letter to one landlord in particular

So you've decided to move someone else into our house and give us not enough notice and not even written. fine, i'll find somewhere else to move in a place where their seems to be no good rentals in our price range. I'll stress about it for over a month, packing on my weekends and obsessively checking the listings hoping that maybe this time their will be that perfect place. When it comes down too it, i'll settle for a place out of our price range in an area that i don't really want to live who's owners standard for "clean and ready to move into" are quite a bit lower than mine. When miracle of miracles they have another place that is really nice and in the country and i get actually a little excited about moving i'll start packing the essentials and nervously wait for these people who are obviously not good landlords to finally answer their phones to give us the key. I'll rent a uhaul, buy uhaul boxes, and pack up half my house including my entire kitchen food and all and load it into said uhaul ready to move to the new (dirty and out of our price range, but nice) house.

so, really? really you wait until half of my house is in a uhaul in the parking lot to call and say "oh by the way that deal fell through and you can stay if you want"? can i just tell you how much i hate you right now. You say you "realized your mistake but just didn't think to tell us because you were so busy", well that is b.s., and if it wasn't for the fact that i needed that money that we would be spending on this house to get myself out of this town i would not even give it half a thought and i'd be cleaning that dirty house right now to move into. Congratulations you are officially my least favorite person, and if i kept a list of people to get revenge on sometime in my life, you would be moving straight to the top.

P.S. i've had a cat inside for about two months now and as well behaved as he is i hope when i finally do move out you find "little presents" from him all over the place down stairs in corners that i have no intention of cleaning.

L.

house hunting (a letter to landlords)

Dear Landlords,

Why do you go through all the trouble of fencing in your "huge", and "beautiful" backyards if you don't allow pets in to enjoy them. I mean, what exactly are you trying to keep in if not a future renters dog? Do you think that maybe the renters will start running willy nilly through the neighborhood crapping in other people's yards and digging up other peoples prized flower beds? Are you afraid that the renters will go insane once forced to live in yet another overpriced house they don't own and might just start chasing cars and unfortunate mailmen who happen to get too close to their unfenced yard? I don't quite understand your reasoning here since if they had gone that crazy, you would most likely have more to worry about inside your property than outside. Maybe you think that if you don't provide them with a barrier they might start wandering aimlessly through the neighborhood, looking in windows and begging at back doors. The rent you seem to expect for your tiny house actually makes this the most likely reasoning...you are aware of the pay rates of the area you live in right?

Some of you have houses out in the country, in the middle of nowhere to be exact, and still refuse to allow pets. Let me be the first to be honest with you about your rental house. Its ancient. Its in the middle of a field. Its probably been owned by ten other people who allowed pets before you got it and put your precious (cheapest carpet available) in and refused any more pets to set a paw inside and then outside too just to be sure. You charge way more than the overpriced places in town because places in the country are hard to find, but people who live in the country want to have pets. People with pets are willing to pay a pet deposit to take care of your cheap carpet when they leave if anything happens to it and since their are no neighbors, and most likely you have a fenced yard (see above) there isn't much outside they could get into.

Now dear landlords, look around your own house. Do you have a fence? With pets in them? Do you think its impossible for anyone else to have a pet such as your own that will live happily inside that fence without causing so much damage that no one would ever want to live their again? i don't think so. maybe you should meet the pets before assuming they are terrors that can only cause utter destruction...too much to ask? fine charge a pet fee, thats what people do when they allow pets and guess what they still have a house and a yard afterwards along with however much they ask for to repair any damage the pet might do...so unless the pet has thumbs and can start a fire...i think your good.

-sincerely

the girl that is sick of seeing your stupid ads and doesn't want to rent from a control freak like you anyway.

L.

napoleons suicides

once apon a time there was a suicidal dog named napoleon. napoleon was a bassett hound with droopy eyes and ears and short little determined legs that made him gallop like a bucking bronco when he ran. he was not an unhappy dog, he had friends, water, food, and an unlimited amount of sunshine and playing time. he grew up in a happy family where he was loved and spent most of his puppyhood being spoiled and sleeping inside where he was not suppose to be. when he got old enough and became to rambunctious to sneak inside he was moved outside to a dog run. now, napoleon thought himself quite the explorer, any chance he got he took of for the closest neighbors field and all the scents and smells that might be there getting himself quite lost in the process. because of this bad habit his humans could not let him run free like all the other dogs. so one day napoleon decided death was the answer. he found the nearest object which happened to be a basketball hoop and wrapped himself around it until he couldn't breathe. at this point he began to realize death was not as painless as he imagined. perhaps death wasn't all it was cut out to be.

