Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Why Are We Having a Fashion Show?

In the words of Coconut Pete, "Cause it's goddamned Fashion Show Wednesday!"
So, I went shopping as mentioned earlier, looking for the right attire for hubby's new job's Christmas party this coming Friday. Apparently I have now lost even more weight, which is a little disturbing since I didn't really have any to part with. I already have enough trouble staying warm due to lack of body fat. So, there was some minor trouble coming up with stuff small enough to fit properly, but I prevailed in the end. Anyway, I spent a lot of money on a lot of stuff I didn't really need (jeans cause the belt was cool, new coat cause it was 75% off, new purse cause it matched the coat, 2 new hoodies, indentical in every way except color, silver shrug which was totally unnecessary, black leather knee-high boots, brown suede knee-high boots, white ribbed tank top with black shrug, new costume jewelry to go with all party clothing options, and 4 DVDs) but I sort of had a feeling before even getting in the car that this was going to happen. Also there was a notion that I wouldn't come back home with anything even remotely wearable for the party. I did though. In fact, I came home with more than one thing to wear, so now it's decision making time. Bring on the bodyless fashion show...
The Outerwear and Purse...(The fur collar is detachable)
The Cami & Sweater Combo with Appropriate Jewelry...
Option #1...
Option #2...
Option #3...
I think I'm gonna go with the ivory. It's more classic and hubby thought the other two were too dark for a X-mas party.
The Skirt...
The Boots...
So, there it is, the fruits of many hours spent shopping and standing in line with Little Miss Maddy screaming her head off, having a temper tantrum because she wanted hot dogs and popcorn.
BTW: Broken Lizard guys, we love you and would appreciate it if you got on the ball and made a new movie already! Fans of your others, but we need more. I think someone might slap me next time I say, "Be happy in your work, Pear." or suggest we may have jungle rats.

The Lost Thoughts...

I love this picture. I took it at the Wormsloe Plantation/Historic site in Savannnah, GA.

This is all stuff I had written down since November 11th, 2005, but never got around to blogging until now. It was scattered all over the place and I was basking in laziness. Back on task now though...Enjoy!

NOV. 11, 2005
*Run all over the house lookin' for CDR with my 'Kissyface' picture on it. Can't find it anywhere. Think picture is gone forever.
*Run all over lookin' for CDR with 'CandleSmokeInRain' mp3 on it. Can't seem to find this one either. There is another copy, but it's downstairs in the Amityville room and that's just too scary to deal with right now.
*House too big. Out of breath. Give up search.
*Send picture of samauri kittens to BEG.
*Take pictures of self. Am so purrrty!
*Send picture of self to hubby. Think the file might be too big for his Treo. Maybe he won't get it.
*Cannot wait for lasagna to get done. I am so hungry.
*Consider going to talk to 'The Puppy' about his future living arrangements and see if he got a job yet. Too weakened from hunger to walk that far. Could call, but phone also too far away.
*Cook lasagna! Cook!
*Decide to watch Closer.
*Freak out at a commercial where Christians are hawking Strawberry Shortcake merchandise (Christian Family Store - This really seems to bother me in more ways than one.
*Friggin' John Stamos on ER! What the hell? Why do I still continue to watch this show? Oh, yeah. It's because at any moment, anyone, for instance John Stamos cans how up as anything, for instance a paramedic as in the case of Stamos. John Stamos as a paramedic! It's genius! They'll make millions!
*Consider all other John Stamos mockery ala Nick Swardson's hilarious funeral plans. Great plan Nick!
*I hate the starfield screen-saver on my PC right now.
*Love that Mekhi Pfiefer's character on ER can give a lecture to someone failing to fulfill their community service while trying to save the life of a rescue worker shot by a rapist kidnapper! Brilliant!
*BTW: Closer is quite the beautiful disaster. Two thumbs up to Ms. Portman and Mr. Owen. As per usual, Mr. Law's performance was a little bit lacking.
*Chili from TLC as naughty nurse on 'That 70's Show' hitting on Hyde. What's up with TV tonite?

NOV. 15, 2005
*It's my brother Tummy's 21st birthday and the little bastard did not even go out. What kind of bullshit is that. I don't care if he has to get up early for work. He's getting to be so responsible and it just baffles me!
*Some psychic blogged to BEG that she's doomed. She is not doomed. I think the psychic is doomed and I'm not even psychic enough to know what I'll be doing ten minutes from now. Some day she will tell that to the wrong person and not be psychic enough to see the ass-beating coming her way.
*BEG don't listen to this woman.
*Why am I watching 'MASH'?
*We need to get The Movies video game. It would be friggin' brilliant!
*Decide to make brownies.
*Brownies finally in oven. Only 28 minutes to go.
*Have to calm Bitty Belle. Angus stole her rawhide.
*Try to come up with way to creatively celebrate hubby's new job. Can't think of anything clever.
*There's nothing on TV...ever!
*The brownies did not turn out well. They're burned and hard as a rock. Dammit!

