Goodbye May, Hello June

So, I was looking at recent posts and see that January was pretty tough... a few rounds of illnesses, dead car battery, misc frustrations, etc... and May has continued the 2016 trend of frustration. It's not life ending. It won't matter in 10 years. Life goes on, but I'm elbows deep in one thing after another, and could use a break.
It actually started April 18, when our old kitty, Sebastian, after 18 years of always being around, he is no longer here. A few short days later, the world lost Prince. Who wasn't like David Bowie to me, but still... Prince.
My car had the check engine light on, as well as a light to fix some burned out bulbs - the dealer had the car all day and forgot to check the bulbs and didn't have time to fix the other problem.
Look, it's a pain to take the car in. Husband has to take my car, drive it to the dealer, get the shuttle to work, get the shuttle back to the dealer. In the meantime, I have a car that cannot take 3 kids anywhere so I'm trapped at home.
We take it in a second time, and they finally remember to fix the burned out lightbulbs, but then the check engine light comes right back on the next day. The manifold something or other they just fixed, is still indicating it is broken. I have not yet scheduled the third return to the dealer.
The mower won't start. I took the battery and had it charged, but mowing uses up the battery - it doesn't recharge itself. Mower gets picked up tomorrow for repair.
My husband's horrid brother comes to town. He's gonna be with some girl he knew in high school. You know that person in your family nobody likes? The black sheep? The one who shouldn't be around children or pets? Yeah, this guy. So, he immediately gets in a fight with his dumb girlfriend and moves in with his parents instead. He is a dangerous person, he regularly makes threats to my family, I will not be around him, and damn well my kids won't be around him either.
SO, after watching our kids 2x a week since they were a few months old, my husband's parents decide they'll choose their shitty son over everyone else. Kids haven't been to their house since. Shitty useless brother has moved back in with his girl or something. More news has been discovered, and the kids won't be going back to Nana & Papas. After an extensive search, a new sitter has been hired, she started last week.  Daycare is hard. We can afford to pay for daycare, but I can't justify paying more money than I bring in in a day - otherwise, what's the point? Why beat my brains out at work, if there's no profit? I love my job, but I'm not doing it for nothing.
In the meantime I've had my mom helping out, and I'm so jealous of other people who have awesome parents that are thoughtful and independent and confident and mature and energetic. Other moms clean and cook. My mom looks at Facebook. Other moms take kids on long walks or to the pool or to the playground. Mine is afraid to take them outside. I get home and still have more cleaning to do and get asked what's for dinner. Yes, it's true that other moms smoke crack or won't watch their grandkids at all, but that isn't my story, ok? I should be grateful she's offering to help at all? It doesn't mean I don't get to be frustrated at the lack of forethought.
April 30 - I take the kids to get photos taken, and they all look good, but it is 24 hours before I'm to leave town for western Canada with Rocky Mountaineer. Claire throws up on the couch at 8:30 am. We get photos taken anyway. (Sorry!) They are cold and grumpy, but we get a few good ones somehow. Claire throws up two more times this day. I leave for a week, which is a bright spot in the month of May. My parents are here keeping children alive while I'm out of town. My keys disappear, as well as a couple of spoons and who knows what else. Well, kids are still alive so I've got that going for me which is nice.
Rocky Mountaineer does good work, but look, Kensington set the bar really high. People pay Kensington money for Rocky Mountaineer and it lacks the intimacy, magic, and special moments that good tour companies know are important. Our group leader was new, I didn't make any friends, or have any special experiences. Africa was filled with them. I know. Not every trip can be Africa - but I would have expected more of that special something from a company like Rocky Mountaineer. However, I still love Canada and the scenery was cool. Vancouver is fantastic. Lake Louise was stellar. It was a good trip.
Continuing on.... we had sprinklers installed. I find out after install, that in order to add a second meter (to not pay for sewer service) you must add plumbing between the sprinklers and the second meter. An added cost that was quoted to be as much as $650. Later I find out my neighbor friend got a quote from a different company including the necessary plumbing for the same price I paid - and his yard is bigger.
Sprinklers are stupid. The necessary plumbing is done, second pump comes Thursday. I hope all is well with that.
We ordered caterpillars online, and fed them. They soon turned to chrysalises and sat that way for several days. The butterflies began to emerge on Friday. This past weekend the weather turned beautiful. The pool opened and we spent several hours playing and enjoying the hot weather and sunshine. Monday afternoon it was time to set the butterflies free. One by one, they all flew to their freedom. All five caterpillars made it to chrysalides, and then to butterflies. I'd like to think it's a simple sign and positive change is coming.

Comic book crafty

So, I love Daredevil.*  I love it more than any show I've watched and I don't care. I'm a total Marvel nerd and I am continuing my obsession. This obsession will bring me to Motor City Comic Con this Friday and Saturday where a couple of Daredevil actors will be, along with lots and lots of sweaty smelly nerds. My people.
I've worked with mod podge before - when I bought an antique looking fabric map on Etsy and put it on the front of all the drawers on my dresser. It is one of my most beloved things I own, and if my house catches on fire I'll probably drag it out with me. Or maybe make a new one, you know, whatever.
So, I've had it on my mind to make comic book shoes, as I've had this crafty idea for a while. I also really want to make shoes out of a map too. But with Comic Con coming up and all... time to make things happen with this first. Besides, crafts make my brain happy and lately things have been piling up on the stress mountain.
I ordered a Daredevil comic book and a Punisher comic book on Ebay, and decided to make one shoe of each book.
BEHOLD!

