Manifest Green

Rescue Ink!

I posted the website on my blogroll a while ago and just saw that there is a TV show coming out about them!

These doods are seriously cool in my eyes.  Anyone that stands up for animals is pretty cool in my book.

 

Clips from their shows

RescueInk.org website

Almost Awkward

I went ahead and typed out my TMI post just in case I didn’t feel like it tomorrow.  And I set it up to post.  But I almost posted it just now.  How awkward would that have been!?

It’s been another day.  I meant to come home and sew, but didn’t really feel like it when I got here.  I just feel like lounging.  I wish I could get motivated to do STUFF, but I just wanna lounge and enjoy myself.

And eat tamales.

The weather finally turned and it has been nice and cool all day.  I have the windows open and a nice breeze blowing through.  The dogs are all lazy and thrown around like rugs all over the living room carpet.  The TV is droning softly in the background.  I can hear people crunching through leaves out in the parking lot.  Somewhere a police car is blaring, pulling someone over.

Ah, the city.

These are the lazy days for me.  My favorite time of year.  The stores and farmers markets are selling apples and lots of root veggies.  I can almost imagine wrapping up in lots of blankets (since I refuse to use the central heat).  And I can pull out my long sleeves soon!

In time I will write yet another blog of why, if you can help it, not use your heat in your home.  Wait for it!

Right now I am imagining baked apples. 

Sigh.

Phew!

Today was actually a great day!  I hope this continues all week!  I was a bit grumpy this morning because I am tired of having to do other people’s jobs sometimes, but I got over it fairly quickly.  I am supposed to work tomorrow, but if it isn’t busy, then I won’t.  I hope it’s not busy tomorrow.  Only because if I have to go in then I will not have a day off this week.  And I really, really like my days off.

Brett will be coming home from his man weekend tomorrow, so tonight will be the last night of just me and the furbabies. 

Depending on what time I wake up in the morning I will be sewing.  I need to cut out the pattern for Jenn’s  Halloween apron.  I left my apron at home, so I can’t make the pattern for the others.  I think it’s going to be cute!  I am also going to try my hand at making some ragdolls.  And I am making a list of a few other projects that I am going to attempt at a later date.  I’m kind of hoping I can get good enough at sewing that I can just sew for a living!  That’d be pretty freaking cool!  I mean, that’s what my Grandmother did for a living.  Being creative, in a chair, by myself all day, is a dream of mine.  Unfortunately, though, I have to work to make $$$.

Stupid having to work!

Actually, it isn’t that I mind working, I just hate standing up all day, every day.  I am constantly sore.  My arms hurt from keeping them lifted.  My back hurts from standing all day and from keeping my arms lifted.  My legs are always tired.  And the worst is how my ankles and feet feel all of the time.  Talk about soreness.  I suppose it could be worse, but for me this is pretty damn bad. 

So yeah.

List of projects, doing projects, having fun with projects.

Oh!  And some great news!:  between Dal and I at work we have been getting everyone to start recycling stuff more, rather than throwing it all away.  I always saved my recyclables at work, but no one else did.  But now Dal takes cans and paper and plastic home with her from the shop to recycle, so everyone has started putting it off to the side for her.  I think it’s great!  It makes me very excited that for once everyone is doing something good for the environment, even though it is just to appease Dal.

Anyhoo, I guess I am going to go lounge now!

I hope this week is really over

Craziness happened this week.  Read:  someone defamed my character and created libel against me.  I will know in a couple of  weeks what action I can take.  Though I greatly appreciate everyone who said nice things about me and tried to save the situation as best they could. 

And then another strange person came into my life today and caused a slight bit of chaos.

Really?  Is this week almost over?

I am watching the conclusion of the Beatles Anthology.

I also plan on starting the TMI for next week this weekend.  It’s a good one.  It’s something I nearly forgot about, but at some point remembered it.  I almost wrote it for this week, but due to the stupidness of the situation this week and being just plain tired i decided to wait until next week.  Otherwise it would sound all tired and boring like everything else lately. 

