Pooping At Work

Okay, now tears are running down my face for another reason altogether. Holy shit this is funny:

How to Poop at Work

We've all been there but don't like to admit it. We've all kicked back in our cubicles and suddenly felt something brew down below. As much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, the WORK POOP is inevitable. For those who hate pooping at work, following is the Survival Guide for taking a dump at work. Memorize these definitions and pooping at work will become a pure pleasure.

ESCAPEE
Definition: a fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of panic embarrassment. This is similar to the hot flash you receive when passing an unseen police car and speeding. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an escapee, it is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

JAILBREAK (Used in conjunction with ESCAPEE)
Definition: When forcing poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom so to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.

COURTESY FLUSH
Definition: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the nose cone of the poop log hits the water and the poop is whisked away to an undisclosed location. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.

WALK OF SHAME
Definition: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk up the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with all farts, it is best to pretend that the smell does not exist. Can be avoided with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.

OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER
Definition: A colleague who poops at work and damn proud of it. You will often see an Out Of The Closet Pooper enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the Out Of The Closet Pooper before entering the bathroom.

THE POOPING FRIENDS NETWORK (PFN)
Definition: A group of coworkers who band together to ensure emergency pooping goes off without incident. This group can help you to monitor the whereabouts of Out Of The Closet Poopers, and identify SAFE HAVENS.

SAFE HAVENS
Definition: A seldom used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a pooper of your sex entering the bathroom.

TURD BURGLAR
Definition: A pooper who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a dump at work. If this occurs, remain in the stall until the Turd Burglar leaves. This way you will avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.

CAMO-COUGH
Definition: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential Turd Burglars. Very effective when used in conjunction with an ASTAIRE.

ASTAIRE
Definition: A subtle toe-tap that is used to alert potential Turd Burglars that you are occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an Astaire, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.

WATERMELON
Definition: A turd that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a Watermelon coming on, create a diversion. See CAMO-COUGH.

HAVANA OMELET
Definition: A load of diarrhea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an Escapee. Try using a Camo-Cough with an Astaire.

UNCLE TED
Definition: A bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. Could spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An Uncle Ted makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to drop your load when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as the other bathroom attendees.

FLY BY
Definition: The act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

Why I Am Still Crying

1. Will is gone and I am feeling lonely and slightly helpless.
1.5 I am pathetic.
2. Spencer is seeing a shrink (not related to #1).
3. My house is a wreck.
4. The toilet broke last night.
5. The ominous "CHECK OIL" light on my car is glowing brightly despite the fact that there is oil in the car.
6. I have black circles under my eyes.
7. The carpet has not yet been replaced.
8. It is getting cold at night.
9. I can't eat!
10. I am hating my job way too much.
11. I am too lazy to look for a new job.
12. My self-esteem is shot.
13. My cell phone is broken.
14. I have no social life.
15. I am angry with ME for allowing all this shit into my life and for letting it all bug me so much.

Fergie Dashes

Miss Girly Girl Fergalicious the First has finally realized that outside is NOT very fun after all. Sometime between last night and this morning at 8, she made her escape. Not sure, really, when it was, but I was much more alert this morning than I was last night, and I didn't see her sneak out the door in the twelve seconds that it took Spencer and I to get out. This may mean that she has ripped a hole in a screen, but I doubt it (she's not that smart). More likely is that she got out last night, which means that she was out in the pouring rain all night and morning, and boy howdy was she ready to come in at 9:15! Spencer and I heard a cat meowing when we left for school but figured that it was the neighbor's earless wonder cat. Her being out all night would explain the freakage of Death Row, who was losing his mind this morning when I got home. Anyhoo, Fergie's back in the house now and very content to stay there as far as I can tell!

You know what sucks?

Being single. I guess I should have taken MUCH more advantage of the willing, naked man in my bed when I had the chance.
I have realized, much to my chagrin, that being a horndog is directly proportional to how many guys are waiting in line to sleep with you! This must be rectified ASAP.

I was driving home and thought of something funny that happened at work, and remembered that I have no one at home to share it with, and the waterworks have not stopped yet. This being lonely thing can suck it.

Hundred Dollar Bills, Y'All

TGIF. Shit, I have had a hard week.

Good News First:

1. I am not so sad. I'm waiting for the point when I can say, "I have got a date - Friday night at eight - I hardly wait - I cannot be late!" (Nutty Professor, paraphrased)

2. Spencer's leg, aside from some fluid build-up, is fine, as per Dr Koch and an MRI. What they originally thought was a break is actually a bone contusion (aka BRUISE), and the ligaments were stretched but no tears. Hence, no surgery, no cast, no crutches. I swear, if any of the aforementioned options had been fact, I would be running down the street looking for a brick wall to slam my head into.

3. My dad bought tickets for Spencer and I to NYC in December. We're not going for Christmas because a) it's too expensive, b) I hate travelling over holidays, and c) I am not a fan of Christmas. I mean, really, why the hell am I going to spend good money to buy gifts for people I rarely see, just because someone ELSE'S kid was born 2008 years ago? In the immortal words of one fabulous Miss Kathy Griffin, "Jesus can suck it."

4. My meeting with my archenemy co-worker went really well and we are friends again. It's amazing what a little calm, reasonable communication does for a relationship of any sort.

Bad News:

1. I am still sad. Better, but still sad. It's hard to lose your best friend.

2. I just paid all the fucking bills and rent is due in two weeks.

3. The carpet installers never showed up this morning, so there is nasty carpet in my empty living room and all the furniture is jammed into the kitchen. This would be bearable except that I HAVE PEOPLE COMING OVER TOMORROW, GODDAMNIT. I guess we can sit outside. I just called the company and they said that they had to wait because the landlord wanted to get an estimate for cleaning before spending the money for new carpet. Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME??
This is old, white (formerly) carpet we're talking about here, that the previous tenant's dog must have soiled everywhere because there are black stains that have seeped through even after repeated cleanings, and paint spots where they painted the wall -- maroon (yes, they were lesbians). I sent him an email outlining the details of carpet maintenance, and how one cleans it when there is PISS fermenting on the floor below it -- ONE DOESN'T!!! You replace it, and you shut the fuck up because your tenant, who is loyal and has made your yard look better than any other on the block FOR FREE, has been paying $1200 a month since May 2006, and she deserves one damned nice thing in the stupid slum-partment. (post: he just authorized them to replace the carpet. I win.)

4. Spencer is still having issues at school. I am not so convinced that his teacher isn't a little bit menopausal, or PMSal, because she said on Wednesday that he was having a great week, and then yesterday afternoon said (in front of a lot of other kids) that he is so bad that he can't go on their field trip on Monday unless his dad or I chaperone. She also said, "if he spoils it, then they won't let us come back and that will ruin it for all future 5th graders." IN FRONT OF HIS CLASSMATES she said this. Well, it embarrassed poor Spencer to no end, to the point that he was crying by the time we got to the car, and this morning I sent an email to the principal telling him about the situation. I can't fathom that my son is SO BAD that he will ruin things for everyone to the point that King Soopers will never allow a group of schoolchildren to visit their facility again. Damn.