Some of my supplies...

getting started on the Daredevil shoe

Kinda diggin the back

Still drying, but it doesn't look bad!

Yasss. I love his eye is the lace hole.  

A few days later... starting the Punisher shoe

Some good heel detail

I'm liking it. 

FIN.

So, I really hope they don't fall apart. If they make it through Detroit they'll be perfect for FanExpo Toronto in Sept. Matt Murdock will be there. Squee!


*(the Netflix series idiots - not that Ben Affleck steaming turd.)

Holiday beers

I have a 6 pack of Tusker beer in my basement fridge -ok now there's actually only 4, but still you get the idea. It was the beer of choice in Tanzania and Kenya, when we were out bopping across the Masai Mara and the Serengeti, or enjoying lunch, or dinner, or whenever... I got home and wanted some nostalgia beer and learned it could not even be obtained in the state of Michigan and was lucky enough that my brother and sister in law found some in NYC and brought it to me for xmas. I am thinking I'll spread them out maybe, save one for my birthday, do a search and see how far into Canada I need to drive to get one.
I get home from volleyball Tuesday night and grab a Red Stripe, and I realize... I pretty much always do this when I get home from a great trip. I got home from Alaska and all I wanted was beer from Alaska Brewing company. I went to Jamaica and drank a lot of Red Stripe when I came home. After London, I had Pimms and Strongbow, and after New Orleans I had to hunt down Abita Strawberry Beer. All four trips to Italy? Get me wine. Lots of wine. Italian wine. Traverse City? More wine, please. I'm a traveling booze-o-phile. Well, it's a good hobby to have!
Where am I going to go next, and what shall we be drinking?!

Secret Krampus

Around Christmastime I got a terrible idea. A terrible delicious idea, that could be a lot of fun. Secret Krampus. The idea is it's like Secret Santa, but with terrible gifts. (for instance, a bag of chewed pens...) I toyed around with the idea a bit, then created a Facebook group, invited some terrible friends and started Secret Krampus. The rules were simple. Mail your terrible gift by Jan 15 and post photos in the group. I sent my giftee a mason jar full of vinegar and sticks, and several plastic bags with one item in them, like a broken crayon, an empty sample size tube of toothpaste, an old sock, etc... and at the very bottom of the bag was a lovely box of chocolates - with one bite taken out of every single one. Hahhaaa.

Husband sent his gift - a DVD of a bad movie, all scratched to oblivion, filled with glitter, wrapped in plastic wrap and then wrapped up with diapers that had been rubbed in the dirt and drawn on with markers. 

I got my gift today. A large box, probably 8 inches tall by 14 inches wide by 22 inches long. Filled with about 3,000 puzzle pieces. To more than one puzzle. With no box or photo. I am pleased. 

Well done! I think Krampus 2.0 for next year shall be quite competitive.

This is ground control to major tom

Well, 2016 has started out kind of rough. What are we, day 12? and yipe - take me back to last year. Hell, while I'm wishing take me back to November 1, 2015. Hehe... That would be ok. ***Homer whisper "THAT'S THE DAY I WENT TO AFRICA***
Friday night at bedtime, Claire is whining that her tummy hurts (like often she does) and I give her a bucket and tell her if she's gotta throw up, put her face in the bucket... low and behold like 20 minutes later, she throws up. This champ gets it in the bucket! Awesome deal for a 5 year old. First time I haven't had to change all the sheets, you know? Barf is nasty.
She's not done. She upchucks 4 or 5 more times before giving it up for the night. Fast forward to Sunday night, approximately 12:30 a.m. and I go upstairs and check on the twins before bed and Zoey is sitting up in the corner of her bed, silent. It was unsettling and creepy and then I realized she had vomited all over her hands, pajamas and center of her bed. Oh boy. I clean her and her bed up and put her back to bed, and then I go to bed... and she's at it again. I change and clean her and her bed again, and then decide to rock with her in the rocking chair and wait for the next round with my bucket. She goes four more rounds. Some is on her, some on me, some in the bucket. Eventually I'm rocking two clean babies because there's only so much activity before A wakes up. At 3:05 a.m. my phone alerts me that David Bowie has died. Nooooooo. No no no. As someone else said, it never occurred to me that David Bowie *could* die. I wasn't a "super fan" and didn't own his albums but David Bowie is the closest thing to religion that I have. He is the way and the light! He is in everyone and everything. He is the stars. Man, what an unpleasant surprise.
Z seems to be settled, I put her to bed and pass out myself.
Not much happened Monday... I was supposed to go get a free hot stone massage and instead I stumbled around my house on 3 hours of sleep trying to adult. It rained, then got really cold and then snowed, so it was all snow on top of ice. Lovely.
TODAY... super genius. I leave work to head home and realize I've left my headlights on all day and my battery is dead.  OF COURSE I did this on the bone chillingest day of the year. OF COURSE I've never done that before. Luckily, I work in Plymouth and have a lot of friends there and within 30 minutes I had 3 people ready to rescue me (Love to you Brad, Al and Eric!) and lo and behold, roadside assistance got there first.
So... Day 8, 10, 11 and 12 are kind of a bust, and there were probably more but I don't remember anymore. Sheesh. Get your shit together, January.