By the way, do you guys still love me?  I hope so.

So this week:  rain and flooding, libel and defamation, stress and no sleep.

Next week:  smilies and happiness, rest and relaxation, enjoying Fall.

I hope.

The Tale Of Crazy Ol’ Kudzu

There is a tiny town in Georgia called Alvaton.  It is so tiny, in fact, that there is not Wikipedia page on it.  So tiny, it isn’t even listed on the Meriwether County Wikipedia page.  That’s tiny, huh?  Anyway, Alvaton has a resident named Wally Gordon.  And this is Wally’s tale:

Wally was once married to a beautiful woman named Gracie.  Oh, she was such a beauty that all of the townswomen were jealous of her, and all of the townsmen were jealous of Wally.  She had hair so blonde it was almost snow white.  She kept her hair in the coif of those days, pin curls, so that it was much as though she had many cotton balls on her head, wound into a sculpture, a piece of art to wear daily. 

One day Gracie went missing.  Wally never reported her missing, yet the townsfolk noticed and began to question what happened to her.  Wally told everyone that she had run off with another man, and had taken her poodle, Peaches, with her. 

Well, over the years it’s what people believed.  And over the years Wally became hermit-like, a recluse, a lone wolf facing the world in sadness.  He lost his home and began living out of the abandoned gas station.  The kudzu grew over the gas station, hiding him from the world and the world from him.  He began wearing a long pedo-style trench coat every day, no matter the weather.  He began wearing kudzu colored surgical scrubs daily, also, earning him the name Crazy Ol’ Kudzu.  His flippy floppies were made from kudzu daily.  His hair was a shock of white, much like cotton when pulled from the wound used for permanent waves that has been glued to construction paper by a five year old in art class.  He developed an eye problem that some say was born from living without electricity in a kudzu covered gas station, and trying to read the stolen newspaper in the dark.  You could never tell what he was looking at when he was looking at you.  His left eye would just go around and around in a circle, as though he were looking left, up, right, down, repeat….constantly.

His daily living was working for him until recently.  It was the day Gracie returned.  Or should I say, her spirit returned?

It started when Alma Mae, the woman that owns the antique shoppe across the street, was cleaning the window on the front door of the shoppe.  She looked across the street, noticing Kudzu standing out where the gas pumps used to be, staring at the ground and talking to himself.  This was a daily occurrence, so it didn’t alarm her at all.  But what happened next did.  What she saw caused her to sigh loudly while throwing her hand to her forehead and calling for her husband, Herbert, that she felt she had the vapors and was planning on fainting.  He ran over to catch her, and that’s when he saw what she had seen.  Standing across the street, just behind Kudzu, was Gracie and Peaches.  She was a beautiful as the day she disappeared.  She hadn’t aged at all.  And this vision caused Herbert to also faint.  Or it could have been the weight of Edna Mae’s butt that was causing strain on him that made him pass out, but I think it was actually seeing Gracie and Peaches that caused it.

After Herbert and Edna Mae came to they rushed to tell everyone about it.  But no one, not one person, believed them.  Why, to see Gracie and Peaches must mean that they were dead!  And they weren’t dead!  They ran off!  Well, Peaches was probably dead, unless she lived for many decades, but Gracie was alive and well, some say in Mineral Bluff, Georgia, north of Atlanta (still a small town, doesn’t have a Wikipedia page nor is it listed on the Fannin County Wikipedia page!).  But Herbert and Edna Mae knew what they had seen and decided to get to the bottom of it.

The next day Edna Mae set her Polaroid up on a table at the front door.  Herbert tippy toed across the street and hid amongst the kudzu covered trees that lined the side of what used to be the parking lot.  After about fifteen minutes Crazy Ol’ Kudzu emerged from the vine enclosed building and walked over to the spot where the gas pumps used to be.  He stood quietly for a moment, then he began to sob.  Herbert watched intently.  Edna Mae pretended to dust the same shelf by the window over and over, never taking her eyes from the crazy old, green clad, pedo-coat wearing man across the street. 