5. CU is playing Miami (OH) in football tomorrow (which is good news) and I don't want to go (that's the bad news). I am emotionally drained and tired, and my Tylenol PM buzzed me out instead of knocking me out last night. I really don't need to see a bunch of old friends when I look like this. I'm sure that they've seen me look worse, but not in the past few years. Ugh. Of course, I must go, and I must go EARLY because Big D is getting into Denver at some ridiculous hour like 7 am, and then we must commence to partying. Tonight is going to be spent shaving, grooming, whitening, digging through the closet, and fighting a sick feeling in my stomach. I haven't been drinking at all (!) because I'm afraid that, just like eating, it will make me puke. Puking = no good, very bad, yucky. So tomorrow should be interesting. Pictures to follow.

Cheerier

Okay, well, THIS ARTICLE just cheered me right the hell up. In a sick and twisted kind of way, but still.

Revelation

I slept exactly 0.0 minutes last night. My blood pressure was too high, and I kept thinking about things like: I must clean the storage area! I need to stop drinking because I have to save money! I have no one to help me with Spencer! I have no one to sleep with! I have no one to have sex with! I am fat, ugly and stupid! I need to finish painting the kitchen! The whole house needs to be cleaned by Saturday! I have so much work to do - oh, that's right, must order furniture for the intern house, make an Office Depot order, enter that new project, research more data storage options! and on and on and on....every time I closed my eyes, I would see something, and they would shoot back open again. I even had songs running through my head and was reading mental blog posts with my eyes closed, my most recent post included.

SO, this morning at 8:00 I took Spencer to school and came home and slept for an hour. I had the weirdest dream. I woke up like, WOW...well, I hadn't thought about that before. But that short and simple dream made me recognize the point in my life when I started thinking that I wasn't good enough for anyone, and when I started accepting anything that was thrown at me, no matter how much it smashed my self-esteem. I realize that it's no one's fault but my own, for taking everything so personally and assuming that I deserve to be treated that way. I think, back then, I wanted the drama. Now it's a habit.

The dream: I was in my old bedroom. My parents were in another room of the house. Out of nowhere, my bedroom door shot open, and in fell (literally) my first and former boyfriend, Paul. He was naked. I laughed and said that he needed to put some damned clothes on because my parents were right there. He was smoking a cigarette, but for some reason that didn't bother me. Paul handed me a folder, and it was filled with things he wrote/painted for me. One of them was a purple piece of construction paper, with a bright yellow/red/orange sun painted in the middle and said, in silver marker, CYNDY IS #1!! #1 WOMAN!!, all over it. There were other things, like poems, in the folder, but that's what I recall most vividly. He sat there smoking and drunk, and asked me when we were going to get married. And, in my dream, I got very very sad because I realized that he didn't really mean any of it at all, just like in real life.

Here's some Paul history: we met when I was 17 and he was 21, and I thought he was SO CUTE. And I thought he thought that *I* was SO CUTE, but really he was on drugs and I could have been Phyllis Diller for all it mattered. I went to his friend's house with him and we made out all night. Nothing more, though he did do something that evening that I have never seen before or again (no, I'm not telling). I thought he was the shit. Too bad that he was married (briefly, he got her pregnant) and lived far away (25 miles is far when you have to ask to borrow the car from your mom and then pay for gas).
In the spring when I was 22, I ran into him again at a bar, and we hooked up that night. We continued seeing each other for a while, but I had to go back to college...he came with me. After about three weeks of witnessing his childish behavior and dealing with his obvious and scary addiction(s), and feeling uncomfortable in my own home, I kicked him out.

I should have known better when I think back on the fact that, at 26, he had no car, no job and his parents gave him money and bought him shirts for job interviews. He never once looked for a job when we lived together. All he did was sit around the house drinking cheap beer and watching talk shows. If he went out, he made inappropriate comments and hit on other women right in front of me. When I made him leave my house, I had to drive him to his mom's house in Michigan and drop him off with all his stuff. I felt such relief driving back home, but also guilt. It was as if I blamed myself for his situation because I couldn't make him "better." I started thinking about when I would see him again -- and I wasn't even home yet from dropping his worthless ass off!

A couple years after that, I sent him a birthday card. What I got in response was a nasty letter from his current girlfriend, saying that he didn't remember me, and that I should never attempt to contact him again. Of course, that was bullshit, but whatever. I went on my way, lived with another alcoholic, had Spencer, etc.

Some ten years later, I received an email from Paul. Ahhh, technology. We started talking on the phone and he would tell me about his kids and impending divorce and talk to me in a way that we had never communicated before. I even talked to his wife a few times; they were merely living together at that point and were more friends than anything. He began talking about how miserable he was in Michigan and how he would love to be in Boulder. He said that he had really cleaned up his act, and he sounded sincere. I told him that he could stay with me if he moved here, until he found his own place. I was so excited to have my cute boyfriend back -- yeah, the one who had previously shown no respect for me at all!

Well (even though it's too late now), to make a long story short, he came to Boulder that summer. He planned to arrive on a specific day but didn't show up. He called the next day, saying something about a delayed flight. When I picked him up at the airport, I could see immediately that I wasn't ready for this. His eyes were bright yellow from jaundice, all his wordly possessions were in two bags, and he reeked. I found out later that he had had an alcoholic seizure in the Dallas airport, and that's why he was late...they took him to the indigent hospital overnight for tests (I found the results in a closet one day - "severe alcoholism, cirrhosis, seizure disease due to alcoholism"...at 40 years old...scary). The second day he was in Boulder, I went to work and he got drunk. DRUNK drunk. Thank God that Spencer was with his dad. Paul was passed out on the couch when I got home, and I couldn't wake him up, so I called an ambulance. In the meantime, I located a garbage bag full of beer cans and an empty fifth of vodka in the kitchen. He drank a CASE of beer and a pint of vodka in ONE DAY. The cops came, the ambulance came, the fire truck came...and they took him out of my house. While an officer was asking me some questions, Paul spat on me. And, still, I packed up his stuff and drove it to the detox center they took him to because I didn't want him to feel lost. The officer wouldn't let me bring the stuff in the building, because he thought that Paul was a danger to me.

Two days later, he was sitting on my doorstep. He had gotten out of detox the day before and immediately got drunk. In the process, he lost his luggage and wallet. I let him in the house and helped make arrangements for him to leave on the bus for another ex's place in Florida (I told her the facts and she still wanted him back and I thought she was SO stupid). I have never seen him again, though his ex-wife sent Christmas cards for a while. I guess she felt bad about sending him my way, but I understand why she did. She wanted him gone and I wanted him back, same as the chick in Florida. Patterns, patterns...

My point in all this blather is that my dream helped me recognize that my pattern of unhealthy relationships started a long, long time ago with Paul. He was the most severe case, but it has always been basically the same. I will do almost anything to keep a partner around, mainly because I'm afraid I will not find anyone else. There has never been a case in my life when I have had a partner who would do anything for me, to make things work out and really TRY. Never. Every single one of them has been dysfunctional to the point that communication is basically a non-issue unless I instigate it, and when I do is when I get hurt, so I avoid doing it. That's saying something really harsh about me, and I see that. Until now, I have always thought that I was being a nice person, doing things for people who treat me like shit, but now I see it's just pathetic on my part. It's time for me to start over again, with a new attitude and respect for myself.

Well, Now I Know...

...what it feels like a) to be treated like complete shit, and b) the true meaning of "he's really just not that into you." And it is sickening and very, very painful to realize that someone for whom you still care deeply JUST DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU. I thought long and hard before typing that sentence, mostly because it hurts a lot to see it in print. I need to remember to not take it personally.

