's a new baby in the family. I can't wait to hold her and sniff her and snoodle all over her. Me and John and our pussy brigade are heading down for a visit in a few more weeks. We planned it around the baby-boo's arrival. I'm a very good aunt. Also while we're down there we're going to be checking out Real Estate in the area as I've decided it's time to get serious and think about purchasing a house. I've lived in this stupid-ass trailer for way too long and I think I've figured out that while the cramped quarters aren't necessarily the root of my bad attitude, I'm positive the tee-niney-ness is greatly influencing my bitchiness. The cold ain't helping neither.

What I'm reading: The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourne. What we're watching: We like about three episodes before we're completely caught up with Dexter. I've lost complete interest in everything else on tv.

Thursday night my laptop got infected by some virus that called itself Internet Security 2011. Please, for the love of God, if anyone out there is reading this and you take away one thing from this post, please let it be this: if you get a pop-up during your inner-web browsing that tells you you're computer is at risk for being infected and it starts flashing shit and looking all scary and legitimate, please, just x out of everything and power down. Because while it's not really hazardous to your system, it's sure as hell a pain in the cods to get rid of. And apparently it's pretty rampant, because yesterday I was on the regular computer on a completely different site and the virus attempted to take over again.

That's it. That's all I've got today.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Welcome to the world Caroline Bailey-Jeanne!

Monday, January 17, 2011

My whole life I've hated my hands. Short and stubby sausage fingers that I've likened to those of a twelve year old boy. My finger nails grow wide and wonky and no matter how much I slather them with Burt's Bees, my cuticles have never enjoyed more than five minutes of softness. But sitting beside of my Daddy the final few hours of his life, whispering love words to him, I kissed and stroked and held his big swollen fingers and Wendy said to me, "Look, Janet. You've got Daddy's hands." And I thought about all those times when I was little, walking around amusement parks and flea markets with Daddy and how I'd hold his finger. His hands were too large for me to grasp comfortably, so instead he'd hold out his index finger. I thought about the wood that they carried and the fires that they tended, the babies they held and cotton they picked and cows they milked and wounds they tended and all the doors they held open, both literal and figurative. I'd like to think they're not all I've inherited from him. But even if they were, it would be plenty.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Here are some things I'm in love/lust with lately:

The Dead Sea Salt Scrub in lavender by Nourish of Savannah. At first you think it's gonna be greasy, but it's really just extra special softening. Plus, it makes you smell like you've just spent the day at the spa.

There are Birkenstock people and there are non-Birkenstock people. I'm a Birkenstock person. I still own my very first pair of purple Jesus sandals circa 1990. I was the token hippie chick of West Lincoln High School. Whatever, anyway, I'm all about these paisley puppies up yonder. I don't remember where I got that picture, but I think they're Birkis two-toned paisley print mary janes. I think. I totally want them. I'm going right now to search the entire web nation for them.

Friday, January 14, 2011

I woke up yesterday morning feeling not so great. My chest hurt and my body ached a bit. So I ate a couple of Aleve and went on with it. As the day wore on, I felt worse and worse. I lost my voice and after working ten and a half hours, I was feeling like I got blind-sided by a train. Went to the doctors and turns out I've got Bronchitis and a 103.3 fever, which I think just broke because I woke up from a Tussionex induced nap drenched - I mean drenched - in sweat. Suffice to say, I don't plan on doing anything more taxing than taking a shower and watching netflix all weekend.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

I joined Paperback Swap (sorry, too lazy to give a link) a month or so ago and between that and my trips to the Book Barn (sorry again) and consignment stores I'm slowly drowning in books. They're sliding off of couches onto the floor and under the bed and really just about every where I look there's a partially read book just taunting me with my inability to commit. I can't tell you the last book I finished.

It snowed a few inches last night and this afternoon I decided to make a run to the grocery store. I swept my car off and then proceeded to lose my car keys. Twenty minutes later I proceeded to lose my shit. John told me to calm down because we knew they were in a fifty foot radius so they had to show up eventually. I reminded him of the forty-eleven things I've managed to permanently lose... all within a fifty foot radius. I did find them, eventually. They had fallen out of my coat pocket and into the snow. Yes, I knew I'd find them. But goddammit I'm sick of losing shit and misplacing shit and really, it's just exhausting.

Movie's I've half-way watched this weekend: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken and Bell, Book and Candle. Which has prompted me to wonder why on earth Don Knotts and Jack Lemmon never did a movie together. I would've paid real money to see that shit.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

A day or so after Daddy died Wendy and I stood in the middle of Mama's kitchen and hugged and cried and she whispered in my ear, "You know, we just come from such good roots." A few days later I managed to find a couple of quiet hours for myself so that I could get inked for my Papa.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

John and I saw True Grit today. It was a thoroughly enjoyable movie experience due in part to the Coke and boxes of candy I snuck inside. Afterwards, I called Wendy and found out she and Aaron had also just watched True Grit.

It's been a hard few days. Grief wrapped in nausea manifesting as anxiety. I walk around with a criers headache and a bubble of despair in the well of my stomach.