Edit 1: On Wednesday I accidentally backed into my garage door. From the inside. While it was closed, of course. Don't tell Damon.

Edit 2: Alan Rickman passed away on Thursday. That's just cruel.

Edit 3: Alice succumbed to the stomach flu later Thursday.

Vanilla and sweet orange

I'm gonna go on a rant here and sound a bit whiny, but I'm tired. It it doesn't matter anyway I'm pretty sure nobody is actually reading this. I'm tired that my family doesn't try. With the exception of my brother and his wife, Christmas was fucking annoying. First world problems.
Brother Joe sent out a lovely email including a Christmas list and asked others to do the same.
His list included Old Navy and Amazon Gift Cards, Dark Chocolate, Starbucks VIA Instant Sweetened Iced Coffee. I bought all of those things.
My sister in law's list (Lindsey) included Whole Bean coffee, Gift cards for Amazon and Starbucks, Instant coffee like Via Dark Roast. I bought all of those things. My mom, dad, and stupid sister could not be bothered to make a list.
First, my mom can't Internet because she doesn't try. She instead drove all around the place looking for a thing on my list and texting me all the while that she couldn't find it. Could you at least PLEASE pretend my gift will be a surprise and stop giving me the difficult play by play? How about making a phone call to these places instead of driving? How about asking someone to help you Internet? Stop thinking of yourself and realize how rude you are being.

My list:
Gift Cards (Old Navy, Zappos, REI, Alloy Apparel, Lands End)
Hugo Naturals Vanilla and Sweet Orange Lotion
Milk Chocolate covered almonds
Dark Roast K cups
Big Red cinnamon gum
Tusker Beer
Cards Against Humanity expansion pack 5, 6

What I got:
$40 cash and a bunch of texts telling me how hard it was to find a gift
Old Navy Gift card (win)
Target Gift Cards (that wasn't on the list...)
Dark Chocolate Covered Almonds (not milk... ok)
A package of Meijer brand trouser socks or something (No. Just, No.)
A box of swiffers
Garbage disposal cleaner
Kitchen sponges
A Hello Kitty Beach towel (WTF?)
Shampoo and conditioner (ok, fine)
More shampoo and conditioner, travel size


The winning items all from Joe and Lindsey:
K Cups, french roast (would have liked darker roast, but oh well)
Tusker Beer (Ok, I admit - BIG HUGE WIN for Brother and SIL)

I complain because there was a list. If you have a list, why do you completely ignore what is on it and buy whatever you want anyway? I shouldn't even waste my time and energy and thought into helping you know me, because you don't care. And the reason I don't want $40 cash is because I won't buy these things for myself. I'll use $40 cash to pay for babysitters or buy lunch when I'm at work. I didn't ask for Target gift cards because I won't buy things for myself at Target, I will buy diapers. I wanted to receive things I won't do for myself. That is part of the fun of Christmas and you ruined my hope.