its quite possible the grey cat named rusty is the one who planted this idea in napoleons head. rusty is a devious cunning cat with claws that no reasonable animal would mess with more than once every few hours (animals having no real long term memory when it comes to these things). rusty had a habit too, that habit was pretending to be friends with other animals and then leading them to their deaths getting him more sympathy and attention from his clueless humans. its a nasty habit, but very successful. napoleon was to be his first canine victim but he was such a trusting easily fooled creature rusty was sure he would be dead quite soon.

napoleon sat there, the air coming so slowly, his vision blurring, until his human (noticing the uncommon quiet, the lack of howling and barking) saw what was going on and freed him from certain strangulation. at this point napoleon found that death was not the answer. in fact, strangulation was the answer. it was the answer to getting attention whenever he wanted it (since the howling and whining obviously wasn't working). so when the pole was moved for his safety he found a yard tool, and after that a piece of board nearby, until there was nothing within his reach but his water pail and his own cord. napoleon howled and howled, he was stumped. he knew there must be a way, and he knew just who to ask.

rusty sauntered slowly by, tail brushing just under napoleons nose just daring him to sniff and get slashed, and he might have if he hadn't been so deep in thought. "rusty" he said, "i want more attention but they've moved everything away from me, what can i do?" rusty sat down and began licking his left paw, "napoleon, i hardly care what you do with your spare time, but since i am about to take a nap in the sun while i wait for my dinner and i don't want to listen to your horrible noise, i will help you" rusty looked around a moment and said "there are things that can't be moved here my smelly little friend, perhaps you should be a little more creative". napoleon looked around and saw just what rusty was referring too. with a little guidance from his "friend" rusty, he soon found many things that couldn't be moved at all.

the phone wire attached to the house was the most difficult with so little space for him to squeeze through, but he did it. he slithered under and over it and was stuck just in time for the sprinklers to come on. this wasn't the plan, he cried and howled like he was being attacked by something lethal, and was soon rescued. he did this many times until the way was barricaded. he was stumped for awhile, only able to tangle his own cord in frustration, but again rusty gave him some well placed hints and he saw the pole that was attached to the house. very unmoveable, very dangerous since it was next to some stairs and they made a drop off, one misstep and he would hang himself. napoleon was not named napoleon because he gave up easily. napoleon knew a devious cat that had his own interests at heart to give him some ideas on how to make it around. he found a way around the pole again and again and soon he was trapped. he cried out in triumph. move this he thought. he hadn't hung himself (much to rustys dismay who had thought he certainly had him this time) he had won, and from that day forward anytime he was lonely he had only to attempt suicide and out his favorite friend of all would come, very angry, but there all the same with his thumbs to save him.

the end

robins egg blue

robins egg blue. thats the color of the car. right in front of me a black suburban smashed into a robins egg blue car. inside something just as fragile, just as precious, as the colors name. right in front of me my sister, in her first car, just beginning to drive. she drove so carefully, so tentatively, learning the feel of how the pedals reacted under her feet. learning the feel of being in control as the rough pavement sped away under her. right in front of me. the suburban was black, or at least my memory turned it that color. the driver old, accusing, angry. i wanted to scratch their eyes out. the only thing that saved her in the end was instinct. the instinct to run, to hit the gas pedal and get out of the way. even with no experience she knew what to do to keep her life. the car was robins egg blue, sky blue, baby blue. it happened right in front of me. i sat in my fathers truck (i don't remember the color). i sat in the passengers seat looking down, self absorbed. i heard no crash, no tearing metal, lost in whatever i was looking at. and then a sharp inhalation next to me. "oh!" he muttered hand over his mouth. i looked up, not out the window only at him. he pulled off the road, distressed. finally i looked out. the car was robins egg blue. her first car. i am slowly losing memories. i don't remember what i saw. only my sister, hysterical, terrified. my father, distressed, rushing to help her, telling me to stay in the truck. not that i had moved to leave it. i only sat confused, shocked, relieved to see her out of the car and not dead. i am slowly losing memories, but this is one that stays. whenever i cross an intersection. a robins egg blue car in front of me keeps me from being impatient. my sisters hand tells me to wait until its safe. i am slowly losing my memories. but i remember the robins egg blue, her first car and almost her last. i was there but i didn't see. it happened right in front of me and i didn't notice, self absorbed, unaware. i am losing my memories, they are leaving, changing, merging with imagination. how do i know whats real? i remember a moment that i didn't see, didn't notice until after it was over. too late to react, only me as usual trying to catch up to the present and slowly forgetting. i am losing, but not the robins egg blue car, i am waiting a moment longer, and she will be my memory keeper.

L.