NOV. 17, 2005
*Decide to watch 'I Love the 80's - 1987" on VH1.
*Ooh! Lisa Lisa and The Cult Jam! Excellent tune-age!
*I love it when they talk to Juliet Lewis about Lisa Lisa and then she sings 'All Cried Out'. I think I will watch just about anything in which Juliet Lewis says the phrase SLOW JAM.
*Mina just jumped up on my lap. She's all cuddly and purring. She must not hate me too much right this second. I must have something she wants. Maybe she's hungry.
*Download Lisa Lisa & The Cult Jam's best from Kazaa Lite (All Cried Out / Can You Feel the Beat / Head to Toe / If I Take You Home / Lost in Emotion).
*Brett Michaels doesn't know what he's talking about...ever!
*Lisa Lisa rules!
*I'm such a geek!
*Maybe I'll go look for my Pogo Ball and totally rock out.
*There is nothing on TV tonite. There isn't anything on...ever...except for 'LOST' and that's pretty much just the same episode filmed over and over again from different angles and viewpoints. It could go on that way forever.
*Baffled by VH1's 'I Love the Holidays'. Looks entertaining enough, but does VH1 have to love everthing all the time? Be more creative VH1 people! Eventually, they will run out of normal shit to love and talk about and they will have to do shows like 'I love...Snack Chips'. Hal Sparks and Michael Ian Black can argue like they do about which is better...Munchos or Pringles. They could have a heated debate about chips with ridges and a dip montage with close-up shots of stirring and pouring dip. Hal Sparks or possibly Mo Rocca could lovingly fondle a jar of Ruffles onion dip.
*Other 'I Love the...' possibilities...'I Love the Soup' or 'I Love the Natural Disasters' although me and BEG could handle that one all on our own with all the CNN coverage we watched over the summer. Go Katrina...she kept us occupied for like two weeks.
['I Love the 80's - 1988' just started]
*I think Mike Tyson just told a reporter that someone was trying to scoop out his brain. He has one? Tyson freaks me out because he will hit or bite the ear off of anyone for just about any reason.
*Rick Astley scared the be-jesus out of me! He's like a creepy, freckled, red-headed alien creature. Did he go back into space? Is that why he's been absent from the music scene since 1988? Oh no, wait, it's because he sucked and scared the be-jesus out of everyone.
*It totally smells like barbeque sauce in here.
*Still wondering how much that had to pay Lionel Ritchie to do his little make-out songs of...speel. He's so condesending and pissy about it. Can you feel the love? I know I can.
*What the hell happened to poor Kari Wuhrer? Why is she on 'General Hospital' now? What happened to her career?
*I swear to god Michael Hutchence was Jim Morrison's replacement. He was all slithery and beautiful.
*I miss PSAs like they did in the 80's. Where is Ed Asner now when someone is illiterate?
*I keep seeing the commercial for the new Trojan Elexa line of products and it's really freaking me out. They actually have female cleansing wipes, which I imagine are like the little wipes they give you when you have to pee in a cup and no one wants to smell like that down there. And doesn't the idea of needing something like that, something that portable make you think that Trojan just wants you to fuck all the time? Like in bus stations and bar bathrooms? And doesn't that kind of negate the need for cleanliness? So what's the point? Alternately, if using this product I think you should be warey of short skirts and such. The wipes probably smell like diaper wipes and someone might think there's a baby in the bar. This smell doesn't breed temptation.
*Who's the boss? Everyone's the boss! Springsteen is the boss.
*Glory Days ruined my urge to be patriotic in any way. Damn you Springsteen!
*BEG still has my 80's CD set with Terence Trent Darby's Wishing Well on it. Damn her! Will I ever see it again? She's actually had it for almost a year.
*Eddie Money is still alive?
*ER will be on soon. I wonder if John Stamos will be on there again.
*Kiera Knightly should be shot out of a cannon into a brick wall. She has no business being in Pride & Prejudice. Someone should have stopped her after Bend It Like Beckham, which is a movie I love being a soccer fan/player and all, but come on. She can barely act and she's like a skeleton. I think from now on when she does a movie she should be listed as Kiera Knightly's skeleton in the credits.
*God the back of my leg itches! Damn Nair burns!
*Stamos is on ER again. I'm glad to see he had work.
*Grr. Argh. I miss my mutant enemy.
*Search hard drives for my 'Kissyface' picture. My fingers are crossed.
*Stamos' ER character is a little bastard. I hope Neela hits him soon. Someone should hit him.
*I talked to KinkyPoe on the the phone for a really long time today. I haven't done that in like a millenia. I hope her cell bill won't be too bad from all the time.
*Hard drive search for 'Kissyface' picture ended with no results. Dammit! Where did it go?
*Ellen Degeneres has no business being in a commercial with Snoop Dogg and David Bowie.
*Retry search for that damned picture. It has to be somewhere.
*Motherfucker! It's cold outside. Brrr! I hate WI weather. It'll be different ten minutes from now, but it will still suck...or freeze you to death before you have any idea it's coming.
*Angus is licking the coffee table. Apparently he enjoys lemon Pledge.
*ER has a plane crash. Plane crashes are much better on a deserted island, or not-so deserted island like on 'LOST'. It's not-so convincing on ER.
*Woman apparently loves a man who can cook. Hell, I'd be happy just to be without the fire paranoia I'm stricken with every time I see hubby touching a pan. Not to mention the idea of not having to clean up the kitchen afterwards. But then again that would be Khrysten loves a man who can clean up after him self because she is neither his mother or his maid.
*'I Shot John Lennon' - Brilliant! Next week we'll talk to the french bathtub that had a hand in Jim Morrison's death and sample the sandwich that killed Mama Cass. Yeah, I know it wasn't the sandwich that killed her...just the thousand or so she devoured over the course of her big, fat life. I love Cass Elliot, don't get me wrong, but the sandwich didn't help.
*Neela needs to get out of the burning building. This is the sort of scenario that very nearly always ends in death and she can't die now that she's been all hottied up. I love Parminder Nagra...of course this would all lead us right back to Bend It Like Beckham and my problems with Kiera Knightly.
*Jexebelle is always so happy. Her tail never stops wagging.
*Neela's cutting open Stamos. I wonder which way this'll go.
*I'm totally waiting for U2 to start behaving like The Rolling Stones did when they were all played out, so they can resurface with a kick-ass album and tour instead of continuing to do all this lame shit they've been doing for the last decade. Although I don't know how well the world would react to Bono covering a song with David Bowie.
*'Medium' in 3D? Does everything have to be in 3D now? Isn't Patricia Arquette big and scary enough when she's flat on the TV screen?

NOV. 20, 2005
*Howie Day's Collide is really friggin' depressing.
*I am gonna make myself a most bittersweetly, amusing mix CD and then I'm gonna have to copy it for everyone I know. Wow! This is hard.
*I am totally suffering from the infamous I-Just-Came-From-The-Bar/Pool Hall syndome and I keep sticking my lighter in my pocket so no one will steal it which is amusing since I am the only one here. Putting my lighter in my pocket in bars also makes men behind me look at my ass. I'm sneaky like that. I look all sweet and innocent but really I'm like the devil and no one ever sees it coming. This also comes in handy when dealing with men at car dealerships.
*I swear to god, friggin' Napolean Dynamite is completely responsible for my new addiction to the song 'I Promise you I will' by OMD. This song is so sweet. I swear if you are a boy out there and you feel this way about me, start spilling your guts now. If you can't find the words, go gibberish so I can at least get in a good laugh before I realize what's going on. Actually, I imagine right this very second there's an army of men chargind at me salivating and driven like the savages in the Capital One no hassle commercials. Just kidding. I have a high opinion of myself, but not that high.

NOV. 21, 2005
*Homer just yelled at Snowball, "Hey cat, get your own pants!" because she was sleeping on his pants when he was trying to put them on. It makes me think of Boo and how every morning the little bastard has to sit right down and get all comfy on the clothes I intend to put on and how he's so fat. Boo's a tubby boy.
*I love 'The Simpsons'. Homer is smoking a stick of butter and Bart and Lisa just found out that Snowball has a whole second family. She's like a polygamist cat.
*Anna Farris is such a whore! She'll do anything on camera for money. And the trouble with that is that she can't be making all that much from her choices in jobs.
*Just invented the word 'Happification''s the process of being 'Happified' or getting happy.

NOV. 28, 2005
*Both BEG and I are bothered by Art Garfunkel's son looking like him and being named Paul Simon Garfunkel. It's Really unnerving if you think about it too much.
*Gouchos are like Rosario Dawson. They're really starting to grow on me.
*BEG and I suffer from the same high levels of temporary retardation.
*Monkees are awesome!