“Oh, Gracie!”, Kudzu exclaimed quietly.  “I didn’t mean it.  I would do anything to take it back!  I just wish….I just wish you could forgive me!  What could I possibly do to take it back!?”

Herbert was taken aback!  What was Kudzu talking about?  Herbert carefully inched forward, being careful to pull his portly belly up off the ground as not to make any noise by it scraping the dead, dried leaves beneath it.

“Gracie, I am so sorry!  I never meant to hurt you!  I just didn’t realize that you would be coming home so soon!  You frightened me!  Oh, Gracie!  I am so sorry!”

Suddenly, Gracie and Peaches appeared once again, standing behind Kudzu, just as before.  Herbert caught his breath.  Edna Mae grabbed her camera, pointed and took a picture.   She laid it upside down on the table and pointed for another picture.  But then Gracie began moving.  She moved right up to Kudzu, then walked past him.  Peaches stayed sitting wear she was, not moving a muscle.  Herbert watched as Gracie seemed to move towards him.  He back up a bit.  Just a bit.  She walked closer and closer.  And just when he thought he would die of fright, her ghost swooshed faster than the eye could see up to him, her nose not even an inch from his.  He could feel iciness around him, even though the weather outside was so hot and humid that the skeeters were eating him alive.  Edna Mae stood frozen in the antique shoppe, watching through the camera, not believing what she was seeing.

“The tanks”, whispered the apparition.  “Check the tanks.”

And Herbert fainted.

Minutes later Herbert came to.  Edna Mae was shaking him.

“Husband!  Husband, wake up!  Wake up, Husband!”, she blubbered quietly, yet frantically, as she shook the ever living shit out of him.  “What happened?”

Herbert Shook his head as he got up on all fours.  “She done said to check the tanks!  We gotsta call Sherriff Rolan about this!”

Creeping back across the street to the shoppe, they kept looking over their shoulders to make sure Kudzu didn’t catch them.  Herbert ran to the phone can dialed the sheriffs home number.  After a few minutes he convinced the sheriff to come by and take a look at the picture.  When the sheriff arrived he saw the picture and Herbert and Edna Mae told their story. 

Well, let me tell you what:  The sheriff was very curious as to the tank story.  So he called Joe Bill down with the town backhoe and a pickax to start digging away. 

It was a few minutes with the pickax before the ground gave loose and fell into the tank.  There was a large hole in the top of tank.  The dirt and tarmac just kinda fell through. 

Looking down into the hole the Sheriff Rolan pointed.  “What is that?  It looks like cotton!”

“Well, Sir, it looks like cotton to me, too!”, replied Joe Bill.

“It’s not,” came a voice from behind them.

They both turned and saw Crazy Ol’ Kudzu.  He walked toward them and stopped…looking down into the hole, he shook his head slowly, one tear sliding down his cheek.  He began his tale:

“She didn’t run off with another man.  She never woulda done that to me.  She caught me cheating on her.  But I didn’t mean to hurt her!  I didn’t!  And her damn dog!  I didn’t mean to hurt that damn dog, either.  But she came in.  She caught me!  With Melvin Hartin.  In bed.  Her bed.  And she flew at me!  She flew at me and screamed.  And then Peaches started to attack Melvin!  So I pushed Peaches off of him!  And she was coming at me, but I pushed Peaches in her way and she tripped and fell over that damn dog!  And she hit her head hard on Melvin’s belt bucket.  And I thought she was just passed out, but when I rolled her over you could see the imprint of the buckle on her forehead and there was blood coming out of her nose and she wasn’t breathin’ and I just kind freaked out….so I’s tell Melvin to get on out and I would take care of it.  So he jus’ left and I was scared!  So at night I crept over here and dug up around knowing that no one would ever look twice at this place!  And I buried her in there.  And when I went to put the dirt back in that damn dog jumped in the hole and I couldn’t get him back out.  And when I tried he bit me.  And then he grabbed the shovel with his mouth and started pulling dirt in.  So I just shoved the dirt in.  So it’s not cotton.  It’s Gracie.  And Peaches.”