:

record lows

piano driven

rain

looking up

vivid picture

definition

counting down

painted canvas

hours

...R...

the view from here

COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

why did i ever stop drinking coffee? was i trying to punish myself? did i really think green tea was better for me? was it because i'm lazy and don't like waiting in the morning for my special french pressed coffee? i think that's it...i blame the lazy. COFFEE!!!! yes, i'm back on the coffee and not a minute too late. i think i can actually feel it flowing through my veins right now. you think i'm kidding.

forget trying to be good to my body because all of the things i was doing (not drinking god's gift to human beings for instance) were really not helping me out at all. in fact, i've ended up feeling worse rather than better so i'm going back to my old ways of doing whatever i want to do to make myself happy. thats right, enough of this whole "being good" shit. i'm done being good. time to be bad so bring it on because i am READY due to the INSANE amount of caffeine flowing through my actual veins instead of blood!! who needs blood? blood is gross. have you seen blood?? coffee is better OBVIOUSLY!!

if you are getting a little jealous of my coffee, here is the jet fuel recipe:

step 1:

grind beans as fine as you possibly can with whatever coffee grinder you have. now grind them again...thats right i said grind them again goddammit its really not that hard to follow a direct order is it? gosh!!

step 2:

fill the bottom of a French Press with this powder. resist snorting it directly because guess what..all the sneezing thats what! now pour boiling water over the grounds and set the French Press top over it to hold in the magical heat.

step 3:

wait. this is the part that might kill you but its worth it so wait. keep waiting. wait for it....waaaaaaait for it....have you been waiting for almost 20 minutes? ok ok its only been 18.5 minutes but go ahead and press that coffee!

step 4:

pour coffee into your favorite mug and smell it. dont drink it yet. inhale the most amazing scent on the planet. say a little thank you prayer to whatever god you believe invented the coffee and take a sip. refrain from crying tears of joy because puffy eyes don't look good on anyone. i said no crying!! god you're such a baby...

COFFEE!!!!

...R...(who loves coffee apparently)

insanity

relatively permanent disorder of the mind

Insanity, craziness or madness is a spectrum of behaviors characterized by certain abnormal mental or behavioral patterns.

Insanity is the second album from melodic death metal band Darkane. It was released on March 6, 2001.

insane - Exhibiting unsoundness or disorder of mind; not sane; mad; deranged in mind; delirious; distracted; Used by, or appropriated to, insane persons; as, an insane hospital; Causing insanity or madness; Characterized by insanity or the utmost folly; chimerical; unpractical

a deranged state of the mind usually occurring as a specific disorder (as schizophrenia)

such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding as prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or as removes one from criminal or civil responsibility

extreme folly or unreasonableness

(highlighted in red, you will find the correct definition of 'insanity', proving that i am NOT insane as was previously suspected. i am not a death metal album, melodic or otherwise)

ahi!

last night we went to a nice restaurant that sits right next to a river. i had never been there so i started looking for something local and fresh on the menu...no such luck, no local fish only ocean fish probably frozen. on the appetizer list they had ahi tuna which is one of my favorite things, so i asked the waitress if they could put it on a salad for me. she said they had such a salad on the lunch menu and they could give me that. so about 20 minutes later out came my salad. i could see that it had been encrusted with something along with the usual sesame seeds but it didn't occur to me to wonder what it was. i just took a big bite and started chewing. well, my eyes started watering, my nose started running and burning, my face turned bright red, i started considering my options which didn't seem to include spitting it out in a crowded restaurant and the only thing that could run through my head was what in the world did they put on this salad, the dressing was on the side, there wasn't any strange veggies on it, then i realized as i painfully tried to swallow the last of the huge bite in my mouth...ah, wasabi, the tuna is green on the outside...why oh why would they want to put that much wasabi on a piece of fish. i know there are people out there that like it and i even like some when its in dressing or mixed with soy sauce, but i couldn't taste the fish or anything else for that matter. this was a fairly expensive restaurant and i couldn't exactly just order something else. after a little while of me pushing it around on my plate wondering if i could scrape enough off to eat it the waitress came over and asked how i liked it. i don't complain about food after its already been brought to me unless its really bad. like if i ask for no tomatoes and they show up i just take them off and never say a word. but what was i going to do, i told her i didn't think i could eat it because there was so much wasabi on it. she asked me what i wanted to do and said she would ask but she might have to charge a portion of it too me. i told her to go find out and give me salmon or something to put on the salad. she did, and she was actually really sweet about it and didn't charge me which is a good thing because i was sitting there thinking wasabi is something a waitress might want to mention when giving something to someone when its not on the menu. the moral of the story is, don't order ahi tuna without knowing what its going to be drowned in, and if its wasabi, probably go for something else...unless you like tasting wasabi and nothing else at all.