I have a big pile of his stuff sitting by my back door that keeps me on the verge of tears and reminds me just how horribly I have been treated and simply put up with it. Can you believe I packed for him --and washed his dirty clothes in the process -- because he wouldn't come home to face the situation? He just didn't come home. We're on Night Four.

This is NOT how love is supposed to be, but I can see now how people end up in emotionally abusive relationships (no, there was not *intentional* abuse in our relationship). I just kept letting him hurt me and disrespect me, because I obviously have no respect for myself. I am a goddamned doormat. As I sit here with my blood pressure through the ceiling and my stomach aching and tears in my eyes, I see it all very clearly, and it sucks major ass for me. I believe that I wrote almost exactly the same thing not so long ago, so obviously the fact that I was being treated like shit didn't matter enough to me.

I can't believe that I kept trying, that I offered to talk so many times, but he either came home drunk or simply avoided me. Or both. What was I thinking by dragging it out??? I guess I was hoping that it would work, that he would change, that something would be different the next day, because I truly love this guy -- for who I *know* he can be, not the person who came home drunk and was rude and acted like a child. Therefore, I did my part in avoiding, too, but for different reasons.

I should have ended it all in August 2005, when we were first dating, when he came home on drugs, or when (on two different occasions) he left pot in the living room and porn in the DVD player, both of which were found by Spencer. Or on any number of the days when he avoided me because it was easier that way. But no, instead I let him move in with us because he was in a bad roommate situation. And I have been enabling and getting my heart stomped on ever since. See earlier posts for specific examples.

Also, I see now that something is seriously wrong with him, and he's avoiding that, too...not sure if it's depression, but it certainly has much to do with the drinking. As someone who over-imbibes on a regular basis myself yet manages to keep my shit together, and knowing many others who do the same, I can see that his issue is not just the booze. Something is making him behave this way. Maybe it's me. Regardless, it's painful and sad and stressful to watch, and even more so to be on the receiving end of the frustration. I would love to see him function as a grown-up and take responsibility for himself, but I'm pretty sure that it's not going to happen soon. I don't have the energy to drown myself in anger any longer by letting him stay in my life the way he is right now.

I wish that he could love himself, mostly, because there's a great guy in there. It's just that the layers on top have gotten so thick that he's going to have to work really hard to cut through them, and it is very apparent that he isn't ready. And this hurts my heart a LOT, for him and me. And for the lawn, which will suffer indeed. I would be willing to be friends when he's healthier. I would be willing to be more, probably, if the situation were different. But, since I doubt that will happen, I will miss forever the way our bodies fit together and the perfect spooning.

When I told Spencer this afternoon that it's just the two of us now, he asked me if I found any drugs or dirty magazines in the closet. Sigh.

My email to a friend this morning:

"Will and I went to dinner on Friday and had a relatively good time. Then we made the mistake of going to the Pub. About a half hour after he went downstairs to play pool, a mutual friend came upstairs and told that I ought to know that Will was down there talking about how happy he is to be free of me, and how now he can chase chicks (Will was much ruder than that, apparently, but I can’t bring myself to type it or I’ll cry). Whether or not he means it is beside the point...I read him the riot act, and went home. He hasn’t been home since. I was meeting some friends at the Pub the next day and saw him but we didn’t speak. Same for Sunday, when I met a friend to watch the Broncos game. I brought Will his phone and toothbrush, but just set them down and walked away. He didn’t make a move to speak to me. One thing he’s not going to do is make it uncomfortable for me to go to the Pub, and I guess he knows that now! I have no idea where he’s been staying or how he’s finding clean clothes....my guess is that he will pick up his stuff when I’m not home, and that we will never speak to each other again."

Bad day

So, after a lovely day at work during which a co-worker, notorious for her complete lack of social skills, yelled at me and made me cry...and I couldn't stop until this morning...Will and I had a talk last night...actually, I had the talk and he stared at the Food Network, except for when he was telling me that I was wrong. He didn't respond when I told him that I would still be willing to work on things -- but, once he walks out that door with his belongings, that's the end. I don't do "back together" because it ends up being "apart again" soon enough and it adds that much more pain to the already feeble heart.

He said he wants to remain friends, and I said that I will remain friendly, but not friends. I will give him a nice smile when I see him and I will be polite to his dates, should I run into that situation. And then I will probably turn around, go home, and cry, at least for a while. Time heals, right?

Who knew how painful this would be, especially considering how pissed I have been at him and how relieved I know I will be when he’s out of the house and I can stop worrying about his drunken, disrespectful, hurtful behavior? I will certainly miss his company a lot of the time, and it will be hard to not wait for him for dinner, and the bed will be very big and cold.

And now I'm crying again. Too much stress at one time...kid with an injury and a bad attitude at school, feeling pulled all directions at work and hence feeling miserably incompetent at all of it, and now a break-up of a 2+ year relationship and pseudo-engagement (yes, I had ringS. I gave them back last spring because I realized that he never meant to marry me. I figured it out when my pregnancy scare turned out to be just that, and he did tequila shots in celebration while I cried).

At least I should lose some weight out of the deal, given that I have had about two bites of food since Monday and I walk all the time to burn off some heartache. I haven't felt hungry. Mostly all I've felt is sadness and anger and stress and pain, which is really not very healthy. The only thing that would help -- right this minute -- is if Mr Perfect came out of the woodwork declaring love and bestowing gratitude for my existance, which would be such a stark comparison that I wouldn't be able to help cheering up on the spot. And I am NOT saying that I need a man. I just need to be shown the light in such a humongous way that it's like a slap in the face -- I DESERVE BETTER.

Oh WOW

Now THIS is a lovely and talented bunch. I'm guessing the mean IQ of all six of them is about 45. Jesus H. And WTF is up with MSN using the term "N-word" a million times and reporting that it "might be a hate crime?" NO FUCKING DUH it was a hate crime! How do people like that exist in this world? I think we should bring back lynching but reverse the roles -- let's make it legal for Black people to put on black robes with pointy hats and chase down ignorant redneck hillbillies, and string them up from trees and then cut their balls off and stuff them in their mouths, before pulling the bench out from underneath their feet. Paybacks are a bitch.

News, briefly...

1. Spencer fractured his tibia last week at football practice. Season over. No cast, but he's on crutches and isn't supposed to put weight on the leg. More x-rays in 10 days; if it isn't healing, then they will cast it. Pictures to follow.
2. Spencer has been rude to his teacher lately and hence has been put on a daily behavior rating scale of 1 (bad) to 5 (best). If he gets three 1's between now and the end of the school year, she's kicking him out of her class. His dad and I have been discussing moving him down there for school. He's seeing a shrink (we all are) next Weds.
3. Will is moving out on Friday.
4. I am facing about $1100 a month more in bills.
5. My blood pressure is through the roof.

Time to give up the license!

I have often seen THIS WOMAN driving around my neighborhood and thought to myself, "that woman in the Subaru is a terrible driver...she needs to start taking the bus!" Apparently, she was really creative in her reckless driving, because the utility box she hit is in between two trees, both of which she missed with her car. Yet another reason why I won't let Spencer bike to school.

Country Grammar

This note from a lovely man named Ali was among my MySpace messages this morning:

"hi cynthia and how you doing you looking sweet cute beautiful lady so i,m fun easy going guy funy person i,m interest to get to know you and hang out have fun and good time so if you interest to go for date dance movie walk talk etc we can have alot fun take care bye . "

Just perfect. Dude knows how to woo the bitches, TRUE DAT.