The sheriff rubbed his forehead and looked down.  Then he bent down and jumped in the hole.  Carefully kicking loose dirt aside, he uncovered the rest of Gracie’s skull and peered at it.

“Well, I guess we’re gonna hafta give her a proper burial.  Joe Bill, go get a box so we can unload the bones…Kudzu…I mean, Wally?  Can you answer a question for me?”

Kudzu looked him in the eye, “What do you need, Sheriff?”

“My wife always wanted to know..how did Gracie get her hair so perfect?”

“Well, Sheriff, she kept the clippings off Peaches rear and made herself a wig!”

 

And that is the story of Wally Gordon.  Or at least that’s the story my mother and I made up on the drive back home from Columbus.

A long time coming…

Ok, so here’s the story. 

My mom came down on Wednesday afternoon and we had a grand old time.  We went Targeting.  Which is one of my all time favorite stores.  I got a dress and some slacks.  I can’t remember what my mom bought.  Anyhoo.

We woke up really, really early on Thursday to get ready to go to the base for the Turning Blue ceremony.  We left Atlanta at 5 in the morning.  Did you know there is a 5 in the morning?  I sure as hell didn’t.  Well, I didn’t realize there people were out and about at that hour.  But they are!

Anyway, my mom is one of “those” drivers.  You know them:  seat pulled all of the way up to the steering wheel, sitting ramrod straight in the seat, both hands on the steering wheel at 10 and 2 at all times, actually does the “driving motion” (you know, when you pretend to hold a steering wheel and move your hands up and down like you’re driving?), nervous when cars and trucks fly by, drives at or under the speed limit.  Yeah, my mom is the one you are flipping off and screaming at when you are driving.  So imagine being on a road trip that should take and hour and a half with her driving.  Yeah, it’s that excruciating.  Did I mention she is a brake stomper?  Whenever she thought that a car that passed her might turn around and come back toward her she would stomp the brake.  Luckily I was wearing my seatbelt, so I didn’t go through the windshield. 

Anyhoo, when we finally get to Columbus we got lost.  This is because the directions I printed said one thing, my GPS on my Crackberry said another.  I believed the printed directions.  They were wrong.  I think.  Actually, we never find out if they were wrong or not.  We turned off the freeway and onto the road, but the road dead ended!  Like, it went on further, but it was blocked off.  So I called my nephews dad and he gave us REAL directions.  And we were there in no time!  Well, kinda.  We were at the checkpoint almost on base, but we had to wait in line with a million and one other cars!  But we got there, still. 

Now this is the great part.  My mom, Chris’s dad and stepmom, and I were all standing up against a wall.  it was announced that the ceremony would start in 20 minutes.  So us ladies decided to run to the little girl’s room.  And we did.  How about when we get back and go back to our spot on the wall this stupid bitch tries to start shit by saying her and her family were there first and we needed to move?  Do you think we moved?  Hells no!  And how about I have a bunch of pictures of her and her stupid family because their son was standing next to Chris and they were in the way while I was trying to take pictures.  I mean, seriously?  You wanna start shit on a military base?  What a cun…bitch.

So anyhoo, here are some pictures:

How crazy is this picture?  I call it a ghost picture, but it’s just because the shutter was slow.

I was wondering if they had their legs bent at all to keep from passing out.  I totally couldn’t stand like that for as long as they did.

Chris is the one looking straight ahead.  This was when we were trying to get to him so his dad could put the blue cord on his uniform.  Those two blond heads?  The darker blond was the stupid bitch and the blonder is her daughter.

This was after his dad (the dood in the orange shirt) got the cord put on his uniform.  Notice bitch, bitch’s daughter, and bitch’s husband standing in the way.

Chris and his dad after the ceremony.

Chris and his dad and stepmom!

A candid shot.