birthday number 28

yesterday morning i woke up in a unusually fantastic mood. let me just fill you in on my morning attitude on work days. i get up at 6:30. am. i make it to work without too much drama but as soon as social interaction is introduced the attitude shows up and you might as well just not talk to me till at least 10:00 unless you are one of three people only one of which works in my office. that one person is my boss and she is excluded from the crabby attitude only because of her status as my immediate supervisor and also she is usually way too sweet for me to be mean to...not always though so its a good thing she is so understanding. let me put it this way, at one of our monthly staff meetings a new person commented "oh leah i didn't know you weren't a morning person" to something i said or did, well the entire room burst out in laughter that it took them so long to realize. anyway, back to yesterday. i was really happy, in fact i have a suspicion that the recent refill of my thyroid medicine might have been the culprit because i magically have more refills, like maybe my doctor told them next time i reorder to change the amount. i know it wasn't due to coffee because i hadn't had any yet. this good mood lasted until exactly 11:45 when my wonderful husband (who really had no intention of ruining my day really) informed me that he would be working on my birthday...the day we were suppose to be leaving for vacation and getting somewhere in time for me to do something to celebrate. i know he didn't have a choice and he really did do his best to leave as early as he could (2am) so he could get back as soon as possible. still that meant that i would be spending the majority of my birthday home alone probably cleaning and packing. so the rest of the day was spent in an equally opposite amount of serious depression. i did my best not to take it out on people (unsuccessfully) and went to bed fairly early taking melatonin to speed up the process.

so this morning i slept as long as i could which turned out to be around 8:30 unfortunately. i decided i would make the best of it. after all it was my birthday and what is my favorite thing? saturday mornings when i can get up slowly, alone, and do whatever i want. so to start things off i caught up on a few blogs (thank you very much jill and appocalipstic for having such entertaining things for me to read) that put me in a better mood. soon i was getting birthday wishes from family and that helped quite a bit too. i decided as a birthday present to myself i would buy myself some michael jackson songs. what you say? how does a person go through 28 years of life without owning one michael jackson song? i dont' know how that happened but it was remedied this morning and soon i was dancing around my house cleaning and singing along with smooth criminal and don't stop till you get enough. this inspired me to make a birthday playlist which included these and other songs that have taken me through life like prince, faith no more, feist, heartless bastards, and dragonette, along with lots of others that generally put me in a good mood. so by the time we were ready to leave i was actually having a decent day. so off we went to boise (i know, why, well its something i we both wanted to do and i won't try explaining but i'm actually pretty excited about it) a playlist called birthday number 28 playing over the speakers, straight through the middle of nowhere (i think that is the actual name of the middle of oregon) to the mountains and back out again to arrive in the city losing an hour that i will get back on a day that is not my birthday so i might have to take an hour of another day to finish things up. we headed to our motel where a duck was hanging out in the check in area for some reason and the guy behind the desk who's phone rings with some r&b song asked us if we were the last ones to check in. i said...as in...ever? he laughed and said he only meant the last ones with reservations. so here we are, an unknown adventure spreading out in front of us.

i guess in the end i can't expect other people to make as big of a deal out of birthdays as i do. its important to me and as a child i was always made to feel so special and loved by my family that i guess i just expected other people would have had those same sorts of experiences and want to do the same thing as they got older. but in reality, no they don't. today i learned that i could make it special all on my own with a little help from distant family and friends wishing me happiness.

something learned this year

don't count your chickens before they hatch and probably you should wait until after they are sexed because probably they are not all chickens and you most likely don't want a chicken coop full of roosters...actually unless you just don't like sleep at all you probably won't want any roosters.

L.

a day at the balloon stampede

welcome to the walla walla balloon stampede, we are here to search...i mean serve you.

make yourself comfortable and watch the amazing puppets show that has absolutely no ulterior motives.

one of our friendly feathered guides will make sure you find your way to the right places.

just look at all our happy customers

you'll be happiest when we've taken control of your body...i mean look the easter bunny.

if you like cinnamon rolls you'll love deep fried cinnamon rolls.

there's something for everyone in our drug, i mean food aisle.

if you like coke...here at the balloon stampede we deep fry everything.

of course the experience wouldn't be complete without at least one mohawk.

we have not one

but two spidermen

pay no attention to death lurking around the park, we'll be disposing of him with the rest of the bodies, i mean, death? what? where?