We go over to my parents house and start trying to visit but there's little glass Christmas knick knacks all over the place. Random junk in every nook and cranny of the living room. A nativity thing on a table in the living room, more Christmas junk on a table in the kitchen. All within easy reach of the two year old twins I have with me. Their house is small to begin with and crowded with miscellaneous items just makes it claustrophobic. I don't get to sit and rest and relax, with a non-baby proofed home. I have to watch their every move. It's exhausting.
My mom immediately pulls me aside to show me some tricycle she found at a yard sale that fits Alice pretty well, so of course now both twins want to fight over and ride the small tricycle. Indoors. In the already crowded knick knack house. Grr.
Take it away. Hide it.
Then the toddlers want to eat, but they want to eat and roam. There is one booster seat so it's pretty difficult to feed two squirming mobile toddlers. The five year old wants crackers, the five year old wants cookies, the two year old grabs the pie she can reach, the other two year old grabs the package of brownies she can reach. Stress. Levels. Rising.
My dad goes to pick up my stupid sister and her ratty children and returns without them. They weren't ready to leave and he is tired of her shit, so he left and came back. My mom defends her, as she always has and always will.
We open presents and I get my weird collection of "gifts." They do pretty well with kids toys, although I specifically said no more coloring books and got some anyway. They have a long history of buying things I specifically told them not to buy and it pisses me off to no end. They don't do it to be assholes, they just don't care?  They don't think about me? They don't think at all? I don't know.
Paper and gift shrapnel is all strewn about and my moms gifts are half opened and she just leaves everything piled around her chair precariously and decides to leave to pick up my stupid sister.
I gather up all her crap and move it out of the four grabbing hands of the toddlers and try to clean up the pine needles all over the floor.
They return. Her homeless looking brood open their gifts and don't seem to care who they are from and don't thank anyone. We go downstairs to see my dad's Christmas train he is proud of and the kids want to play in the "playroom." Next to the doorway is a pile of crap on a bookshelf including plastic bags, a coaxial cable, a screwdriver, a scrabble letter tile holder, a pair of pliers, many many papers, paperback books, random junk, 7 easter baskets, pieces of picture frames, etc etc. I start bagging up the garbage and handing things to my mom and then just go in and do a quick clean up of the room. I mean, what is all this shit? She says, "you don't come over very often."
Are you surprised? This house is a pain in the ass to be in. There's no room to move or play. We bag up about 3 bags of garbage from just this tiny little room. I'm tired and stressed and hungry.
I start reaching for a soap opera digest to throw it away and my sister starts reaching for it too, I win and throw it out and she says, "I'm just gonna go" in her baby tantrum pouty voice. Yes, hoarder - just go away.
We finish in the playroom and go back upstairs, feed the littles and start packing up to leave. There's no dinner in sight and I need to eat. All the stuff now is in the car, the kids are half dressed to go out in the cold and then my mom wants to get a picture of all the grand kids just like her mother in law used to do. Could you ever fucking try to do this at some other point in the day? Why do you always think of this while we are half out the door? That drives me nuts. Are you trying to annoy me?
Then we are saying goodbyes and my stupid sister tries to hug me and I give her my shoulder. I. DON'T. LIKE. YOU. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to be your sister. Why, on the one time a year you see me, do you try to hug me like if I let you do it you're going to win some kind of fucking prize? Then you and mom smirk at each other. Ha, ha, almost got her this time, look mom, she still won't hug me. I hate you. STOP FUCKING TOUCHING ME.
If you don't know why I can't stand her, the list of items is 37 years long.
On the bright side, I do have a brand new Hello Kitty beach towel for sale.

Sunshine and Daredevil

So, I haven't seen the sun in about 14 days and even then it was briefly and had been gone for about 14 days before that. I'm wilting. I dusted off my magic "sun lamp" and have been using that every morning and it helps. My thoughts were consumed with my Africa trip and struggling with the life I am living right now. (Ie. responsible for three screaming child terrorists 50+ hours a week...) Whatever.
Anyway, then I heard about this Daredevil show on Netflix. I'd heard of it before but didn't think much of it, and we started watching it. We watched three hours the first night. We watched three hours the second night. Then I think we tried to stretch it out a little, maybe two and two .. anyway - we binge watched the crap out of it. It. Is. Amazing. I replace who ever may have been in the top spot for my favorite show ever. It's ridiculous, in a way, that now my thoughts are of a tv show but I go through phases where I'm stuck in my head - winter, hormones, who knows why and if I'm going to spend a few months stuck in my head it might as well be looking at Matt Murdock. Besides, it's a good fucking show. What am I supposed to do now, just go back to regular tv? Please. It's been a month and I've watched Daredevil three times. I need an intervention, and then I need some sunshine.

I actually got a request the other day at work to send someone to Africa and was all excited about that. Aaaaand turns out she only needs flights. Boo. Maybe January will be busier. I wish the world wasn't so big so you could see the people you like more often. But the world wouldn't be as fascinating if it was small, would it? Would we even know? Someone give me a good reason to go to Toronto or San Diego. I miss my new friends.

Africa and Oceans 11

Think of your favorite movie, lets say for this exercise it is Oceans 11. You watch this movie for the first time, and after it's over for one reason or another, or many, this is now your favorite movie. You've seen lots of movies and enjoyed many of them, but this one, this is your film - the perfect fit for you, the one you'd hoped for and exceeded all expectations. Now, after watching it one time and loving it so completely - you're never allowed to watch that movie again. Sure, you could watch Oceans 12 or 13, but you know that's never going to fill the void that Ocean's 11 would have filled.

That's my best analogy for Africa. The one I'd hoped for. I got lucky and it came my way. I'd had quite a travel drought thanks to the littles, and it was everything I'd imagined it would be, but more. For me, it was as good as it gets. 

I was feeling all of the feels the week I got home. Was it the people I was with? Yes, very much so. Was it the places I stayed? Yes, absolutely. Was it the things I saw? Yes, definitely. Was it the beautiful weather during the day and strange but wonderful rainstorms at night? Yes. The food? Of course. I can't believe just how much I want to repeat it all. I've never experienced this so strongly before. 

It was everything. I made an effort to be present in every moment, to soak in everything, to be able to remember as much as possible. I have been stuck in Africa in my head since I got home, going over snippets of as many moments as I can. Some stories I have shared, some I will keep just for myself, my moments in time. 

I thought going on this trip would be my break from my home life that would make day to day tasks easier when I got home. I'd be refreshed. I'd be renewed. It had the opposite effect. I'm heartbroken. I resent my obligations. Has husband noticed I'm not here mentally? Of course he has. He always does. He's my person. He knows me.
But, I miss the freedom I had when I was in my 20s and it was just us and I could travel (and did) as much as my little heart desired. I could take a shower in silence, I could go for a walk anytime I wanted, I could have a complete thought. A hot meal. I was free. I don't feel free. I don't feel refreshed. I don't feel renewed. I feel reminded of the world I had that is currently gone. 