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


Or Alternately, What to Wear? What to Wear?

Here I sit at a total loss for what to do…or rather what to wear. Hubby started his new job on Monday and this coming Friday is the company Christmas party, which is apparently some super, big deal for them. I don’t necessarily understand why we are going seeing as how he literally just started and doesn’t know anyone yet, but I assume it’s a networking thing. I have plans to keep my weirdness to a dull roar and just grin and bare it until it’s over and basically, since we live in WI and the company he works for is in IL, I won’t have to see or deal with any of these people again until next year’s Christmas party extravaganza, which maybe I’ll have a little more time to plan for.

Hubby was given strict orders to go in and find out exactly how dressing for this party should be handled. I was told it was dress casual, very certainly not formal, which saves me from the nightmare of having to also go out and pay some twit to do my hair. Of course, I’m still having some troubles.

Hubby talked to a man about this, which doesn’t really help me too much. I need a woman’s point of view and apparently female employees are scarce at his new job. Secondly, what the hell is dress casual?

I ask because I’m a girl awfully fond of my collection of plaid golf pants, well-worn jeans and tiny t-shirts. I have a love for my hair in pigtails and my feet in striped toe-socks (They’re gloves for your feet). I would trade any sweater I have ever owned for a larger collection of zipper-front hoodies. My dress coat is short fuzz standard leopard print and has been borrowed by many of my friends.

This is me and what I have one today. The pants are plaid, but since I had to take the picture myself, you can't see them in the picture. They are red, tan and baby blue golf pants.

My shoe collection is a bit out of control. I will buy any pair of shoes I like at any given point no matter where I am or if I can even afford them right that second. I am a shoe junky and collection is large. Although, you have to keep in mind that this collection is also really only dealt with during the fall and winter months for the most part. I tend to start going barefoot as soon as the temperature hits 60 degrees.

My closet is actually what the true master bedroom of my house has been turned into seeing as how there wasn’t an actual closet in the house large enough to house the chaos (Hubby’s clothes are stored in the actual closet in this room). I have very groovy attire. I’m an everyday dresser, seeing as how I don’t have a ‘real’ job and what I do I do from the comfort of my own desk chair.

I’m not a fan of the getting all dressed up and generally feel like a traitor to my tomboy tendencies when wearing dresses and skirts, although I am not opposed to putting on either if it gets me what I want or needs to be done. I find that the little plaid schoolgirl skirt can get a girl just about anything and should be a staple in any girl’s wardrobe.

In the last decade, I have attended three formal events…prom, a 25th wedding anniversary party for hubby’s aunt and uncle and my own wedding. I can count on one hand the number of times I have worn a dress and two hands for the number of times I have put on a skirt, most of which were either summery everyday skirts or it was laundry day and all my jeans were in the wash.

Hubby and I got married at an art gallery at dusk. I did not wear white. I did not have a veil. In fact, like two seconds after the ceremony and all the papers were signed, I took off my wedding shoes, which were rather cute and put on black and white tennis shoes, which everyone found to be quite amusing…with the exception of my monster-in-law who literally told me my wedding wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be, but then again, we bucked her system by not getting married in a church and were instead married by a judge at an art gallery owned by two gay men, one of which is a relative of mine.

Pre-ceremony, The Tripod (Me, BEG and Kinkypoe) collectively hung out in a gay couple’s bedroom getting ready, trying to figure out the strapless bra alternative (see pictures), which had my two best friends practically fondling me (These are the only two girls ever allowed near my breasts with a pair of really sharp scissors). After that, we smoked on the front porch and were just generally disinterested…and it was my own wedding.

I don’t know what anyone really expected. I was the one actually against the wedding. I wanted to just go to the courthouse and get it over with. I bought my dress off of Ebay for like $40. I spend many days getting my hair dyed numerous times to get the ‘Rogue’ out of it (The front was all white blonde like Rogue from the X-men). We opened the atlas the next day, I pointed to New Orleans, and this is where we honeymooned. I spent good portions of my honeymoon drunk in a tire swing pouring Corona down my throat and drunk in a French Quarter strip club (Go Rick’s Cabaret) with my husband buying me lap-dances. We are not normal in anyway and we make our own rules!

This is me in the tire-swing at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, drunk on Corona on my honeymoon. Hubby had to literally pry me out of the tire-swing and I was getting unruly, throwing tiny drink compasses at the chick behind the bar who thought it was wise to give me a pile of them to play with.

Back to the original point…

I have nothing to wear for winter dress casual party activity. I am at a total loss because everything I bother myself to get dressed up for, with the exception of random winter funerals, happens in the spring or summer. This attire will certainly not fly seeing as how it’s supposed to be all of 18 degrees in Chi-Town on Friday night.

I am a girl, but I hate shopping…and I especially hate shopping during the Christmas Festival of Greed. I have big plans to do all my gift shopping online this year and have them shipped directly to whomever they’re going to, this is how much I hate shopping.

I’m going to do it though. Gotta make a good impression or at least on that doesn’t shed light on my strange tendencies and doesn’t fill all my husband’s new coworkers in on the fact that I’m a little bit slutty (This basically leaves out any sort of clothing from Victoria’s Secret – Yes, men, they do sell other items besides thongs and push-up bras).

Yes, I’m going to brave the crowds and winter air and head to the mall. I will try as many things on as is necessary and endlessly search for the exact right ensemble all for the sake of my husband’s new job and the spirit of a good ol’ holiday party.

I imagine whatever I do manage to come up with though will be less than pleasing to them though. I imagine I am probably going to be the youngest wife if not the youngest person at the entire party and thus will be dressed as such. I will not be purchasing any holiday-themed cardigans or candy cane patterned socks.

Monday, November 28, 2005

It's A Miracle...I'm Alive

Or, How Going to Ohio for Thanksgiving Was a Bad Idea

There was some serious , not planned too well, last minute notion to go to Ohio (Hell) to spend Thanksgiving with hubby's family. This was decided about a week beforehand, but we had to find a new puppy-sitter (the old one having stumbled on to my shit-list after the last trip we took away from home - There was an $80 porn bill I got stuck paying an then he had the audacity to declare me a bitch when I requested the money) to even make this trip possible. Actually, first there was a lot of bitching and anger on my part . I did not want to go. Getting me into the car to go to Ohio is a lot like taking an angry cat to the vet. Occasionally, there is some clawing and hissing. I hate Ohio and very nearly everything I've ever seen there...including G-Dub (Seen at an Ohio State graduation a couple years ago) and the second largest conical mound in North America which can be found in the shittiest little town, Enon Ohio. If you are a resident and currently pissed about this, I very half-heartedly apologize, but could you people possibly hang your traffic lights so they can actually be seen? Maybe next time, don't get the mob to do it! And what's up with the Fifth Third Bank? It's just too creepy.