o man, not again

being a man would be easier. i've said it before and i'll say it again and again and again and i'll always be right. the world tells me that i can do anything a man can do, that we have the same opportunities as women and can achieve just as much (even more!) than men. well, i'm not Oprah or Martha or Madonna for that matter. the world does not look at me and see intelligence and character. oh sure sure, after getting to know me the world might get that look in his (yes the world is a man) eye and give me a curt nod and a jab on the shoulder and say "you're alright kiddo and you're one talented human". but at first glance, the world (being male) looks at me and sees a single working woman on her feet in heels for six or seven hours every day serving and selling wine for a living. the heels are for my benefit, not yours, o dear world...but that's not the point. the point i'm trying to make is that being a man would be easier and here is my most recent (among many) illustrations as to why: amid the bustle of a busy night at the wine bar with my male co-worker i overhear a couple as they are leaving their first visit with us ask my partner in crime "so, is this place yours?" and he replies to the negative. i look over in time to see them briefly glance at me and then continue to tell him how much they love it and then they are gone. this is not the first time. this is not the second time. i've actually lost count. for the record i've worked there the longest and poured so much of myself into that store that i feel as though i could call it mine and have it not be a lie. but i'm a woman. it couldn't possibly be my store, could it world?

for the record, when i tell my male friends that its so much easier being a man...they never disagree.

...R...

bukowski's puzzle

i've been working on this for a little while, and i think i'm ready for some feedback...well?

...R...

what not to pack

last weekend i took a flight to seattle. i've had my bags looked through plenty of times and its never been a big deal, but this time was a little different. so here's how it goes. i packed the bare minimum and didn't check anything so could check in online, got to the tiny airport in yakima (not even a gift shop here, so really as small as they get) and sat in the waiting area because apparently its such a small airport they open security about 30 minutes before boarding. while i was waiting i was sitting behind two old lady's talking about weird things like how cheese would be a good snack to take on a flight but "the thing about cheese is if you don't have a refrigerator your screwed" followed immediately by quilting patterns and which ones they were working on etc... finally security opened and i headed through. confident that i would have no problems because i looked through my bag multiple times for anything that they might want to stop me for. as i put my bag in the little bucket thing i slammed it into the head of the guy behind me who was leaning over to pick up his bag. i apologized profusely and he mostly ignored me and the probable bruise forming on his head (people act strange at airports). things went downhill from there. after making it through the line picking up my shoes and purse i was pulled aside so they could look through my bag. of course i thought, why wouldn't they want to look through my mostly empty bag. still, she was being nice about it and its not like the plane was waiting for me so i stood there calmly as she pulled out half the contents and went to run them separately, nope not that time, still in the bag. she came back and looked through the pockets a second time and pulled out everything but my underwear and ran that stuff separately, nope not that time either. she came back and said hmm i just don't see it anywhere it looks like a little, well no i won't say, then she proceeded to look through the pockets a third time. at this point i'm only half paying attention thinking she'll lose interest and say its fine soon. mostly i'm spacing off out the window watching for the plane to arrive and only glancing at her every so often. finally she checks the pockets one more time and pulls out, no not nail clippers the only thing i could think of that might have gotten lost in there somewhere, but a bullet. i gasped and turned beet red and said something like "what the! how? wow, i don't know how i could have possibly missed that or how it got in there but you can throw it away i don't need it" she just kind of smiled and said we can't just throw these kinds of things away (of course, yes i know you can't throw bullets away its not lipgloss for crying out loud) we'll just have to fill out some paperwork and ask you some questions. luckily this is yakima not seattle and they are always really nice there. a cop and two security officers came over took my license and asked me if i had guns (no my husband does) what does he use them for (recreational only) things along this line and also asked if my information on my license was current three times. they filled out a report and took a picture of it next to the bullet and my license (exhibit a). the cop officially announced that he was taking possession of the round and then went to check my criminal history, which apparently was clean. or it was anyway, now i will most likely never get through security quickly again and i may start checking everything just to avoid the stupid scanners. as for how the bullet got there, i'm not sure. there was an open box in the area that i usually keep the bag so maybe one fell in but otherwise it really had no way of getting there. after all that i had to go sit and wait to board with my fellow passengers who i'm sure were very intent on watching the whole thing since there wasn't exactly anything else to do in the tiny terminal. at least the poor man who got smacked with the offending bag got a little satisfaction. now when people ask him what happened to his head he can just smile slyly and say "it was worth it"

L.

notes on supply and pricing

this game is called "pretending to take notes during a supply and pricing meeting" as you can see, i got a lot out of this meeting and i will be going very far in this corporate ladder.

L.

experiment

"subliminal messages are so hard to send when i'm sleep deprived" she complained in a whisper. his eyes glanced over to meet hers. with a wink and a slight smile he seemed to say he was still on her radar even across the bustling room.