Have You Ever....

read the blog of someone who is, to put it very nicely, A BIG PUSSY? There is a blog that I follow written by a person who absolutely has ZERO control over his/her life. Constant complaining about the job, the asshole with whom this person lives, how everyone is out to get him/her and there is nothing he/she can do about it. I have said it before and I'll say it again -- READ THE FOUR AGREEMENTS AND GET A FUCKING GRIP. GEEEEEEEEEzus. I mean, yeah, we all complain and bitch about our lives and situations, but at least most of us accept some or all of the blame. No one can live your life but yourself, and if you spend 99% of the time saying how much everything sucks and yet do nothing to change it, then fuck you. Go ahead and ACTUALLY FOLLOW THROUGH with your threats to off yourself. I think it's pretty funny (not ha-ha funny) when people "try to kill" themselves by doing some lame shit like swallowing a bottle of aspirin or slitting their wrists the wrong direction. Are they so incredibly lazy that they can't even do the research beforehand? NOOOOOOOOOO, it's just that they don't REALLY want to get dead. And the rest of us hope that they don't, but there's only so much self-pitying annoying griping that we can stand, so please, if you are one of those persons who are really serious about being dead and you're such a dumbass that you can't accept responsibility for yourself, then please get it right and allow us to be sad for the three seconds during which we aren't thinking what a moron you were, and be done with it.

On the road...

Spencer said, upon seeing a hawk in flight,

"It sure would be awesome to be able to fly. You'd never have to use your legs.
Except to stop for ice cream."

What's Wrong With This Picture?

Him (drunk and yelling inappropriately at midnight): "Hey, hey, hey...let's have a contest to see who can lose 10 pounds the fastest. It would be COOL! Yeah, I'll win because I NEED to lose 10 pounds RIGHT NOW because I am a fat slob and no one loves me. HEY!!!!" (interspersed at a couple of points with, "GOD, I LOVE this FUCKIN MOVIE! Batman Begins RULES!")

Me: "No thanks." (Quietly, since Spencer is asleep (found out this morning that he actually heard every word))

Him: "What -- you want to stay the way you look NOW?" (scoffing and then laughing rudely)

Me: (silence.)

Wow, being loud and drunk on a Sunday night when your girlfriend's son is asleep right upstairs, now THAT'S cool. Never ever having to clean the house or wash the sheets or buy toilet paper or toothpaste, or scrub the toilet or sweep up dust bunnies or call the plumber or weed the garden or pay for the insurance or make sure that there's milk in the fridge -- well, that's the coolest thing of all, because apparently the Idiot Fairy takes care of all that for you even though you constantly behave like an asshole and somehow manage to top yourself nearly every single time.

I am a jackass.

Fuck that shit, I'm DONE. If you can please direct me to the store where they sell grown-up men who behave like adults (not that there's anything wrong with getting drunk and dirty on the night when the kid's at his dad's), I WILL PAY LOTS OF MONEY.

Helping Spencer write a po-em

There once was a woman from France
Who refused to wear underpants.
When she stuck to the seat,
She said, "OOh, man, that's NEAT!"
And then did a victory dance.

Headline of the Day

Courtesy of www.kmgh.com.

"You Could Own Barry Bonds’ Ball"

But DADDY, I want TWO of Barry's balls!!

This is what happens...

when you send a kid to Mexico with his DAD in the SUMMER. That's right, a peeling tan on top of a tan. But the Coppertone tanline is something else...


Tackle football started Monday. God, take me now.

Kitten Love

"Do you love the...

sweet jiggle of lard in the morning?"
"I LOVE the sweet jiggle of lard in the morning. Smells like victory."

Our friends CYNDI AND JON are moving to Belgium for six months so that Jon can go on with his bad self, racing cyclocross and generally being very cool. They sold their house here, but we all have our fingers not-so-secretly crossed that when they come back they'll find something perfect in our neighborhood.

Cyndi (actually LEAH) gave us a groovy loft bed for Spencer, which will about double the living space in his room.

Also, since it's really not best to have it in a storage unit due to weather issues, we graciously offered to keep this for them until they get back:



36 inches of flatscreen loveliness. Football season is going to ROCK this year!! (of course, we'd rather have the Baker family than a TV any day, but they will be enjoying themselves so much that it's all righht)

Call of the Day

Kat, our receptionist at Rocky Mountain Institute, has lots of funny tales of phone calls she receives. Most of the callers are old men who have nothing better to do all day, so they ring us up wanting to "chat with" Amory Lovins, our Chief Scientist and co-founder, who charges something like $20K per speaking event (I know -- who the hell does he think he is, Nancy Pelosi or some shit like that?)

Needless to say, Kat must divert these calls to other people besides Amory, because he is a terribly busy man what with being brilliant and tending to his banana plants and talking to monkeys and all. Really. I have BEEN TO HIS HOUSE and he has banana plants in an arboretum in the main hall and stuffed monkeys everywhere. He talks to bonobos in zoos. TALKS to them. As in, the keepers just let him go into the cages and have tea and scones with Binky and Mfufu, and they chat up about things like current politics of the jungle and how unfair it is that monkeys can't throw poo at zoo visitors without serious repercussions.

Anyway, back to the phone calls...the best is when the caller says something like, "Uhh, yeah, um, I knew Armory [real name = AMORY] way back when, and I was just, um, wondering if he'd talk with me for just a minute about..." segueway into 5-minute detailed old man nothingness. This I know to be true, as I sit in for Kat at the front desk on a revolving basis, and yesterday I had a call during which, for SEVEN MINUTES, this old coot rambled on nonstop and I COULD NOT interrupt without hanging up on him. Fucker. So here is a good one from this morning, which Kat emailed to me after she stopped rolling convulsively on the office floor:

Kat: "Good morning, Rocky Mountain Institute"
Caller: "Hi, Can I talk to Ebony Lubbins?" [note, again: AMORY LOVINS]
Kat: "May I ask who's calling?"
Caller: "The next Pulitzer Prize winner. I woke up this morning and had the energy crisis answer!!"
Kat: "Wow, sounds like a busy morning."
Caller: "Indeed, I think I might explode!"

Game of Tag

I don't know what the hell a "tag" is, but I got this list from another blog, so I'm filling it out. I guess that's what you do -- if you read this Blog, then you have to copy the list to your own Blog and fill in your own answers, right??? To keep it going...

5 things I was doing 10 years ago.
1. Dealing with a baby in very hot weather
2. Trying to lose "baby weight"
3. Wishing I lived somewhere else
4. Having dinner cocktails with Grandpa around the corner
5. Learning how to use the internet

5 snacks I enjoy
1. cheese and crackers
2. popcorn
3. nachos
4. potato chips
5. cold pizza

5 songs I know all the words to
1. All the songs on Born To Run
2. All the songs on Choclate Supa Highway
3. Random by Lady Sovereign
4. Rapper's Delight (long version) by Sugar Hill Gang
5. Smile by Lily Allen

5 things I would do if I was a millionaire
1. Buy a fabulous beach house
2. give money away - a lot of it
3. travel
4. Buy a Victorian house and re-do it (multi-millionaire, I guess!)
5. Adopt a child

5 bad habits
1. I interrupt
2. I gossip
3. I pick at my nails
4. I procrastinate
5. I drink too much

5 things I like to do
1. garden
2. sleep/read
3. hike
4. cook
5. spend time with those I love

5 things I will never wear again
1. Huskies from Sears
2. Garanimals
3. A bikini (hell, a one-piece at this point!)
4. A restaurant/gas station uniform
5. A college guy

5 of my favorite toys
1. my new 120 GB hard drive
2. my cell phone
3. my camera
4. Spencer's Game Boy
5. My kittens

OK- now I don't know who to tag- but if you read this blog and you have a blog- you are tagged. How's that!