This is the conical adena mound in Enon, OH. Special isn't it? It's right behind the police station as though they are trying to keep it guarded, which I find to be rather hilarious because if you drive through Enon, the police station is usually locked up and dark and all the police cars are parked down at the local bingo hall.

Secondly, hubby went hunting for the four days prior to the holiday in northern WI and wasn't supposed to be back until the day before the holiday, so it was a really tight fit. I, of course, was the laziest human on the planet while hubby was gone it having been my first time alone in the big house since we moved here and I was without a car (notably, this circumstance got BEG to declare me karma's bitch of the week again). Anway, I got Kinkypoe to watch the pets and hubby actually came home on Tuesday so he could get some sleep (he was defeated, having shot nothing but a seat cushion in anger). Whatever!

We get up on Wednesday morning, around nine with things to do before even thinking about getting in the car, like getting the car back and replacing the radar detector which the clip had broken off of. Hubby's family started calling about an hour later, and this is interesting because these people couldn't get their shit together and be somewhere collectively and on time if their lives depending on it. Regardless, we put them off, went shopping (spent way too much money as usual) and got back home just in time to greet Kinkypoe in our driveway.

I had had big plans to bathe before getting in the car for the trip that always seems like it takes a millenia and ultimately leaves my already non-existant soul a little bit further into the negative column, but I digress and there was no time for bathing. We get in the car at the exact wrong time, and not only get caught up in your standard holiday traffic, but we make it to Chi town just in time for their brutal rush hour traffic in the midst of ice rain and hubby's family calling continuously to find out where we are as though we might get sucked into some kind of black hole along the way and never be seen again (I would've welcomed this concept at that point should there have been an alternative to sitting in very nearly stopped traffic and inhaling exhaust fumes.

Also, the new radar detector kept flashing SPECTRE alert, which I assumed meant that it was picking up some kind of ghostly energy. We paid enough for it to detect the paranormal. I still don't know what the hell it actually was picking up so if any of ya'll out there have a clue, fill me in please. I'm a girl and generally the radar dectector just serves as an irritating noise-maker akin to the original Super Mario Bros game.

Somehwhere near the skyway, my 6 disk cd changer decided to stop working for no apparently good reason with 5 cds still trapped inside. I went ballistic about this as my car was just broken, is not abused (4 years and 33,000 miles) so the CD player is definitely not abused. I can count on my hands how many times the friggin' thing has actually been used (I am not the type of person who loads the damned thing to drive to Walmart).

My anger continued on and was joined soon after by a seriously horrible sick I assume was caused by the stress headache I had acquired and breathing in all the exhaust. The pack of Marb Mediums I had already smoked due trying to relieve the stress was probably also not helping me too much. It was about this time that I also realized I had forgotten to bring a coat, any sort of non-red-coated ibuprofen (am allergic to red dye) and the rest of my tension-reducing supplies. This also was not helping since I was freezing and beginning to feel homicidal.

Finally, we get into Indiana, where the rain hitting the windshield was freezing immediately on the glass. We're driving along, at about 50 mph due to traffic and suddenly an entire lane disappears into a construction zone with no warning very nearly causing a semi and at least 20 car accident that probably would have killed us all (at this point I also would not have been too opposed to this). Luckily, my quickly going to hell brakes actually stopped the car on the icey road and no one was injured to the best of my knowledge. The screeching brakes of the semi did not help my headache.

Having already consumed 2-gigantic bottles of Mountain Dew (I left the house with 12...I should just main-line it), I had to pee and we needed gas so we stopped at the travel plaza. Hubby was hungry, got some food, which when opened in the closed car, immediately caused me to literally start gagging. And then he asked me to help him with the damned ketchup packets cause he was driving and is like a raccoon and cannot eat anything even remotely dry. So, here I was with on hand clamped over my mouth and nose trying to prevent any projectile vomitting activity and putting ketchup on the most gigantic burger I had ever seen. Apparently, it was my gagging from the smell that prevented hubby from not finishing this burger and not the sheer size of it. But we continue on.

It was about this time hubby's youngest brother called for the final time. It was the final time cause stressed out hubby screamed at him and hung up. Also, the heat craked in the car due to my lack of planning in the proper winter attire department was drying the hell out of my throat and sinuses.

We get about an hour and a half away from hubby's parents' house, doing 95 mph (weather was better in OH) and out of nowhere, the new radar detector literally explodes, sending sparks flying everywhere and filling the car with the stink of burnt wires. It was special and I contiued to shake for the rest of the trip.

As usual, hubby drove right passed the entrance to his parents' subdivision. I attribute this to the fact that we only go to see them at most once a year. We only really ever find their actual house because it's identical to the one they had just built when they lived here in WI, but that's a whole different story (Maybe I'll share it sometime since it just goes to prove how truly anal and creepy they really are).

It was like 2 in the morning and we were exhausted, so we decided to crash. Usually we sleep in their basement, because it gives us a little taste of the separation that we are accustomed to having from the rest of them and keeps us from beating them to death (Every single person in this family with the exception of my two sister-in-laws has a 1-inch temper and there always seems to be something setting them off). This time, we slept in an actual bedroom on an actual bed.

This scenario causes a lot of troubles...for me at least. The last time I slept in this room, I got knocked up which was promptly followed by an abortion (since I don't want kids ever and this family's temperament mixed with mine would be insanely volatile and should not be carried on any further). I am not opposed to killing almost babies (Pro-choice all the way seeing as how it seems to be the only real option I'm allowed...although it will probably be wiped out by terrifying republicans sooner or later - we'll cover this later), but in the end it's a pain in the ass and really not something I would like to go through again. Enough about abortions for now.

This room also happens to be the warmest in the whole house and since their heat kicks in like every ten seconds, it was like sleeping on the sun, causing me to wake up like every ten seconds sweating like a pig and ripping off articles of clothing until there wasn't anything left to take off but my skin and I wasn't ready or willing to commit to that. Plus, I was without the proper skinning tools.

The actual holiday was fine for the most part, with the exception of one minor group argument about Christmas gift giving spurred by hubby's second youngest brother and his new wife, who I actually like now that I've gotten passed all her weirdness. I gotta give her credit for marrying into this family. I'm a strange girl myself, but she's weird in a whole different direction and she has to deal with the lot of them on a daily basis. I don't even talk to them unless I'm visiting them. I actually told them after the trip we had to their house this time around that I was never coming back. I suggested that they just tape a picture of me to my chair at the dinner table and throw some mashed potatos at it every once and while.