After the Turning Blue ceremony he got an eight hour pass for the Columbus area.  I’m not sure what was in his rucksack, but I mainly felt bad that he had to continue wearing this snazzy little uniform in the heat and humidity.

Chris out in the parking area about to leave base.  Such a handsome boy!

Anyway, my mom and I went to check into our hotel and we wanted to take showers.  It was sooooo hot and humid down there!  And the ceremony was outside, of course.  I mean, why on earth would it possibly be inside somewhere with air conditioning?  That would just be plain ass silly!  Anyhoo, as soon as we get showered and all we walked over to the restaurant beside the hotel to meet the three of them for a dinner.  Chris ordered a burger.  A BURGER!  I mean, why not a steak?  His answer was, “we eat steak all the time”.  You mean to tell me that the Army is feeding them steak?  What kind of steak?  Like, t-bone or filet mignon?  I don’t know.  I figured they got stuff like potted meat and government cheese.  Not steak. 

Steak.

So it was decided that we were going to go hunt down the Infantry Museum so we would know where it was beforehand, since that is where the graduation was to take place.  Oh!  I took this picture at the restaurant:

 My nephew and I!

So yeah, we found the Infantry Museum.  And we had an hour before it closed so we went in for a partial visit with Chris as our tour guide!

 

       These were taken out front of the museum.

Inside the museum!

So we went on the partial tour.  And finally it was time to go.  Lots of hugs later my mom and I headed back to the room to get ready for bed.  Chris’ dad ended up calling a few hours later to let us know that the graduation ceremony was moved up an hour.  I took a sleeping pill, my mom read for a while and went to sleep.  Did I sleep?  NO!  Why, you ask?  Because my mother is a snorer.  LOUD snorer.  I swear, I am never sleeping in the same room with her ever again.  I slept a total of 3 hours or so.  And we woke up late.  Like, and hour and a half late.  Seriously.  We ended up getting to the museum on time, though.  So it’s cool.

Ah, graduation.  I am a terrible picture taker.  Sorry.

Chris’ platoon.

  Chris and his drill sergeant.

Chris, his dad and his stepmom.

After graduation we decided to finish going through the museum

Soldier’s Creed.

  There was a dress up room for the kids, so Chris decided to put on a drill sergeant hat.  It was pretty funny.  He was doing the whole yelling like a drill sergeant.  I wish I had gotten it on video!

So yeah.  After all of that they started home to Texas and my mom and I started back to Atlanta.  But the driving!  Oh, dear God, the driving!  So we were tired, cranky, and starving to death.  That made for a fantastic car ride!  We ended up getting off the freeway at Pine Mountain (where my wedding was) and stopped at the Callaway Garden Country Store for lunch.  Good old Southern food.  Country fried steak with country white pepper gravy, mashed taters with brown gravy, fried okra, fried green tomatoes with hot vinegar, and biscuits.  And iced tea!  Not sweet, though.  I don’t like sweet tea.  Just plain old unsweet tea, please. 

And back to Atlanta.  Oh!  On the way we saw Crazy Old Kudzu.  But that’s another story for another day.  Just remember that we saw him!

And back home.  Tired.  Wanted a shower.  Wanted to lounge on the couch and watch TV, take some sleepy stuff.  And that’s exactly what I did!

My mom ended up waking up early Saturday morning and driving back home.  She was home by 10 am.  So she left around, what?  Six, I think.

You know what I did?  Nothing, that’s what.  Not one damn thing.

It felt nice.

(I would like to apologize for the manner in which this was written.  I’m not really in a writing mood, but I decided to go ahead and share this with you.  If you found it boring, I am sorry.  I shoulda done a better job.  You don’t hate me and find me boring and swear to never visit my blog again, right?  RIGHT!?!?!?)

A one picture post

This picture is my nephew, Christipher, and I at his graduation from basic training!  I will be posting more pictures and the whole story (from my mom getting to Atlanta to today) later on.

 

Yes, I know....sigh....