Obligatory note that I love my kids. Blah blah blah. Right now is harder than I expected. My experience is not average. Most people don't have twins. I am currently spending the majority of my free time with two toddlers and a five year old. I had a full life pre-kids. I didn't choose to have them until I was 32, I had a good 14+ years of busy independent adult life. I am not one of those people who dreamed their whole lives of someday being a mommy. It's part of my life, not my everything.

With each day home it gets a little easier, I am getting back into the swing of things. I'm a little less of a space cadet. I don't think it will be as hard next time I travel, because I won't be returning from the trip that was #1 on my bucket list. The next trip will likely be something run of the mill... Ireland, Scotland... who knows what will come my way. 

It all ended so abruptly. I don't know if I was tired or not paying attention, or if I just really had to pee (thanks, beer...) but there we were going about the day, going on a ridiculous drive to the airport and all of a sudden it was time to literally run to the gate. It was over. There was no time. There's never enough time. 

I'm still here

My free time is few and far between. That's not entirely correct.. my free time comes in minutes at a time. A few minutes to shower. A few minutes to wipe the cat hair off the kitchen floor again so that the babies don't have furry hands the next time they crawl across it. A few minutes to make sure the four year old has eaten, again. A few minutes to throw in the next load of laundry, eat something, put something away, go for a walk, pay a bill, and the other 97,000 things I'm responsible for in a day.

I have twins. For some freak of nature reason, my body threw an egg that hilariously and entirely split into two people. One of them who is quiet, and has a lopsided crawl and is happy all the time and is sweet. One of them is a firecracker, who is always in a hurry and can climb like a motherfucker, and is also happy all the time. They tag team. One pulls it down, the other gets into it. They are hilarious and adorable. Next comes the PSA for those of you without twins.

1. For the love of all that is holy, stop fucking telling me "YOU'VE GOT YOUR HANDS FULL!" Ha ha, yes. Yes I do! I had no idea! I'm at the grocery store, or the pediatrician, and I'm struggling to carry an infant car seat in each hand toting a 16 pound baby in each. I have a four year old tagging along, most likely asking me for shit. I'm probably trying to open a door, while you stand there with your gaping maw, telling me how hard it looks without actually offering to help open the fucking door. Fuck you.

2. I have a thought to make a business card to hand out for the next several questions that follow. Are they both girls? Are they identical? How old are they? Do twins run in your family? My cousin friend aunt mom is a twin. A brave few even have asked about my breeding capabilities. I'm fabulously fertile, thanks for asking. Which brand of tampon is your favorite? Oh? That's a weird personal question? Hm...

Things have changed. We had a house built. It's wonderful. From the age of 16 to 36, I never went more than 365 days without getting on an airplane. I haven't flown since June 2013. A flight is coming though. Soon. Tropical drinks, warm breezes, soft sand, palm trees. Fuck yes.

Is it spring yet?

So, we are probably getting a new hot water heater today. This one seems to be leaking water from a rusty connection on the top. So that's awesome.

We are having a house built - about 10 minutes from here with bedrooms and stairs and garage doors and all sorts of sweet new things. The digging of our basement is on hold because of some "frost law." So that's awesome.

I'm working at a travel agency and I get to field all kinds of requests for people that want to go somewhere warm. They have no dates, no idea where they want to go and no budget. So, that's awesome.

So, I recently went to get gas - and being winter - I thought nothing of walking through a puddle, until I noticed when I got back in the car it stank of gasoline like you would not believe. My newest pair of pants is still in a bucket of water in the laundry room. My shoes are on the front porch. So, that's awesome.

There's ice on the ground. My pants fit too tight. I'm tired. I'm soooo over this winter. I want to play in the pool. I want to feel the sun. I want to mow the lawn. I want to move into my house and organize all the things that just seem to be in the way in this little place.

SPRING, WHERE ARE YOU!?

the past

The skilled writer in me desperately wants to edit this thing I wrote for my college newspaper nearly 15 years ago. The smart part of my brain knows to leave it alone to see how far I've come. I do like parts of it. The parts about my friend were pretty accurate. So, dredging up from the past....

Originally published for the Eastern Echo:

Suicide is a strange thing. I don't understand the decision to be done with life. It seems like there's always just one more thing I want to do or one more thing I have to see.

I want people to know what it's like from a friend's point of view after a suicide. I just want people to stop and think first, about themselves and about others, and see if suicide is really the only answer - because it probably isn't.

My friend Erik Widmark committed suicide about a year ago. It was rumored that he shot himself in the head with a shotgun in the parking lot of the Ferndale police department. No one really tried to find out if it was true or not.