Got to do a celebratory dance when I found out that hubby's youngest brother's latest brown girlfriend (this is something that pisses off the fam, which I assume is his way of rebelling) finally dumped his ass. She's super groovy and way too good for him and I spent my last trip there dating her myself (long story) and trying to convince her to drop him and get a real man. Basically every time she asked me a question about the fam in general (It was the first time she had to deal with all of them at once and was meeting most of us for the first time in the 10 months they'd been together and she was mostly curious as to why my mother-in-law kept snarling at her like she was some kind of second-class human being of Peruvian decent), I told her to run. Telling her to run was easier than telling her that she was never going to be good enough for them and that she shouldn't waste another minute trying.

My eldest sister-in-law married to the eldest brother was actually married before and has a son from that marriage, which makes her not good enough. I'm not normal enough and I don't play by their rules, so I'm not good enough, but I live in WI with a state and a great lake separating us, plus I married the black sheep of the family so I get off easy and am cut more slack than the others. Mother in law loves the new one, but then again, she has big plans to be a baby factory and she's all chummy with her.

Anyway, I was very well behaved. I bit my tongue for the most part and played a lot of pool with my eldest nephew who is just learning the game. He beat my ass very many times which made me feel bad, but he's a kid so I couldn't be too angry about it. I won one game of 9-ball. Yeah, me! I like the kid though and I have a very clear picture in my head that he will run away from home and end up on my doorstep sometime soon...followed a couple years later by his sister (currently 5 years old). So far, the jury is still out on the littlest one (currently two and a half years old).

We get up Friday morning, ready to leave and hubby's mother insists on making breakfast. The computer is suddenly broken, so hubby was trying to fix it. I watched news on CNN and while G-Dub mourned, or rather pretended to mourn for popularity points, the soldiers that have died in the desert for no apparently good reason, I mourned the tragic loss of Mr. Miagi (Pat Morita). It was rather upsetting and oldest nephew tried to sympathize with me but he is way too young to know who the man was. Wax on...wax off, forever!

Finally we get in the car after my mother-in-law goodbyed me like 6 different times, most of them I wasn't even wearing shoes for and didn't even know where my stuff was. Hubby started up the car and miraculously after two days of utter hostility and dysfuction, the broken CD changer decided to stop holding my CDs hostage and just started spitting them out. I declared it to be a day after Thanksgiving miracle.

We left hubby's parents' house, headed for Grandpa's storage barn with bad directions. We finally found it and checked the place out. I stepped on a dead flat possum (not spelled right, but I don't care). There was also the decapitated head of a very frozen deer right outside my car door. Ewwww!

Needed gas and were in the middle of nowhere, so we stopped at this former CITGO near a nuclear power plant. There were plane fuselage parts in the yard of this gas station and a million and one cats running around, including and adorable Snowshoe kitten that I tried to abduct, since the woman inside at the counter who was skitting a blanket in her downtime told me they were all just barn cats and she didn't even know how many there were. Anyway, the place was scary and smelled like and outhouse. Got the hell out of there.

Heard 'Faith of the Heart' by Rod Stewart on the radio and had an 'Mmm Captain Archer moment', which caused me to have a mild case of separation anxiety from BEG who I hadn't talked to since Wednesday morning. Got over this pretty quickly when we arrived in Bono, OH, which also smelled like an outhouse and every other building was painted either pink or lavendar and was a 'Gentlemans Club'.

On the way back through Indiana before South Bend, a semi kicked up a gigantic rock and cracked my windshield. Stopped to see Gary in South Bend and had dinner with him. Called Kinkypoe to tell her we were running late. Started to snow on the way out of South Bend. Got though Chi town without a problem. Got back to WI to find we had run out of windshield washer fluid and the roads were a terrible disaster. Finally got home, nearly kissed the ground and decided that we had thrown off the system causing all the bad stuff to happen by traveling to OH more than once in a year. Won't be doing that again.

Mrs. Shortleash and Little Miss Maddy came to visit Saturday morning from all the way across the street. They are expecting baby #3 or #4, not sure. Let's just say it's pregnancy #3 and leave it at that. They're happy and excited.

She also told me of how 'The Puppy' (see puppy post on Part Deux) got drunk and unruly at The 'Hoe on Friday night and was throwing barstools, and how he got his ass kicked by a middle-aged woman and then literally tossed out of the bar onto his ass on the sidewalk. Poor puppy. Will he ever learn.

Also called BEG and requested to be karma's bitch of the holiday.

All in all, the car is apparently possessed, some more serious thought needs to be put into trips to Ohio before we get in the possessed car and I am glad to be back and thankful we made it home alive.

Hope everyone's holiday was better than mine.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Bring It On Beeeach!

Duck and cover BEG, cause your chibis are about to get served by my gothy Asian ninja butterfly chibis, their zombified prisoner and the chick with the bat of accountability...

Monday, November 21, 2005


You have just been invaded by my Chibi's Biatch!

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Only your own Chibi's can defeat us! Muahaha Mine is an Evil Laugh!!!

If not, we will take over and be forced to rename your blog 'This Land'! (That is until the innevitable betrayl of Goody Two Shoes by the Dark, Evil One)

Stop Mocking Me Pepsi!

I think I finally understand why there are so many accidental military deaths...

Picture used without permission, but for the sake of mockery not profit.

Friday, November 18, 2005

My House...In the Middle of My Street

Above: My house with its new roof and driveway on the day the men came to put up the weather vane. It would look better but the landscaping got all wrecked during all the work.

I thought since this is a constant source of amusement and disdain, I would tell you a little bit about my house, which may or may not be haunted. My house was a major steal in a relatively ok, predominately black, urban neighborhood (I am a white girl from a very white county an hour away and this has taken soome adjusting to). It's 6,000 square feet of mostly scary and the only house this large left as a single family in this historic neighborhood. I like it, don't get me wrong. It's a nice house...but there's a lot of it and it should never have been someone's, my, first house. It's also four blocks west of Lake Michigan and built by Alexander Horlick, vice president of Horlick's Malted Milk and mayor of our fair city for two terms. He lived here with his wife, daughter, baby nurse and maid. First off, the house is in really nice shape. 95% of the original woodwork is still intact and completely beautiful and it is very spacious. The woman that last owned it, deceased, had it for 43 years and ran it as a boarding/care facility for sick old people so everything in here now, such as paneling and tile everywhere was done for the sake of durability. I am now working on un-doing all this stuff and making everything pretty again. Because of her use of the residence as a care facility, I also have locking doors in strange places that can block the house into 3 different sections...1 of which we do not even use because we don't need the space and it's cheaper to not heat it during the winter. So, everyone has declared my house very scary. BEG says it's very Amityville and the first time she came out here before we moved in, we went around checking to see if there were human heads in any of the high cabinetry. There's a very scary room in the basement with a hollow floor that our former boarder used to think was hiding the bodies. We have not looked into that, however the room is really creepy and I refuse to go in it for any reason. My mother calls this the Amityville room. Hubby found this creepy, grey wooden trunk with German language writing on it in the garage. It was empty but it was still freaky and now sits in the neighbors backyard mocking me. During the summer the door that separates the second story started to stick. I could still pull it open though, but one night I went up there to inspect strange noises and I literally had all my weight into it and still couldn't get it to open. I had to get Shortleash from across the street to come over and help. We inspected the whole upstairs and didn't find anything wrong. My dogs bark at my rocking chair, which no one ever sits in and has stuff piled on top of it. In the last couple of months, we have had the roof replaced and the driveway replaced. We've been taking a lot of pictures around the house with all the constant changes and some of them have turned up a little bit weird. Generally, I do not get pictures that come out well on the fireplace side of the living room. They are always full of strange glowing orbs and blur marks. This has been on-going since we first looked at the house back in July of 2004. I thought I would share the pictures...