Chappelle's Show - Prince vs Charlie Murphy

This is too freakin funny. I watched it like three times in a row and was screaming every time.

Kittens Gone Crazy

Our kittens might just possibly be the cutest animals EVER. They do all the hideously inappropriate kitten things: scramble around the house all night like beasts gone mad, and climb the screens, and jump on the table to eat our food, and attack anything that moves. I could go on...wow, I guess that kittens are really just cute little pains in the ass! Pudge has now figured out what they are, and he is NOT happy about it. He routinely hisses and slaps at them when they try to make him the Baby Daddy and suckle on him (they don't know he's a boy, I think). Aw HELL no, he ain't takin none of that shit! It's pretty funny to watch him try to resist their kitten charm.

The best thing lately is that Jethro has discovered the cursor on my laptop. He sits on the desk next to the computer and tilts his head to one side and goes apeshit when I move the cursor to the bottom of the screen, because he can't find it anymore and apparently assumes that it went out the back side of the computer. So then he leaps back there and starts meowing frantically and sticking his head around to check out the screen again. Typical baby behavior, I suppose, but usually it's reserved for HUMAN babies!

Next best: last night I came in the house and saw Fergie dart across the living room with two orange foam earplugs sticking out of either side of her mouth like tusks.

This is stuff that I can't get pictures of, sadly, because it all happens too fast!

Note to self: remember that this weekend is when the mosquito bite swelled your upper lip to the size of the biggest baddest Ubangi in the jungle.

Water Fun -- and Fergie

You have to click on the pictures to see the detail, FYI.


Monday: funny Fergie picture...she actually stayed with her back legs like that for about 10 minutes, while she was holding Pudge's foot. It was really cute. And a picture of them all being lazy together. I'm now okay with leaving them alone for 36 hours while we're in Aspen.


click on the pic below to see Maliq on the corner with the sign!

Spencer, Brianna and Maliq had a car wash on Sunday. They were mildly successful. Maliq got scared right after this picture and refused to return to his post on the corner holding the sign....the cops drove by and he was convinced that they would arrest him if he stayed there holding his sign. Too funny. My house has been like a living Benetton ad all weekend...LOL

Maija, Gilroy, Indra and Zeke came over to hang out on Saturday, and Zeke spent the night. It was so frikkin hot that the kids played in the water all day. Apparently, it was to become a theme for the weekend!

FINALLY...they sleep

SHE HAS A NAME!!

She's Fergalicious!! Okay, just Fergie...and you can see her swirls in this one (click on it)...I can't believe she sat still so long! More on Jethro to come.

DOG? Who needs a DOG?

We looked at a couple of dogs (including a black lab named Teal who is SO FAT that her vagina prolapsed and popped out. Not the most pleasant thing, but it will go away and she is SO SWEET.) Ahem, instead, we ended up with two little bitty 12-week black kittens instead. They're both semi-feral (one, the girl, moreso than the boy) and they must come from the planet Spitfire because they have been chasing each other up and down the stairs and around the couch, and they are having NOTHING to do with Pudge. When we first got home from the Humane Society, I opened the box with Pudge standing there, and one of the kittens hissed and spit and stuck a clawed foot right out of the box. HAH! Paybacks are certainly going to be a bitch for Pudge who, 12 years ago when I brought him home, immediately tried to kill Peep -- some 7 years and 24 pounds his senior -- and freaked Peep right the hell out. Remains to be seen, as I need to get these two calmed down enough to let me take a picture, let alone meet Pudge! I got a couple of shots but can't tell you who's who. I'll do better next time, I promise. Little Man is asleep on the steps and Little Girl will NOT sleep, even though the HS sent her bed with her because apparently she usually never gets out of it. I haven't seen her look at it once since we got home. OH, and they both pooped in their box already! Woo Hoo!
Normally I would not get one kitten, let alone two, but I doubt that Pudge would tolerate a grown cat in the house without many a blood-curdling, fur-flying, emotionally devastating encounter -- plus, they had so many kittens at the HS that the price was marked down from $145 to $25 each. We almost got a third, a teeny-weeny named Commander Zim, who is 8 weeks old and the runt and SO CUTE. I might go get him tomorrow. Hell, what's one more?? Plus, he is SO CUTE. I just looked at his picture online again and got teary. SO CUTE.

Boy = Jethro (the name the HS gave him, which we think is cute and also apropos since Will bought Jethro Tull tickets today)
Girl = ??? They named her McMonagle, because she has faint swirling visible under her fur (like a black panther in the sun), and for some reason that is a Scottish trait (or something), but I'm not a fan of that name.

Suggestions? So far, we have come up with Minstrel and Velvet, and Elly Mae. She is SO not an Elly mae, though.

Dead Cold Duck

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My Daily Dose...

of "You Are Inadequate":

In my inbox this morning:

"Cynthia, I am so sorry. My schedule got really messed
up today and I didn't get your message until late this
evening. It was great to meet you both. I have decided
to pursue another family for Mea. I really hope you
find a great dog for your family. Hope all is well and
that you had a great weekend. Take care. marc"

So we're not getting the dog. Spencer's dad drove him up yesterday afternoon for the express purpose of meeting Mea at 3 pm. When the owner didn't return my phone calls, you can imagine the drama that built up. Spencer was heart-broken. And when I had to call him this morning to say that the dog is going to another family, I thought he was going to die sobbing. A bit over the top, perhaps, since he has never actually met the dog, but I think he sensed my excitement. So, yet again, my little boy has been crushed by the Dog That Was Not To Be. I keep reminding him that we really don't want to go through another episode of "the wrong pet," but it isn't much consolation.
Deep down, I think that Mea's owner is keeping her. She really is a great dog and a beautiful animal.

Dog

Update: Mea is a GORGEOUS animal! Even Will thinks so. She's totally clumsy (she fell down the steps when we first went in the house!) unless she's running, at which point she transforms into a graceful, almost horse-like creature. Oh, and she SHEDS. A LOT. And did I mention that she's BIG?? BIG. Three feet long and about as high. Eye-to-eye with any 5-year-old she meets. But she's well-trained, well-loved, very gentle, and can go off-leash at the dog park without running away. Imagine! wishwishwishwish that we get her! Spencer's meeting her on Sunday afternoon. Another update ahead!! (and, if we do end up being her people, I'm changing the spelling of her name to Mia)


Here's the dog I'm looking at getting:




Her name is Mea, and she's a LEONBERGER

Will says that if I get a dog, he's leaving. Anyone looking to rent a room?? Apparently I will have a free one soon.

Anyone? Bueller??

Can anyone tell me why my supposedly "regular" zucchini (the slender, green kind) looks like THIS???? (FYI, both fruit are about 6 inches long and the big one is about 10 inches around at the thickest part) Maybe I planted it too close to a yellow squash plant??? The only other squash nearby is spaghetti, and I was told that they will never cross-pollinate since one's a winter (spag) and one's a summer (zuke) variety.