I met Erik wile working at Marco's Pizza on the North Side of Ann Arbor. He was a little bit creepy, a little strange, entirely nice and pretty darn funny. On many occasions, he, my friend Alex and I would sit around Marco's and make fun of our customers and drink until the wee hours of the morning. Erik would bring in some raspberry wine that he was so skilled at making, or honey mead or this gross fish-goo-in-a-tube that he would try to get people to eat.

We always had a good time. We didn't really see his suicide coming - I guess.

I remember Erik said once that he didn't want to live to be 30. I just brushed the comment off and forgot about it. Erik would have been 30 Aug. 31.

For a year, Erik and I worked about 30 hours a week together, laughing and joking. Sunday nights were always the best because Erik and I would always close and it was always slow so we could listen to Big Sonic Heaven on 96.3. It became a tradition, really. Every Sunday night was Big Sonic Heaven night.

Sure, Erik was a friend, a co-worker and we hung out at my house once or twice. Even so, I suppose I didn't know him all that well. He was quiet about who he was. He pretty much kept to himself.

Alex and I found out later that he had a pretty rough past.

The night before he killed himself, Eric called Marco's pizza and talked to Alex for a long time. He wanted Alex to tell me goodbye and tell me that I had always been a food friend. He asked Alex to give messages to other people and to deposit his last paycheck. Alex tried to convince Erik that he would give those people the messages himself. Erik said that he was done, and that it was time to go and that if he didn't show up to work on Sunday by 6pm then he was gone.

Erik never showed up to work the next day.

Alex and I heard the news Monday morning from his distraught roommate. A memorial was to be held the next Saturday to remember his life, not his death.

After Erik was gone, Marco's just wasn't the same anymore. Alex and I both found new jobs and haven't had the privilege of knowing anyone else as quirky as Erik.

We both still talk about him from time to time. It was a confusing, sad end to a good person. All his friends will continue to miss him.

Seething

My mother's mother died last week. She was 86 years old and was born deep in the hills of Tennessee and died there too. She lived in Michigan while her husband worked, and she raised five kids. I would visit my grandparents when I was little and then in high school, and as an adult. I never met the grandfather that drank and beat his children. He went away once my grandfather retired and moved back to Falls Branch. I knew the grandfather that had a great laugh and always had his dog by his side and cowboy boots on his feet. My grandmother was the "disciplinarian" if you will. I did know her.

I didn't cry for her at her funeral. I don't miss her. I thought about it the entire trip down there and I couldn't think of one nice thing she said or did for me. I do remember her yelling at me to play outside, turn off the lights, get out of the kitchen, stop taking pictures, etc. She said these things to me when I was nine years old and she said these same things to me when I was 31. She would tell you to go outside and get her a switch - a small branch from a bush - so she could whip welts into the soft flesh of your legs. I remember she grew raspberries and I liked eating them. That's all I got.

I arrive in Tennessee on a Sunday. I find out pretty quickly that things are a mess. My grandmother was left a good sum of money which she wasted in the 6 years since my grandfather died. Her youngest daughter helped take care of her, and signed many of the checks that sent unreasonable sums of money out the door. A great deal of it went to one of her sons, the favorite grandchild - GOLDEN BOY. By her death she was broke. Most of her children are in no better financial shape than her. You know who paid for the funeral? My 30-year-old brother. If that isn't a big ridiculous flying pile of shit, then I don't know what is. If it hadn't been him it would have been me - the next to arrive with a credit card. She has 14 grandchildren and I paid for the flowers from all of them, including the unemployed, and GOLDEN BOY himself who got thousands from her, but flat out refused to pay his $20 share of the flowers that rested upon her casket. In addition to that he once denied to me that he ever took money from her. "I got my own money." I heard you ask her for money. I was in the house. We have all now seen the copies of the checks you cashed, you leech. We know the truth.

 Yes, she had the right to spend her money as she wished, but those taking advantage of her should have at least left enough to pay for her death. She could have helped others that would have appreciated it. Her other children, her other grandchildren. What remains is a house and 62 acres of land. The five children are to split 50 acres, and the remainder is to be sold along with the house, the profits split five ways. I initially wanted my mom to keep her 10 acres, and be able to revisit this place that was kind of magical to me as a kid, to bring my daughter. Now I think they should sell it all. I don't wish to return. I'd rather put all this simmering seething anger behind me, about how it all ended. All is not lost, but it should be. I will tell my daughter stories, she can build her own special memories.

There's a few other tidbits that added to the smoldering coals, like my grandmothers ring being given to my brother for his fiancee, and later someone insinuating that he shouldn't be paid back for the funeral because, "Well, he got that ring." He never asked for that ring. And my terrible mother of a sister both ignoring or being mean to her two-year-old and acting like a child herself when forced to actually feed or watch her kid. Cleaning the clutter of the house that belonged to a hoarder only to be told someone will have to sort through the garbage we bagged because, "just because I think it's trash doesn't mean someone else will." I'm sorry. I thought yesterday you were wailing about not knowing what to do about all the clutter. Good luck to you all in finalizing everything that needs to be done. I'll be trying really fucking hard to bite my tongue and look past this and forget the fact that my grandmother picked favorites and I was at the bottom of the list. The clear realization of this is still quite raw.