This picture was taken when we did our final walk-through the day before the closing on the house. There seems to be a baby in the bottom left central area of the mirror and a woman's face on the right side of the mirror. I actually didn't even notice until I was organizing all these pictures to blog today. So strange...but gets stranger...
This picture and the ones to follow were taken around Halloween when all the work was being completed finally. I was basically sitting here, bored and noticing how strangely the items on the coffee table were arranged. I decided to take some pictures around the room so I could blog about by horizantal space issues. I was much more amused with what seemed to show up in the pictures and never got around to blogging about my space issues. In this picture there is an eyeball in a glowing orb and a young boys face on the right side of the mirror. This also freaks me out because he looks like this boy I went to school with.
In this picture it looks like an older man wearing overalls and a collared shirt is getting up from my rocking chair. Yes, the one the dogs bark at.
Check the angry demon face. Ever seen the movie Halloween movie, 'The Midnight Hour'? It looks like the zombie judge who was Peter Del...whatever, his dad's the fat guy Dom and I can't spell anything anymore apparently. Moving right along then...
This one looks like there's a woman with a headscarf on the right side of the mirror. Spooky!
This picture features Angus and many a glowing orb. This is generally what pictures taken on this side of the room turn out like.
Next, we have a woman's face in the left central of the mirror bottom. This same face appears again in another picture taken of the house from the outside (next picture)
Same woman's face...different place. This was obviously taken while the roof work was in progress.
And lastly, scary, poofy, face in second story window.
Creeped out yet? Just keep in mind that I gotta live here everyday with all the strangeness.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Better Now

Ok, so my low-self esteem was short-lived. I woke up this morning after a mere four hours of sleep and it's snowing and cold, but today, I don't care. I spent last night pouring champagne down my throat by candlelight and behaving like a stripper/pornstar. This activity led to hubby telling me how hot I am 35 times. Haven't seen him yet today, although he did send me an email that said, "That was awesome, I love u sooooo much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I'm just working on the assumption he can walk. I hope he can walk. Yeah me!

Will post thoughts later, including the recently recovered thoughts from Thursday Nov. 10, 2005 I never posted. Gotta clean up the disaster my living room has become...

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Low Self-Esteem

I'm gonna ramble now...and I know what I'm about to ramble about is gonna piss off one of my friends (Actually it will probably piss off a few of them, but for different reasons), but she'll just have to endure and let me have my moment of whining, since I generally have an overwhelmingly high opinion of myself and it doesn't falter very often. So, here it is...

I spent my summer strutting around in two-piece bathing suits and short shorts. Keep in mind, I do yoga a least four times a week and a dance workout two of the three remaining days. I restore faith in the bikini and there's a flock of men, that literally spent all summer camped out in my neighbor's backyard just to watch me under the guise of a severe need to grill meat. I literally own more skimpy clothing now than is healthy for someone who loves attention (Yes, I am center of attention girl). This summer I very much dove into the world of the less clothing the better, but then again, I also do not have air conditioning in my house so it wasn't really like I was seeking attention (Trying not to melt was more like it). Even so, I was oggled by many and flirted with most.

Today, I wake up to a dark sky (It's like 1:30pm now and it looks more like the middle of the night), rain and a drastic drop in temperature (It's like 40 degrees today and up until today, it was still in the 60's). It's the sort of day that could make anyone want to jump off a bridge, and here I am suddenly finding myself very low on this very dark day.

This surprising streak of low self-esteem could've been brought on by the dark fall which just miraculously appeared as if out of nowhere pretty much putting the kabosh on all outdoor activity, or it could be because I've recently been ill (I actually ran this house out of Kleenex and that's not something that happens often), or the fact that my hubby just accepted a really good job this morning which will have him away (really away) from home Monday thru Friday and sometimes all weekend and I now have to live with the fact that the one person who is legally required to adore me isn't going to be around to do so which is not to say that there aren't others who adore me (I have many fans).

I just feel crappy and not so 'me' right now. And that just makes me feel worse. There's nothing worse than feeling unlike yourself.

I'm all layered in clothing and although, I am warm, it is making me feel fat and useless. The dark is making me tired. Hubby's new job is making my head hurt. And there's no one around to flirt with or to adore me thanks to the cold rain.

This sucks!

Monday, November 14, 2005

The Menagerie

I thought I would share my pets with you, of which there are three cats and two dogs. Here's the the menagerie...

This is Boo (Also known as…The Notorious B.O.O. / Buddha / Mr. Boo-jangles / Boo-regard T. Cat / Mr. Boo Boop-e-doo). I got him when he was 11 weeks old and had the most gigantic feet I have ever seen on a cat (I took one look at him and literally said, “That’s gonna be a big cat!” Of course then I said, “Wrap him up! I’m takin’ him home!”). He still has gigantic feet and likes to hold hands. I originally named him Dexter because he was kind of geeky looking as a kitten with the gigantic feet and all disproportioned like he was, but that only last a couple days. He had this habit of flying out at me all of a sudden and scaring the bejesus out of me, so he was henceforth called Boo (BEG calls him ‘The Notorious B.O.O.’ because he’s so fat). He is a two and half year old Maine Coon. He is large and in charge weighing in at 46 pounds. I literally need two hands to pick him up now. And it’s awfully hilarious when the 5-year old girl (Little Miss Maddy) across the street comes over to play with him and tries to pick him up. She kind of drags him around cause she can’t really lift him (He literally weighs five pounds more than she does). He doesn’t care what she does to him though (they’re buds…and her cat sux). He’s also spoiled rotten. He used to get hand-fed shrimp and would cry when it was time for it. He doesn’t get them anymore though because I can’t seem to find the kind he liked in any store. It doesn’t seem to bother him since I have found a replacement for the shrimp and he eats dog food on the sly now. He also enjoys the whipped cream. He’s sweet as pie and never causes any trouble. It’s probably because he’s too fat and lazy to get into anything. He spends most of his time chirping and rolling about on the floor. Or sleeping, cause what else does a cat do with its time? I love this cat to death. When I feel crappy and am having a bad, this cat is always doing something adorable to make me laugh and cheer me up.