...R...

i miss you peter rabbit

i used to wake up every morning and open my blinds to find a little bunny waiting for me. i named him peter. peter was a very cute little guy who had many different moods.

here he is one morning feeling very tired. i'm pretty sure he had a major hangover that day and just didn't even want to look at anybody. i saw him look at my hat with envy as he had no hats to hide the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

hungover

one morning i found him a bit closer to my door and acting quite friendly! i think he'd been on a rather successful date the night before and was feeling very hopeful about his romantic future. keep in mind, this was before valentine's day when that little vixen he was seeing broke his heart.

romantically hopeful

after the valentines day depression wore off, peter only got more and more angry and bitter. you can see in this shot of him just a few weeks ago that he was falling deeper into that hole of despair and getting quite frustrated with love.

bitter

and here is the last time i saw peter. one morning he just had this empty, lost look in his eyes. he sat there completely still and deep in thought the whole morning before glancing my way and slowly hopping off.

forlorn

i miss you peter!!!

...R...

bird obituary

Johnny A. Sparrow died today at only 1 year old. He is survived by three siblings and preceded in death by both his parents who ironically met the same fate as he did. He was killed this morning in a tragic accident involving a dare between him and his friends. They were overheard planning to cross the road at inconvenient times to see who would be brave enough to actually do it. Star Ling spotted a green mustang coming at full speed and volunteered to be the first to go. He made it across but aimed too high and they all decided it didn't count. Next was Fez Zant who barely made it off the grass before the mustang slowed and swerved away making him run away. At that point the show off Maggie Pie showed up and darted out in front of the mustang nearly losing a wing in the process. Not to be shown up Johnny, his three little sisters following behind trying to stop him, went immediately in front of the mustang but he went too low and ended up under the green beast only to be tossed violently against the cement. Dr. Q. A. Lee tried to revive him but was nearly attacked himself and soon gave up. The small gathering of crows that witnessed the event tried to spread the rumor that it was an attempted mass suicide...some believe crows not to be crossed in matters pertaining to death.

His three sisters and friends swore at the funeral that they had learned their lesson and would not run out in front of that horrible mean green mustang ever again. They were soon drowned out by the cackling of crows who have heard this sort of thing before. When it was obvious the crows would not be stopped, the roadside gathering (for nobody was brave enough to go collect poor Johnny) soon dispersed in a slightly annoyed but tearful farewell leaving only a handful of squirrels who have lost more to such a fate and thus have a little more respect for the lost.

L.

goodnight another bad morning

it's a strange thing to envy other people's dreams. i remember being 12 years old, hanging out with my friends and listening as they reported their recent dreams...kissing boys, going shopping, laying on the beach in some tropical wonderland. i kept my mouth shut. i usually don't like to report what goes on in my head when i finally drift off to sleep. there's no reason for people to think i'm crazier than i they already suspect i might be right? well, it's time to give a brief glimpse into where my mind goes when i sleep. for the last few weeks i've been plagued by a wrestling match between my insomnia and my nightmares. the nightmares are winning.

nightmare #10,953

i find myself house sitting for my grandma in my hometown. this two bedroom house is given an immense dark and cluttered attic in this nightmare. two small children have been left in my care, a girl and a boy. the spare bedroom door is opened by one of them and i look in to see a bed stripped of its sheets. one side of it is covered in blood as is the carpet near the door. i realize in my dream that this room has yet to be cleaned up after the death of a woman. (i say "a woman" because it became different people throughout my dream and i'd rather not name names. it's disturbing enough as it is without telling you who it was). it becomes my constant concern that the door remain closed at all times and i frantically try to think of ways to get it cleaned up before my grandma and rest of my family comes home and is reminded of the death that occurred in that bedroom. the two mischievous children refuse to leave the door alone no matter what i do...i'm continually shutting the door to the bloody mess over and over again. it's not just the blood that bothers me but the death was just as upsetting to me as to the rest of the family and yet i'm the one there trying to hide it. i decide to make the children take a nap but they have none of it no matter how hard i try. they run up to the attic and get into all the old things that are laying around. soon my family gets there and i'm still doing the same thing before i wake from the nightmare...i keep shutting the door over and over to hide the blood.

so there you have it, one of many nightmares i've had in the last few days. that same night i had one about a woman murdered by two men in a bank and then being held hostage by those men...but we won't go there. last night i dreamt about running through a field as bombs fell all around me from a hazy sky...we won't go there either. you might see why my usual retort to someone saying "sweet dreams" is "i wish".

...R...