Actual email I just sent via Zappos.com web form

Hi.
I'm a tall person. You ask me to get shit off the high shelves for you at the grocery store. You think it's AMAZING and MAGICAL to be tall. I'm a girl. You don't sell shoes for me at the store. You don't sell pants for me at the store. Or long-sleeve shirts. Or sweaters. Or coats. I am forced to go online to find clothing that fits my long limbs. I'm not a freak of nature. I'm 6'2 and have a 36-37" inseam. On Zappos (this is where you come in) you can search for pants by inseam. See, this is handy because NOT ALL LENGTHS FIT EVERYONE. However on Zappos, (you!) when you select inseam of 36, 37, you *also* get the inseam of every single pant that just says "one size" when you click on the link, yet in the description below it clearly states an inseam, of usually 30, 32 or 34. Could you PLEASE fix this so that the search for a 36 or 37 inseam actually gives those results? I have one pair of pajama pants that fit wonderfully, however sadly they are old and falling apart and I can't find new pajama pants (and one bad-ass pair of jeans would be nice) in the correct length, and really don't have time to wade through 100+ pairs of pants for SHORT PEOPLE WHO CAN BUY THEIR DAMN PANTS AT THE DAMN STORE.
Thank you very much.

Well, shit

Haven't posted since September? Damn.
I know what I've been doing.
1. I orchestrated the finishing of our kitchen demolition and rehabilitation. Moved home Sept 16, and handled issues well... until now, even. Our blinds are still fucking broken.
2. Played a shit-ton of patty-cake and peekaboo. Fed the kid, napped the kid, washed the kid, changed the kid, played with the kid, picked up after the kid, changed the kid's clothes, took the kid to fun things, bought the kid food, chased the kid around the house, outside the house, etc. Many, many hours are occupied with the kid.
3. Did fun things for myself so my brain does not rot. IE: Trivia.
4. Did stupid shit you have to do, laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, bills, sleeping, cleaning, lawn mowing, leaf raking, and other random bullshit that comes up when you have a life.
5. Getting sick. Over and over and over. At least once in Sept, and Oct, and Nov - Dec (for like two weeks) and again New Year's Eve. I don't know why I keep getting sick or why each time is worse than the last but I'VE HAD A FUCKING E-FUCKING NOUGH OF IT. THANKS.
6. Fuck, I don't know. I got a car, a haircut, went to Chicago for our anniversary, spent too much time on the Internet, worked a few hours, looked for jobs, had a promising interview, got the shaft, watched the entire seasons of Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, Storage Wars and Pawn Stars. And Mad Men (for the second time.) I said I was sick. I can't read when I'm sick. I can only sleep, whine, eat, and watch TV.
7. Eat. Goddammit I keep trying to eat healthy and then I get another cold and I just want to feed it nachos. This is not working.

2012 isn't starting out so great.

The Road to Hell is Paved with Adverbs

Fuck you, Stephen King.
Go ahead, pretend you don't write piles and piles of shit. You do. You know it. And when you're afraid you're going to write a pile of shit, you don't even use your REAL NAME! You use a pseudonym.
FRAUD.

An adverb is simply something that describes a verb. I yelled angrily, then crept stealthily before I ran quickly to the store! It was a grimly scene.
REDUNDANT.

"(It's like explaining a joke — if you need to tell us something happened in a grimly or someone spoke grimly, then it's not really that grim.)" - Charlie Jane Anders, Io9.com

But you know what, adverbs, like everything in life, are perfectly fine in moderation. Thank you.

Employed!

So, it's a start. We are moving forward. I'm writing content for a website in San Diego. If all goes well, I will get more hours. I will get paid for it even!
The key to being a good writer, writers say, is to write. That's it. You just have to do it a lot. If you want to be good at something it takes practice.
My job will be to write, and I can feel the words swirling around in my head but I can't always seem to fetch the right ones.
I'm tired.
So, I will practice.
I must practice.
I've had one big asshole of a month. We finished July with little Claire's first birthday party, and mere days later jetted off to Los Angeles for a wedding. I don't recommend taking a baby to a wedding. It was great visiting husband's family in the L.A. area - it was worth it to bring her for this.
However, we went to the San Bernadino mountains for the wedding, up, up the windy roads to a cabin in the woods. There weren't really accommodations for the kids, so you had to hold them or put them in a stroller, which to a squirming bored kid, this isn't great. We drove an hour down the windy mountain road for the ceremony... sat in a back room with Claire because there wasn't friendly people offering room in the rear pews of the church... then drove up the mountain an hour for the reception. No where to sit Claire, so she's strapped in a stroller between tables. And she's bored. And angry. But we can't let her wander around - the whole outdoor rustic place is filled with 3-foot drop-offs. I end up going to my room before 8pm to put Claire to bed and sat in my room all night with my Kindle. Had our cabin been near the reception (as other rooms were) I could have stayed, but nay, we were on the opposite side of the grounds.
To recap; we traveled across the country and halfway across southern California to go to a wedding I did not see, and attend a reception that I really wasn't at.
Again. Don't recommend bringing babies.
However, the days afterward where we went to the beach, the aquarium, the wading pool and spent time with family was THE BEST. I'm thankful for that.
We return home to a wet carpet and sticky kitchen. The water line to our fridge had been kinked by the people who put in our floors (and moved the fridge) and it broke, and water sprayed onto the wall, the cabinet next to it, and seeped under my brand-new floors all the way across the entire kitchen, and into the living room - under the couch, under the table.
You really never saw any water - but it was under everything.
We stayed at the in-laws for two days and then moved on to a hotel.
Then there were phone calls and destruction and fans and 112 degree temperatures baking my house and murdering my plants.
Then more phone calls and more phone calls...
Yesterday the rebuild began.
Is this fucking month over yet?