This is Mina, named for Mina Harker (Also known as Mina-puss). I got her when she was eight weeks. She was born on my birthday and has been feisty every day since I got her. She’s nearly a year and a half now. I got her right before we moved so Boo would have a friend. I sort of thought she would grow more though. Around here, she’s known as the suspended-growth cat since she never really got bigger, just fatter. She’s a little demon. I call her angsty. She’s always making trouble, stealing things (my wedding ring, hubby’s socks, pens, my birth control pills, pot-holders, etc.). She also chooses to do this stuff rather noisily during the night so then I have to get out of bed and get my stuff back. Once she tried to steal my fabric scissors, but only made it halfway across the room cause they were too heavy for her. She plays in the ceiling (My house is in the midst of many remodel projects). She climbs the curtains. She also spends a lot of her time taunting the dogs and making them bark and chase her. She’s just wicked. But I love her anyway.

Walter is a pure white Turkish Angora with pale green eyes. He’s four and a half years old now. Walter is the cat I got from these two morons in the process of getting a divorce. The male portion of the moron-age moved into my house (Because I have five empty, and when I say empty I mean empty, bedrooms upstairs) and brought me Walter (who was already three and a half and well-accustomed to his name, otherwise I would have called him something different). They abused the hell out of this cat, and so did the people they got him from. He’d been thrown at a wall, was never given soft food, was never brushed, never really played with or loved, never had toys, they never clipped his nails (which were like daggers when he came here). He was basically a bag of bones when he came to live with me. Their idea of feeding the eight cats they had in their house was to dump a bag of dry cat food in a large Tupperware bowl and let them fight it out. He is a large cat bone structure-wise and weighed a mere 11 pounds when he came here, craving attention. This outraged me and BEG who was familiar with the cat before he came to live with me. I had Boo and Mina already and they are spoiled rotten and have large expensive cat furniture, soft and dry food and anything else a cat could want. Needless to say this was a whole new, beautiful life for Walter and it took some adjusting. He’s good now though and weighs 24 pounds. He actually looks healthy now. Male moron never paid rent or anything and went back to skanky female moron-demon and I got to keep Walter (It was actually more like, “You’re takin’ that cat over my dead body!” this was six months after I got Walter and had totally rehabilitated him to a completely normal cat, even though he still has issues with the nail clipping part of his new life). I call him the consolation prize cat. He was pretty uptight when he came here, but now, he’s all sorts of laid back and great. We often times think he should have a top hat and a monocle. He likes to play on the steps and he sheds like mad, but he’s so purrrty!

This is my Golden Retriever, Angus (named this because he spent nearly two weeks unnamed and just called ‘Puppy’ and Angus was the only thing he would answer to). Angus is nearly 15 months old and he weighs 110 pounds, so he is a large dog. This doesn’t stop him though. He still thinks he’s a cuddly, lapdog. He is as dumb as a box of hammers and will eat just about anything, including human nail clippers, cigarette butts and plaster. It’s really amazing to me that he is still alive. He loves the car and rawhide…and that’s about it. He doesn’t listen to anything I have to say and he growls at me a lot. He is definitely hubby’s dog and not really mine even though, I feed him and everything else and spend all day with him. Angus watches TV and takes up the whole couch and when it gets quiet in here I definitely know he’s doing something he’s not supposed to be doing.

I got Jezebelle (Also known as Busy-Belle / Little Bitty Bella / Belle of the Ball / Dancin’ Queen), a Dalmatian-Pointer mix as a playmate for Angus. I got her from a shelter. She had been moved up here from Kentucky and had been in a bunch of homes that all complained she was too high-energy to keep. We drove two hours north-west to get her and I was like, “If she’s a psycho, we’re not bringing her home.” Because the woman that had her kept trying to tell me that she was a demon from hell. We get there and she was this little 7 month old, 30 pound, bouncy baby and Angus loved her (they are the same age), so we brought her home. She is all personality and she dances on her hind legs, twirling around my living room. She also doesn’t take any shit from Angus. Her name was originally Harriet and then they changed it to Dot when she was moved to Wisconsin. I decided to rename her Jezebelle because when she got here, she was already fixed and Angus wasn’t (He got neutered like two or three days later) so there was a lot of “Angus don’t hump your sister!” being yelled around here. As it turned out, she is not a psycho like they claimed. She’s bouncy, but she’s far better behaved than Angus is or probably ever will be.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Stray Weekend Thoughts


*Bobby Hill is such a lazy little bastard
*Brrr! It's cold up in here!
*Think about the phrase 'African-American'
*Call BEG
*BEG declared that I want to be the queen of blog
*Just yelled, "I have 62 blogs going and 1 jahad!"
*BEG replied, "I wish I had a jahad going." Then she declared a holy war against her cat, Mister and the executives at FOX for cancelling all the good shows [Explan: FOX canceled "Arrested Development", which is just the lastest in shows they've canned that we actually loved and watched faithfully and also own on DVD]


*My hands smells like pennies
*Read Thomas' Nov. 12, 2005 editorial on Pretty entertaining. Writers are missing again. I love Thomas and the trouble that whole crew gets into.
*Have dicussion with hubby about religious fanatics and some guy he works with.
*Hubby playing Gran Turismo 4. I hate Van Halen's Panama.
*Out of nowhere, hubby says, "I can't believe he's a fuckin' delivery guy!" really angrily. I say, "Who?" but then I realize he's talking about college boy across the street with the black Corvette. Hubby is so strange sometimes.
*I have nothing to do.
*I have quarter-size insect bite marks on both of the tops of my ankles and my socks are making them itch. [Explan: These bites are from those Japanese Beetles, which now with the weather change have moved into the house]
*Decide after seeing bites on both ankles all red and puffy from my socks rubbing on them that I may have the stigmata.
*Conclude that if I have the stigmata, God is totally firing someone right now and he's not being a very nice god about it.
*Have vision of a guy in a heavenly office building calling God, Mr. Boss-man and angels gathered around the water cooler making fun of Jesus and how he's lazy and stupid and only has a job there because he's God's son. Hilarious!
*Hubby needs life insurance
*Very, very windy outside. Really noisy. [Exlplan: We had wind advisories all night]
*Am so sleepy.
*Think one of the voices in my head might have Tourette's. Either that or my vocal chords no longer function and I cannot speak.
*No. Can still speak. Told hubby the noise in his video game is irritating.
*This sux!

Doin' the Math

So, last night I was sitting here, thinking about my recent getting pulled over and all the times before that of which there have been a total of 33 in the 6.5 years I've had my license.