I have been slack.  But only because nothing super exciting has been going on!

Besides disliking work recently.  Like, really-REALLY-disliking work.  It's a slump.  I guess I may go through this every year.  I dunno.  Never paid attention before.  Or have I?  I should look back at my posts from last year and find out.

Anyhoo, I will not be participating in this weeks TMI Thursday, unless someone else writes one for me.  I guess my slump is falling into my bloggy life, too.

I will have some pictures and stuff this coming weekend, though.  My mom is driving down tomorrow so that we can go to my nephews basic training graduation on Thursday and Friday.  Yay!  So excited!  Fo' realz.

So, yeah.  Sorry I am such a slack ass.  The most excitement for me at the moment is that Sons of Anarchy is back on for another season.  And my nephew's graduation.  And quite possibly that my home is (almost) completely clean.

Ok, I am gonna go gear up for another night of insomnia, twisting and turning and rolling in circles, twisting the bedsheets up and annoying the shit out of Brett while he tries to snooze.

Good night!

TMI Thursday: Because Touching Someone Else's Isn't Bad Enough

Just like Frau Lilu likes to suggest:

 ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!***

I am actually enjoying using the Comic Sans for these stories that I have others write for me.  This week I would like to introduce my husband, Brett, and his double disgusting TMI that he lovingly wrote for you!  Enjoy!

It was the summer of 1993.  I was 17 years old and had just graduated from high school.  It was still a couple of months until I started college and seeing as how I was still living with the folks, I had next to no responsibility. 
My home during high school was in a suburb of a suburb of Atlanta but when I was in 6th and 7th grade, I lived in a small rental house with my parents while our house was being built.  During those two years I became good friends with a guy that lived down the street named Ted.  Even after I moved out of that house, we kept in touch and hung out frequently over the years.  We usually kept things relatively tame but that fateful night in 1993, things got a little out of hand.

The evening started out innocently enough.  Ted, myself and another friend of his (Matt) were going to make a trip to an indoor paintball place nearby for some fun.  Paintball was fun-  I shot some folks, I got shot, I made a kid cry. You know...nothing out of the ordinary.  On the way home from the paintball place, Matt revealed that his parents were out of town and that it would be cool if we crashed at his place.  To make things more interesting, he said that his sister would probably be willing to go to the liquor store and buy us some booze if we paid for her to have some for herself.  Now, you have to keep in mind that we were not exactly what you'd call party animals so the idea of getting drunk was pretty novel at the time. 

We made the necessary calls to our parents letting them know where we were and what we were doing (playing video games).  When we arrived at Matt's house, his older sister agreed to our proposal and we all piled in the car to head to the store.  With all of us being new to the world of alcohol, we agreed to keep it simple and get a bottle of rum with which to make rum and cokes.  The buy went off without a hitch and before we knew it, we were sitting on the floor of Matt's kitchen taking our first swigs of the liquid.

Up until this point in my life, I had never had much experience with alcohol with the only exceptions being the occasional beer or glass of champagne given to me by my parents.  My limited experience had left me with no real concept of what "drunk" felt like.  I had had a few drinks here and there and never felt anything at all so my logic was that I must have a pretty good tolerance. 

 Well... I was wrong.

We started off with just drinking rum and cokes and things were going well.  At some point early in the night one of us (I think Matt) suggested that we play a drinking game called Chandeliers.  If you've never played, its a version of quarters.

This is where the story really takes a turn for the worse. 

I don't know if we made it through more than a couple of rounds of the game when we ran out of Coke so we decided to just drink the rum straight.  At this point, we were all feeling pretty good and saw no harm in just drinking shots.  After another couple of rounds, our fifth was empty.  Not taking this as a good sign to stop, Matt pointed out that his parents had a bottle of rum in their liquor cabinet and that we should just drink that one too.  Hot damn, that sounded great!