*Hatchet, I don't know if you actually even read this blog, but you seem to know an awful lot about gardening, so if you're here, any advice is welcome!!
:-)




Gardening success: I nabbed this (along with 4 other 14" hanging baskets!) from the dumpster behind a flower shop about 4 weeks ago. Check it out....a little love and flower food got me this (the others are almost as impressive):

The Anonymous Blog vs. I AM A BIG FAT BITCH Blog

Okay, so I have been feeling guilty since I wrote about and posted photos of the spider on my neck. Red Flashlight sent me the lovely comment about how the dying spider (yeah, yeah) was a "poor creature" and I wrote back that I just wanted the little fucker to die. [If I had any idea how to link to a previous blog entry, I would, but for now you just have to go find it.]

THIS right here is a good reason why having an anoymous blog is cool...because Mr/s Red wouldn't know that I am an actual human being who may or may not know someone he/she knows in real life, I wouldn't have to worry about it, either, but now I have taken the form in some random person's head as being an awful human being who mercilessly allows small *things* to die slow and ugly deaths. Never mind the fact that, had that arachnid touched me again in any way, shape or form, I would have screamed so loud that Jesus incarnate would have come down out of the sky and punched me in the face repeatedly until I shut up. Nor the fact that Mr Mangulated got up and left his "dying" place (ostensibly to go to the basement...you know the story).

I'm not scared of spiders, or any insects, nor do I wish them any harm, but this thing was ON MY NECK, unbeknownst to me, and when I touched it, I freaked to the ultimate of freakdom. YUCK. I cannot say it often enough or loud enough (sorry, Jesus)...YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. YUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCK

ANyhoo, I apologize to everyone and every creature and Jesus and my dead grandmothers. There, I have been absolved.

**sigh.**

"You have more rolls than a pastry truck!" ~ Spencer, age 10 to me, his long-suffering mother. There's nothing so conflicting as having a really sharp-witted child.

Above statement was immediately retracted, of course.

Sunday on the Mall

Yesterday, I was being my usual drunken summer self and went to the Pub for some company. I met two very lovely women from New York who are in town teaching at the Summer Writing Program at Naropa. We sat and discussed everything from Sugar Mamas to the Marley sons. I have swiped their images from the Naropa website, mostly just because if they're famous I want to remember that I met them!!


Tisa Bryant
Tisa Bryant’s writings, Unexplained Presence and Tzimmes, traverse the boundaries of genre, culture, and history. She is currently reworking [the curator], a meditation on identity, cinema and the lost films of imaginary auteur Justine Cable. She teaches at St. John’s University, Queens, lives in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, and is a founding editor/publisher of the hardcover annual, The Encyclopedia Project.

Akilah Oliver
New College of California
Akilah Oliver is a poet and performance artist. Her most recent publication is An Arriving Guard of Angels Thusly Coming to Greet (Farfalla, McMillan & Parrish, 2004). She is also the author of the she said dialogues: flesh memory, a book of experimental prose poetry honored by the PEN American Center’s “Open Book” program. She has read and performed her work throughout the country as a solo artist and as a founding member of the post-feminist performance arts collective, Sacred Naked Nature Girls. She has been artist in residence at Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Center in Los Angeles, and has received grants from the California Arts Council, The Flintridge Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation. She currently teaches at the University of Colorado, Boulder. She teaches poetry and cross-genre writing workshops and courses in critical theory and cultural and literary studies.

WTF do you do when it's 98 degrees?

I tried everything...cleaning the house in prep for Bash 2007, finishing the kitchen paint, doing laundry, gardening (geeez, that was MISERABLE!), hanging up clothes in my bedroom (even hotter than the garden was), etc. My final answer: go sit on a patio somewhere, order a big tall blueberry Stoli and soda, pull out the American Spirits, and look for cute guys to make the boyfriend jealous.
For those of you in Finland who could not hear it, the b/f and I had a STELLAR argument last night, the result of which includes a video of his snoring drunk ass (soon to be posted!) and my engagement rings being deposited in his underwear drawer. I'm pretty sure that he remembers nothing of the evening's events. Charming. The video's pretty sweet. You know what? I'm going to try to figure out how to post a video RIGHT NOW. Crap, I can't figure it out...hints???

For RedFlashlight: no animals (including arachnids) were harmed during the filming. :-)

Dogs and Sweat

So here I was, planting my front yard in the million-degree heat, and this chocolate lab comes running up and slobbers all over me. No "guardian" (in Boulder, no one OWNS an animal) in sight, so I gave required love and then ignored the dog. Minutes later, my neigbor comes over and says, "Is this your dog? because she just came right in my house and freaked out Ellie" (her dog.) SOOOOO, I grabbed a leash and took the dog for a big long walk all around the park, and no one claimed her. I did hear a lot of "good find!"s, though.
I brought her home, gave her back to the neighbor (they're used to having dog shit all over the yard) and called the Humane Society. As luck would have it, I got my friend Kris on the phone and not only let her know about the dog, but also got the chance to invite her to our STELLAR 4th party. Turns out that someone had just minutes prior called in a lost dog named Marley (on our walk, I was calling her "Kelly", though she had no name tag) who ran away on Sanitas (I live at the bottom). Anyway, loving reunion ensued and it was all very cool. Oh, and my neighbor and I had assessed her age (the dog's, not the neigbor's) to a tee (1.5 years).
WHY DO LOST ANIMALS COME TO *MY* HOUSE???? It has been like this since I was little. SPIDERS (yeah, yeah, whatever) aside, animals know they're so very safe with me. I love that.

Unsafe Sex

COLUMBIA, S.C. -- Police on Wednesday were investigating how a naked couple fell four stories from the roof of a downtown office building to their deaths.
The man and woman were found near the sidewalk by a passing cab driver around 5 a.m. Wednesday. One person was pronounced dead at scene and the other died a short time later at a local hospital.
Clothing was discovered on the roof, leading authorities to suspect the couple, in their early 20s, may have been having sex. Their identities were not released.

"It's too early to rule out anything," Columbia police Sgt. Florence McCants said, but McCants said a preliminary investigation didn't show any sign of foul play.
The roof of the building is pyramid-shaped.

Welp, it happened. Check it out (click)

When I got up this morning, the spider was gone. GONE. NOT THERE. Somehow it dragged its mangulated hideous corpse off of the CD sleeve -- leaving one leg behind -- and went to the basement, where it will morph into the creature of my worst nightmares and come upstairs in the middle of the night to stick its thingy (not THAT thingy, I just forget what it's called...mandible??) into my ear and turn me to mush from the inside out and then slurp up my guts and leave behind a withered shell. This is going to be worse than a bikini wax. On the bright side, at least I'll be skinny.

For Sarah (but you can look, too):

You'll want to click on all of these pictures to enlarge them for detail.

THIS is what was on my neck tonight. I felt something itchy there, and I scratched at it, and it felt like a little pill, so of course I screamed like a girl and threw it, and it ended up all rolled into a ball on my cd case. I have been watching it drop legs and try to die for an hour now -- but it refuses to die and sometimes twitches around and I'm freaked out that any minute now it's going to turn into a 12-foot tall giant with 6 legs (and a couple of creepy gappy spaces) and then hunt me down and kill me in my own house. I am going to shudder until Saturday just thinking about it.


Funnier note: here's Greg with our buddy Fazel. Notice that he is exuding his usual charm. Imagine how mad he'd be if he knew I posted his picture here. LOL (jesus h christ on a bicycle ridden by a fish, it's moving again. shit)


Here is my little side garden after I planted it:


And the clothesline garden, before and during. I don't have an "after" photo yet:

From the mouth of the babe...