This most recent time (11/10/05) I got stopped on the way to Walmart for doing 67 mph in a 30mph zone. The road I was on is a fairy high-traffic area with stores and what not, but it was the middle of the day and everyone was at work. There was no one on the road but me...and apparently the cop who pulled me over. This was my reasoning when I got stopped. I was like, "There's no one else here!". I got off with a verbal warning.

I told this to hubby and he was definitely not amused with my antics and constantly getting pulled over. I was like, a lot of the times were when I first got my Isuzu Vehicross. Cops pulled me over with stupid reasons and basically just wanted to chat about my cute, rare in the U.S. SUV. Totally not my fault and complaints were made by myself to the police dept. to get their officers to stop the insanity.

All this started to make me think though. I have been pulled over 33 times now and have never once gotten a ticket. My motto...When all reasoning fails, try crying.

Crying worked in the case of my second time getting pulled over in the county I have now lived in for a year (I was already crying the first time and rocking out to 'It's the End of the World as We Know It' and it was the middle of the night). I was doing 78 in a 55 on my way back to our old house. I got a written warning...but not for the speeding. Instead it was a 10-day written warning to get the address on my license changed. It wasn't even something I had to go in and prove I did. Needless to say, I didn't do it. It's been very nearly a year and I still haven't done it. Woo-hoo!

So, here's the tally...

# of years I've had my license...6.5 years
# of times I've been pulled over in that time...33
# of tickets...NONE (Total 2 verbal warnings to stop speeding and 1 written warning to change the address on my license)

I get pulled over on average 5.076 times a year. That's very nearly every 72 days.

Of course in this time, hubby has gotten probably five speeding tickets, a couple light out warnings and a gazillion and one seat-belt violations and random parking tickets. Also in this time, a friend of mine racked up a small fortune in parking tickets. I decided my getting off is retribution for their bad driving and proper parking issues.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Viagra Viagra

I got this via junk e-mail this morning. At first the completely yellow screen kept me amused for a while, my liking yellow and all. I studied the diagram and had to send it to BlackEyedGirl for a second opinion, or at the very least so she could laugh as well. It's so quaint that they decided to make it easy on men by providing a helpful silhouette diagram to let help them along on their excusions into Viagra territory...this also comes in handy when they cannot think after taking it because they have no bloood flow to their brain. Notice how in part three of the diagram, the woman appears to be kneeing the man in the groin. I think this is to show just how fed up the woman gets with a hard penis that refuses to go away. Also, I am using this picture without permission. I am using it for the sake of mockery and not profit. Besides, I'm female and don't have any use for erectile dysfunction medications. What else was I gonna do with it?

Thursday, November 10, 2005

A Girl's Life

[Bare with me. I’ve been bumped from a constant flow of Mountain Dew and Marlboro Mediums down to Lipton Iced-Tea and Camel Lights.]

To quote one of my favorite movies (which just happens to be about a high-paid, fancy-pants whore in the midst of war and The Spanish Inquisition)…

“In a girl’s voice lies temptation. Known fact, eloquence in a woman means promiscuity. Promiscuity of the mind leads to promiscuity of the body. She doesn’t believe her yet, but she will. She’ll grow up like her mother did. She’ll marry, bare children and honor her family, spend her youth in needlepoint and rue the day she was born a girl. And when she dies, she’ll wonder why she obeyed all the rules of God and country because no biblical hell could ever be worse than a state of perpetual inconsequence.”

This is a quote from the movie ‘Dangerous Beauty’, said by Moira Kelly’s character Beatrice Venier, when she is trying to convince main character, Veronica Franco to take her daughter when she’s old enough and make her a courtesan so she can live a real life and be free of all she was expected to do.

Veronica’s response, “My cage may seem bigger than yours, but it’s still a cage.”

She was right. She had all the freedom a woman could have asked for and access to libraries filled with books and knowledge. She was free to speak her mind and write her poetry. She could have any man she wanted even if only for the night with a pretty pay-off in the morning.

But she couldn’t have the one thing she wanted most of all. Marco Venier, Beatrice’s brother who could not marry her although he loved her because she was poor and he needed to marry well. As a courtesan, she could have Marco, but she couldn’t really have him.

Beatrice’s life was a life of loyalty, order and quiet. She was tempted by her friend’s freedom and wanted it for her daughter because it was already too lat for her.

Veronica’s life was free, open and chaotic. She lived a fancy life, but it was filled with sacrifice.

Beatrice longed for freedom. Veronica longed for order and monogamy.

Unfortunately, these are roughly the same choices women have today. Society frowns on the whores of today (Unless you’re Paris Hilton), but the basics still ring true. And unfortunately, it doesn’t matter which path you choose.

Option 1.) Get married, have babies and maybe die happy.
Option 2.) Take care of yourself, do what you want, die happy.

Chicks get a bad rap no matter if they’re perfect angels or the skankiest of whores. It doesn’t matter. No matter what you choose there’s still always going to be someone frowning down on you and someone else who would rather be you.

We know this. We learn at very young ages what’s expected of us. We know for all intents and purposes that in the end, we are expected to be good girls, get married, bare children and just basically keep our mouths shut until we die. Even if we choose the other direction, we’re still expected to be well-behaved and do what we do without making a ruckus, in sort of the if we don’t hear it or see it then it just isn’t there kind of fashion.

C’mon, no mother wants to know her daughter sleeps around. No father wants to hear it either. It’s offensive to the choices they made themselves. It riles them up and breeds disdain. And no daughter wants her parents to hate her.

We’re expected to be saints, but when we are, it’s too much or not good enough. And when we’re not fulfilling our womanly goodness quota, we’re like these strange secondary kind of humans let to live to both amuse and enrage those around us, court jesters, if you will.

I got married. I got the big house and all that comes with it. But I follow mine is a different life and hubby knows that.

I am not settling for either of the options. I don’t like boundaries. I don’t like being told what to do. I don’t like expectations. And I really don’t have any inclination to live a life filled with regret for things I never did, so I’m gonna do them. And if they end badly, I’m not gonna make excuses.

There will be no babies tying me down (I was married barely two hours when the demands for grandchildren started). I will not stand in front of a hot stove, cooking from sun-up to sundown just to please my man, nor will I make friends with my monster-in-law. There will be no needlepoint (Well, there might be needlepoint, but not because I’m expected to do it).

If I wanna scream, I’m gonna scream (Same applies to singing, dancing and generally frolic activity). If I wanna throw plates, trust that I’ll throw them (It was hella exciting when the large Corelle bowl smashed against the ceramic floor and shattered all over my kitchen). And if I want to flirt and torture some poor, unsuspecting boy until he just can’t take it anymore, I’ll do that too!

I am an intelligent, adult female. I can handle and take care of myself. And I’m entitled to just as much freedom as any man. I am no one’s property.

I’m not going to rue the day I was born a girl. Instead, I’m going to revel in it!

Tequila shots anyone?