Apple is fucking with me

Dear Melissa,

Welcome to Apple iTunes Store Customer Support!

Hello, Its Manish again, Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad to hear that your issue has been resolved. It is because of the customers like you we are able to make our services best in the world.

"Your satisfaction is a great compliment for us."

Melissa, Apple and I are currently striving for the best experience possible in making sure our customers have been taken care of their satisfaction. You can submit your feedback for the services provided by me in the link (survey sheet) you may receive from Apple, with in six days from today.

Melissa, if you need anything else please feel free to reply back. We are always just an email away. Here in Apple we care.

Apple wants your iTunes Store experience as smooth as possible.

at Apple, We care! Have a great day!

Sincerely,

 Manish
iTunes Store Customer Support

............................................

Apple is fucking with me.

Did you see it?
"Your satisfaction is a great compliment for us."
That sounds sarcastic to me. You put something in quotes and all I hear is sarcasm.
"We sit around all day just waiting to help people like you!"
Really!

Either that or he's got a random compliment generator, and just clicks a button, copies and pastes.
"We are happy to serve you."
"Here at apple our mission is your happiness."

Still sounds sarcastic to me.

Chicken

I don't like chicken. I haven't in a long time. It got worse when I was pregnant. I could not stand to touch it or smell it, let alone eat it. So, yesterday or so I'm eating chicken and... epiphany! I am not going to make myself eat it anymore. I never order it when I go out to eat, but I buy it, prepare it and cook it and make myself eat it because it is "good for me." It's protein. It's low fat. It's healthy calories. But it is gross. The texture is all wrong, every time I bite it I can only imagine chewing on a live chicken. It was making me nauseous. So, I'm not going to do it anymore.
I'm starting to see a problem trend with food here though. We've been eating the same healthy foods for years and are now bored, but I don't know what to replace them with because I'm kind of picky. I don't like cauliflower. I hate celery. I'm bored of broccoli. I like green beans, but husband does not. I like fresh spinach, he prefers canned. We both hate brussel sprouts. Zucchini and squash are fine but anytime you go to a cheap banquet, what do you get? Chicken and zucchini and squash. Cheap punishment food.
Potatoes are loaded with carbs. I hate red peppers, and green and yellow too. I hate onions. (Unless well cooked and tiny).
What else? I don't like cucumber. I'm bored of asparagus. I like salad, but can't eat it when it's cold. I want warm things. I love mushrooms. Pasta has too many carbs for the husband.
I'm going to have to start cooking two separate dinners each night. Our bodies and tastes are so different. I need carbs. He needs protein. Oh, and I also hate all fish of every type, sort and variety. If it swims, I won't eat it. I'm a cheeseburger-eating vegetarian. And filet mignon. And bacon. And turkey, I like turkey.

Where is my magic pill that I can just take and get all the necessary nutrients and not be hungry? How about photosynthesis?

Sounds gross to me

I'm not really interested in a cold and flu kite. Sounds lame. What's next? A vomit kite?

Hi

Oh my. A six month silence. My deep apologies. December was mostly sleeping, the pregnancy bit you see. January was ? February, March, April, May... and now June.
We are taking classes and my belly is growing and my house is filling with baby things. This all comes along so fast you see? High school, well that takes four years.
College? Five.
Engagement? Two.
Baby? 9 months.
WHAT? The biggest change you can make to your life can happen in just 9 months? Whose idea was this?

See, we just decided to stop "not" trying... and whabam! Baby. Happy birthday husband, you're gonna be a daddy.
Right now at 33 weeks I simultaneously have something poking at my lower left side and into my right ribs. It's uncomfortable and weird. Mommy people call it amazing and for me it's just been ... weird. I have an octopus in my belly. Put your hand on your cheek and press your tongue into your cheek and move it around. That's what my belly feels like all day long.
And the worst? I have no short term memory. I don't know what I ate for lunch today. The past few months? BLUR. I should have been writing things down but that's the reason for the lapse. I get on here and ... no thoughts... no memories... just a blank.

And it's all boring. I sit at home and try to work, but there isn't much to do. I grew out of all my clothes and made my own pants. If you're checking in on Facebook you get daily quips instead of weekly columns.

My dearest kitty scared me with getting a little skin cancer this past Thanksgiving but maybe is in the clear now? I would be a basket case without kitty. Beware the day.

So you know, things are good. Weather is warm, finally. I'm happy. Seven weeks until my life changes forever, right?