1. "Uhoh, my barn door's open, better not let out the cow!" (upon noticing that his zipper was down)

2. "Yeah, so last night I had the squirts, and it smelled like eggs and rubber. Oh, and weirdly, a little motor oil thrown in the mix."

Quote of the Day

I was screaming when I read this...tears were involved and now I am The Crazy Lady at work:

"I will forward you some pics when I get home. The one in particular that bothers me just makes me want to hide in a hole for the rest of my life. I don’t dare get a face lift or suction as I will probably end up looking like one of those people that had their ears repositioned to the backof their heads. Good grief. This aging thing is for the birds."

Thank you, Sarah!!

Backyard transformation

I bought about 400 pounds of quality dirt/planting soil, and filled in a big hole in the side of the yard that was left when an old tree was dug up. I planted some lovely flowers there, but I think they might all wither from lack of morning sun. If that happens, I'll just replace them with shade plants. Then I took this little table that I dumpster-dived from the flower shop downstairs from my office (nice how the owner caught me in the act) and put a concrete planter on it and filled it with water for a birdbath...so far the birds haven't dug it, but I guess that even if I had the Trump Palace of bird feeders, it doesn't negate the fact that there are many many lurking skulky cats in the immediate vicinity! Oh well, it looks very cute and my resin frog is having a great time lounging on it. Here is a photo of the renovation in the act:

I'll post more pictures when I'm done with this and Project Number Two, which is to remove 8000 pounds of river rocks from around the base of the clothesline pole, and fill the whole thing in with perennials. Project Number Three is to beautify the fence along the side of the front of the house. After freezing one night last week (and burning my GD spaghetti squash that I lovingly raised from seed!!!), it is now nice and hot (90) and things are starting to grow. I spent 5 hours at my community garden plot today, digging up the north half and planting everything that was left. Good thing I didn't put it all in the ground last week; the freeze would have taken most of it out. Oh, and I got a healthy sunburn on my back where my tank top meets my shorts -- or, more accurately, where it does NOT meet my shorts when I'm sitting down or bending over!

Bought myself a nice little HP Photosmart all-in-one printer, so now I can scan stuff!! Woo hoo....kid in a candy store!!

Gratuitous Pudge Shot (because he COULD NOT BE CUTER. EVER):

Cats 'n Bugs

As we speak, there is a GINORMOUS moth in my kitchen. I took these pictures of it. All I had close at hand to compare it with was a tin of Altoids. Everyone knows how big a tin of Altoids is, right? Okay, so you get it that this is one BIG ASS moth (do moths have asses???)




Gratuitous Pudge photo:

Speaking of cats, last night when we were stumbling home from the mall, a cat found us and followed us home. Wow, was this ever a SWEET kitty! His name was Merlin and he had a phone number, so we called his people. When the lady answered the phone and I told her we had her cat, she said (I shit you not), "hey, do you maybe want to keep him for another week? We're going on vacation."

Dear God.

Anyway, I said certainly not, but I was more than willing to NOT give her my address so that she could NOT come pick up the cat of which she was obviously so very very fond. In the end, she did come pick up the cat, but I let her know that we would take him if she decided that he was just too big of a burden for her lazy ass. I expect that he'll be back. He was gone for three days when we found him, which is just too sad considering that they live about 6 blocks away, right in the guts of lion country...

Spencer Quote 'O' The Day

"The whole point is to be a misfit, Mom.
It's all about being independent.
I am a strong woman, just like the mother before me!"
("only I'm not a woman...")

Fond of Panties

The caption of this photo, featured at KMGH.com, is:
"Panty Theft Victim Identifies Undergarments"
but I thought it said "Panty Theft Victim REMEMBERS Undergarments"
and I was thinking,""hmm, apparently quite fondly, too"
and then I re-read it and started laughing so hard that I might have peed a little.

WTF is this world coming to???

I ran into a roadblock this morning on the way to work. Figured out what it is:

from the Daily Camera:
"Boulder High School Locked Down Over Suspicious Incident
Boulder High School was locked down before school started
Thursday morning after two people wearing camouflage were seen near the school."

There are helicopters, state police, ambulances, etc etc all over the place. I'm guessing that the two people wearing camo are feeling pretty special right now.

Our world is fucked up, yo.

Letters to the Editor, Boulder Daily Camera 5/7/07

Help us help get kids into school

We are raising awareness, and we want other people to take part so that all children can get a good education and job. Did you know that 80 million kids are not in school because they have to work in dangerous jobs just to get enough money to get food and water?

We should be able to get those kids in school by 2015, but this can only be achieved if action is taken now.

Our fourth-grade class asked our school community members to add to our paper chain, representing our support for education, that we will send to Angela Merkel, the leader of the G8. We are also inviting people to our Global Kids Unite concert to raise awareness about all the children in the world who need all the help they can get.

The aid needed to send all children to school each year would be $10 billion. Guess how much money is spent on education in Ethiopia? Only $2.50 per child per year. That's why we are putting a lot of effort in to raising awareness for them.

Go to www.joinup.org to find out how to take action.

MADDIE VENEZIANO

KIRA SNOW

SPENCER LINDSTROM

and the fourth grade class

Flatirons Elementary

Slow Blogging

SOON, I will have something festive and interesting to blog about. I will take many pictures and dream up fanciful dialogue and create amazing artistical renditions of my emotions. But not right now. Right now, I need to get my J-O-B done and concentrate on not going crazy in the process. On top of an extremely busy period at work, it's the end of the school year crunch time for Spencer (meaning for ME as well), and I'm leaving for a conference in Vegas next Tuesday. Good timing, Deltek.

My schedule coming up (not that you need to see this, but it keeps me sane to see it all written down):

Today: Meetings all afternoon, long walk to get Spencer after school, gardening at night, class project
Tomorrow: Meetings all morning, haircut at 2, long walk to get Spencer after school, class, class project
Friday: Walk Spencer to school, WOOOOHOOOOO - no meetings (as of now), gardening at night
Saturday: Morning gardening, 12 -? Mother's Day party @ Pete & Kathy's, 5 - 8 Ellen's graduation party, 9- ? RJ's birthday party
Sunday: Morning gardening, 1 - 4 Sierra's birthday party, race to finish class project, pack
Monday: 9 - 11 Dr Gallagher, meetings thru 5, finish packing, finish class project, get all of Spencer's ducks in a row for my absence
Tuesday: Meeting in the morning, hop the plane at 1:00, EAT IN VEGAS, party @ TAO
Wednesday - Friday: CLASS CLASS CLASS CLASS
Friday: Who knows, maybe we'll get married
Saturday: POOL ALL DAY, fly home
Sunday: Work @ Plant Sale 9 am - 6 pm
Monday: Back to work

Inspiration

Sometimes I just need some. Right now my soul is bleeding. More on that later.


Dear God,
May every aspect of my being be converted to Truth.
May every cell fall into placeand serve a higher plan.
I no longer wish to be who I was.
I wish to be more.
Amen
Marianne Williamson
From Illuminated Prayers


“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~Marianne Williamson


"It makes no sense to worry about things you have no control over because there's nothing you can do about them, and why worry about things you do control? The activity of worrying keeps you immobilized." ~Wayne Dyer

"A non-doer is very often a critic--that is, someone who sits back and watches doers, and then waxes philosophically about how the doers are doing. It's easy to be a critic, but being a doer requires effort, risk, and change. ~Wayne Dyer

WHERE'S MY MONEY?????????????