Goodnight Another Bad Morning - The Kills

octomom

yesterday i watched Life on the discovery channel. apparently a male octopus dies a few months after mating and the female octopus won't leave her den after laying her eggs. she will sometimes eat her own arms but never leaves to go hunt for food. then as soon as the eggs hatch she is genetically programed to die, that is if she makes it that far because as soon as she leaves her den she will probably be attacked and eaten by something else since she is too weak to fight them off. i guess the parentless baby octopi (pretending to know what the plural is here) just float around for awhile hoping not to be eaten until they are big enough to go down into the depths and do it all again. also, when they hatch they look like aliens. the ocean is a scary place, i'm glad i'm not a mother there.

L.

on the move

the internet hates me, it only works when i don't really have much time to use it. this morning i got up early to go somewhere and it was working, then i ended up not going and sat down thinking well i might as well take advantage of the internet working and my extra time. but guess what. as soon as i had time it decided not to work. of course. now its working for the moment. we'll see if it works long enough for me to finish this blog...so here is a quick update on my week: case of the mondays running through my head as usual monday morning, how long can this cold last really and can't someone make a cold medicine that works the way tylenol used to with pseudoephedrine, people who outsource customer service to india pretty much have given up on that part of their company and are basically saying that as a customer i am not only on my own but good luck getting ahold of someone in another country that barely speaks english and will not be able to help me at all, finally saturday, alice in wonderland, SO good, walk into macy's to hear my favorite singers on the speakers and stood in happy shock in the middle of the store, now sunday, movies on the couch and discovery channel. i hate daylight savings. i hope i don't lose this now because i can't stand doing things twice.

no, those aren't palm trees...i'm not sure what they are or what possessed our neighbors to create them. but i wouldn't say its a bad idea to make it look a little more tropical around here, maybe it will inspire the weather to cooperate.

we have very environmentally conscious dogs. in an effort to clean up the neighborhood they travel around picking up our neighbors garbage and deposit it in our yard, as close to the garbage can as they can make it without thumbs and a little more height.
as a distraction to driving i started taking pictures with my phone on my way home, safer than texting i think...at least i was looking up...so here are a few pictures on the move.

L.

i think i'll go for a walk outside now

...R...

Sabotage

me: sure sure, i don't mind dropping this ring off to be appraised.

her: thank you! here's the address. it's the Gemological Institute.

me: should be easy. i'll just drop it off and pick it back up for you when its done.

her: you're the best!

me: sigh, i know...

cut to me driving up to the GIA gate in my little white Yaris blasting The Beastie Boys. o look, a security gate! well it only makes sense considering there are probably a lot of diamonds in this facility. the guard comes over and asks the reason for my presence and i tell him i would like to have a ring appraised. he takes my I.D. (that's one) and has me pull over to wait as he goes back into his booth to make sure i'm not a criminal or simply to make fun of my DMV picture. as if anyone looks good in those...anyway he brings me my parking pass and directs me to visitor parking, instructs me to go into the main lobby to the receptionist and let them know i need to visit "the lab". now i'm getting a little nervous. before i pull away he informs me one of my rear lights isn't working. meticulous aren't they? i pull into a designated visitor spot and walk up the pristine path to the lobby. there are so many shiny things i feel like a distracted two year old as i walk to reception. again i tell them i'm here to have a ring appraised. the security guard asks for my ID (that's two) and after checking it, has me look into a camera for my picture to be taken. out comes a stick-on badge with my picture, name, the date and time on it. i apply it to my members only jacket and wait for my security escort to "the lab". after about five minutes nobody has come so the desk security guy offers to walk me there. i try small talk "this place is gorgeous!" he says nothing. okay. another security officer meets us in the hallway and i get the handoff. the new security guard asks if i need to use the restroom first and i start to sweat a little bit. where exactly is he taking me and do i at least get a phone call? we walk outside and toward another building. my escort tells me they will need to see my ID at the booth before entering the new building. i walk into a small holding area where another security officer sits behind what i assume is bulletproof glass. he asks to see my ID (that's three) and has me sign in as a visitor, open my purse for inspection, and hands me another visitor tag to put on my members only jacket. i feel like my pieces of flair could land me a great job at TGIF at this point. i'm allowed to walk alone to another lobby where i'm told to wait. after waiting for another ten minutes or so a woman finally tells me i can enter door B (there are three doors labeled A, B and C). but i don't want door B! i want to choose door C!!! at this point i know better than to argue so in i go. i find myself in a tiny closet with more bulletproof glass and a small counter. she shows up on the other side to finally hear what it is i'm there for. i smile and tell her i'm here to have my sister's ring appraised and i pull it out of my purse for her to see. she kindly informs me that they don't do appraisals in settings. i would have to bring the diamond in loose for them to register and appraise. she writes down a phone number for my sister to call to find a place to take the ring to be appraised in its setting. i'm allowed to go back the way i came in without a security escort at any point which surprises me.

as i drive away, i just wonder why they don't ask a few more questions at the first or even second security checkpoint. questions such as "are you bringing a loose stone to be appraised because if not you are going to waste a lot of people's time and we really don't want to be bothered with your puny little diamond ring... cant you see what an important place this is?!" instead i just blast a little more Beastie Boys for the gate security guard as i'm sure he could use a little excitement......