DAMMIT!

Well thank GOD

CLICK HERE

It would really have hurt in so many ways if it had been true. But, still, I'm sort of sad that it's not.

This is rich...

The best part is the third-to-last line. Trust me. I'm wondering what they did with all those "puppies".

Animals Sold Over Internet, Police Say

POSTED: 6:23 am MDT April 26, 2007
LONDON -- Thousands of Japanese residents have been 'fleeced' into buying neatly-groomed lambs they thought were poodles, The Metro newspaper of London reported Thursday.
The lambs were shipped from Great Britain and Australia to Japan by an Internet company advertising them as poodle puppies.
According to the newspaper, a Japanese actress suspected a scam after her "poodle" didn't bark and wouldn't eat dog food.
Maiko Kawakami showed photographs of her pet on a Japanese television talk show and found out it wasn't a dog -- but was in fact a lamb.
Authorities believe as many as 2,000 people have been conned.
'We launched an investigation after we were made aware that a company was selling sheep as poodles,' a police spokesman told The Sun newspaper.
One couple found out the truth only after a dog groomer told them she could not trim their poodle's claws because they were hooves.
The "poodles" sold for as much as $1,200, about half the price of poodle puppies in Japan.
The company, whose name translated as Poodles As Pets, has been shut down.

Here....

A photo (reproduced withOUT permission, mind you) of my friend Tara (on the right) and Webster. He was hanging out on the Rez or something. Maybe it was a benefit. Regardless, it's WEBSTER. And, as a bonus, if you look really closely you will notice that the chika on the left is showing an awful lot of boobage. Yowza.

Big Heavy {SIGH}

Winter storm warning remains in effect until 6 am mdt wednesday,
A winter storm warning remains in effect until 6 am mdt wednesday.
Heavy snow will develop in the mountains and foothills this morning and continue through Tuesday night. Total snow accumulations of 1 to 2 feet are expected by Wednesday morning.
Residents in the foothills should plan on heavy snowfall through tonight with travel becoming difficult especially in the higher foothills. Be prepared for possible power outages from downed tree limbs and power lines.

R.I.P., Peep

We took Peep to the vet this morning and had him put to sleep. Such nice words for what is essentially just killing them. Whatever. He was ready to go and went very peacefully and quickly after getting the shot. He didn't complain about anything, and the vet was very very nice. I guess it went as well as it could have gone, though of course I sobbed hysterically throughout. I will miss him an awful lot...he was my companion for my entire adult life!! What a personality he had, and what a brave guy to deal with his pain the way he did for the last several weeks. Not that you want to, but if you click on the picture of him by himself, you can see the lovely tumor he had on his side. YUCK. He doesn't look very well in these photos, but he still looks a lot better than he did for the past few days. He will be missed more than I can say.

Day Five

and I about to BREAK THIS BITCH. Moving for 18+ hours now, and when I say 'moving', I mean hauling somebody else's punk-ass shit down three flights of stairs and down the block and then up another flight of stairs, and this includes big boxes of books. I took a short respite for "sleep" last night -- mostly I just cried about the cat all night long and, when I did sleep, I dreamed about digging cat-sized holes in a mountainside. And aforementioned cat's death ceremony is scheduled for Monday at 9:00 am. I wouldn't be surprised if he dies before then. Selfishly, I kinda wish that would just die, because then I would feel so much better about it...playing God is not one of my fortes. As it stands right now, I took the whole day off because I know that afterward I will be inconsolably humming and rocking in the corner like a crazy person, or else I will slam my face into a brick wall instead. Either way, post-drama, it's not a professional look.

Anyhoo, I am going to happy hour this evening with a vengeance, and then I'm going home to take sleeping pills...it's not what you think, I'm talkin' Excedrin PM here...and sleep the peaceful sleep of someone with too much on her mind who has just mixed drugs and alcohol.
I'm almost salivating at the thought............droooooooooooooool.......

14 inches of thick white fun...

Expect pictures of storm #432 of the winter, the one that weill smush my pea plants and piss me off the most royally!

www.kmgh.com for the latest forecast....

Day Three

I have realized tin these past three days that I'm a huge alcoholic pussy. (Doesn't that bring a lovely visual to your mind??) Yesterday I was saying to myself (and anyone else who would listen): "Dang, my life is like the movie Airport...'dammit, I sure picked the wrong week to quit drinking!'"'

And it's true.

My department is moving to a new office on Friday, and my cat is dying. Not to mention that my house is a mess, I don't get enough exercise, and I allow my hatred of George Bush to destroy at least two minutes of my (very valuable) life every single day. Like throwing money down the toilet.

But the most important issues are the

Cat: diabetes, kidney issues, and arthritis, and he's 19 and he poops under the desk and can't pee and has to be given fluids so that he doesn't just wither away on the living room floor like a beeve in the desert sun. And, as is dictated by the evilness that just might possibly be George Bush, of course he's totally mentally perky and cute and loves us all with every creaky bone in his wasted body. I feel like someone is ripping my heart out every time I think of the decision I have to make. He is the only living creature that has managed to stay by my fickle asshole side for more than 17 years. This includes my parents and that pesky alien Kazoo.

and the

Move: what a logistical nightmare. Desks, chairs, movers, painters, boxes, tape, too much crap, NO BEER NO FUCKING BEER FUCK FUCK FUCK, and people who are unhappy with their new work spaces. Bah humbug. It's supposed to snow on Friday, because God hates me (no, wait...

...God LOVES me!! ANyhoo, snow and rain and probably the moving guys don't speak English, so how in the hell am I going to make them understand that they have to take stuff down the elevator, out the front door, load it in the truck, and then drive it around to the alley because they have to unload it all at our new building (which is next door) but they aren't allowed to use the front door of that building because the steps there are soapstone and they might get chipped?!??!?! Shit dag.

Snow forecast for this weekend.

Click on the picture. Man, I wish I would have thought of this when we had 4 feet in the front yard (for a frackin' MONTH)!

Today is the first day of the rest of my...

Will and I have decided to stop drinking (!) until Vegas. Hence, the countdown begins. May 15 is when I leave Denver. There is so much stress in my life right now that I can't believe I even agreed to this, but then again it's probably the best time to quit. Better for the mental health and all that shit. The thing is, my nightly wine is SUCH a ritual that it's scary to think of how I'm going to change it. Somehow, in the past few years, I have developed a habit wherein, once Spencer is in bed, I light a fire in the fireplace, light some incense, pour a big fat glass of wine, and have my nightly smoke while watching a TLC or Discovery Channel show that inevitably makes me cry. I guess that this habit first came into play when Spencer was a bit younger and I was a bit lonelier. Anyhoo, time to stop it. I often feel guilty about it, which doesn't contribute positively to my stress level in general. In a perfect world, I would take this opportunity to get in shape, start an exercise program, do more volunteer work, or whatever, but it's all I can do right now to quit smoking and drinking, and I think that's enough. It's going to suck a whole lot, which is how it is with most things that are good for you. Hopefully I don't end up pregnant...hey, I have to do SOMETHING to keep my mind busy!

More on the Gourd...

Randonly sent to me today...charming. And yee haw, that's the biggest one I've seen yet!!

Perhaps Sanjaya is available to model....

To see the greatest swimsuits in the history of mankind, start HERE and continue clicking NEXT in the lower right of the screen. The rewards multiply exponentially.