Listen All Of Y'all This Is Sabotage
Listen All of Y'all This Is Sabotage

I Can't Stand It, I Know You Planned It
I'ma Set It Straight This Watergate
I Can't Stand Rockin' When I'm In This Place
Because I Feel Disgrace Because You're All In My Face
But Make No Mistakes And Switch Up My Channel
I'm Buddy Rich When I Fly OffmThe Handle
What Could It Be, It's all a Mirage
You're Scheming On A Thing That's Sabotage

...R...

ah memories

1991 rocked. need proof?

(can you tell it's also

the year i started taking dance classes?)

Unbelievable - EMF

Set Adrift On Memory Bliss - PM Dawn

...R...

on garlic and dentists

my very first dentist was named dr. blessing, and he really was a great dentist. after the first visit, preceded of course with the ritualistic stories of giant needles and huge drills meant to drill deep into my teeth, i never was afraid to go see him. since him i have been to many dentists some good and way too expensive some affordable and not so great. currently (since i have insurance and can go to a decent one) i'm going to a dentist named dr. voltz who seems to be a perfectionist and very detail oriented which is what a person looks for in someone who is sticking a drill inside their mouth. however he is a little odd, for instance when he wants me to stick my tongue out he says "ok now can you stick your lil tongue out?" making it hard for me not to laugh at him while trying to keep my mouth open and my tongue out, also as he works he tells me what a good job i'm doing, as if i should win some award for sitting there perfectly still while he does all the work...so today i went in to fix a broken filling, i knew i had an appointment, but at lunch time i decided it would be a good idea to have some salsa with a ton of garlic in it. it was really good. i got almost done eating and realized that later that day i would be sitting in a chair, mouth gaping, people hovering right above me unable to avoid the smell. so i bought some coffee and chewed as much gum as i could, to cover it up as much as possible...they moved my appointment up two hours...and it didn't work. i realized that they were working as far away from my face as they could get without getting so far away that they couldn't see and they kept telling me to turn away further so i was more at an angle, and i don't think it was so they could see a different part of my tooth. the nurses there are all really sweet too, they didn't say anything. but here is how i imagine the conversation went after i left.

nurse#1: (looking at nurse #2 with big eyes eyebrows raised) Wow.

nurse#2: (with shocked expression hand covering mouth) seriously, what kind of a jerk eats that much garlic right before a dentist appointment.

nurse#3: (shaking head) i mean did we miss a clove hidden under her tongue or something,

how is it even possible that it was THAT strong.

nurse #2: (spraying air freshener and lighting a candle) thanks a lot for making her turn

towards me the whole time i almost passed out...thank goodness i was chewing gum

that at least kept me from gagging.

nurse #3:(opening window and sticking her head out) well what was i suppose to do i was

tearing up and i was the one doing all the work, lets mark her file so we know to get

one of the other nurses to work on her. we can go to lunch or something and hand her

off to some other poor unsuspecting soul. i just don't understand it...does she think

we're vampires or what?

L.

13,000 and holding

From here

no lines are drawn

From here

no lands are owned

13,000 and holding

swallowed in the purring

of her engines

tracking the Beacon here

"Is there a Signal

there on the other side"

On the other side?

What do you mean side of what things?

and you said

and you did

and you said

you would find me here

and you said

you would find me

even in Death

and you said

and you said

you'd find me

But I can't see New York

As I'm circling down

through white cloud

Falling out and I know

his lips are warm

but I can't seem to find

my way out

my way out

of this hunting ground

L.

darkness, my old friend

i used to be afraid of the dark. as most children are, terrified of what might be lurking in the shadows waiting to chase me up the basement stairs of my childhood home or jump out from under my bed just as the lights went off. i grew up in a religious environment so my monsters took on the characteristics of demons and fallen angels. when it's eternal life at stake, those demons can be scarier than the average ghoul in the closet. i'm not a child anymore. at some point i stopped being afraid of the dark, instead embracing it for its beauty and mystery. don't get me wrong, i still wake up from routine nightmares wishing it were light again so my racing heart would slow and my brain calm enough for me to sleep again. aside from this, darkness doesn't scare me anymore. sometimes its only in the dark, as your eyes adjust completely, that you can finally see clearly into the darkest parts of your heart...

...R...