This is where things start getting a little fuzzy in my memory.  I know that Matt and Ted stopped drinking at some point and were sitting in the living room while I was turning the bottle of rum up and thinking about how pretty the bubbles were as they went up into the bottle as I chugged.  I believe that we eventually killed that bottle as well and to be perfectly honest, that is probably the only reason that none of us ended up at the hospital that night getting our stomach pumped.

I joined Ted and Matt in the living room to talk about girls and sports and how awesome we were.  I remember that Ted was the first one to let it go. 
"Sblrrrghs... I dunghs feelghl goooood"

And with that, he staggered to the kitchen and puked in the sink.  Kudos to Ted for actually making it to a quasi-appropriate spot to spew.  Unfortunately, Ted had puked into the side of the kitchen sink that did not have the disposal in it, so it clogged the drain and just kind of sat there.  Matt and I suggested (from the living room) that Ted try to just run water down the sink to unclog the drain.  It sounded like a great idea at the time but the only thing it accomplished was turning a small puddle of vomit into a couple of gallons of watery vileness that smelled like death.  Well, Ted really had no idea about how to go about unclogging the drain so I decided to step in.  You might think that I would grab a long spoon or a spatula or a knife to kind of stir things up and let the goo drain but you would be wrong.  I just stuck my arm into the muck and removed the clog.  Believe it or not, this didn't gross me out in the least at the time, though it makes me a little queasy as I think about it now.  Matt, unfortunately, was not as fortunate.  He bolted for the bathroom and made it just in time to hurl in the toilet.  Double kudos Matt!  You got your sick into the perfect receptacle! 

I had a good chuckle at poor Ted and Matt as I rinsed the last of Ted's vomit off of my arm.  I'm sure that I was talking a healthy amount of trash about them not being able to hold their liquor.  I had no idea that karma was working very quickly that night.

I am not sure what happened in the meantime but my next memory is me sitting on the middle of the floor in the living room while Ted and Matt sat on the couch.  Man... something was wrong in my stomach and the only solution was to empty the contents.  Quickly.

I could barely control my actions... I know that I was drooling a bit and I was pawing for the trashcan as Ted and Matt tried to drunkenly kick it towards me without puking themselves again.  I grabbed the trashcan, wrapped my arms and legs around it, held on tightly. And stared down into the darkness inside. It was at this time that I had the conversation that anyone who has ever had too much to drink has:

"God!  Please... Never again.... Please Please Please God make this go away and I will never drin...mmmmphsghphlurrrgh!"

And with that, I heaved and my stomach expelled its contents with such force that my head was being pushed backwards like it was the nozzle of a fire hose...but I was determined to keep my head inside the safe confines of that bucket.  Unfortunately... and unbeknownst to me (at least for another split second) my body had failed to remain sitting upright and I was falling over backwards...face in bucket...vomit coating the insides like putrid stucco. 

BANG! 

My head found the sliding glass door behind me.  It didn't give and I slid to my left....onto my back...face still in the bucket...still puking...

I'm sure that you realize that gravity was indeed still in effect that night and there was only one way for the vomit to go.  Down.  On my face. 

 Unfortunately, I remember details about this moment.  The warmth of the stomach juices as they coated my cheeks.  The way things sounded differently as my ears were filling.  The tickle of juices dripping down the back of my neck.  The way my nose filled with liquid and chunks of Arby's roast beef.
Blacking out at that time was very fortunate for me.  I woke up the next day laying in a Lazyboy recliner with no idea (to this day) of how I got there.  The scene surrounding me was horrifying.  Puke covered the entire floor of the living room.  The plush carpet, soaked with foul smelling chum.
The rest of the day wasn't nearly as traumatic as the previous night.  I somehow managed to crawl into the shower and wash off the filth before driving to Wal-Mart and purchasing every cleaning supply known to man with which I somehow restored that room to its previous condition.

I was banished from Matt's house by his sister, never to return.

I was hung over for the better part of 3 days.

I didn't drink for 2 years afterwards.

Isn't that just appetizing?
Matt's parents never knew.

I WAS CALLED MA’AM!!!!!

stupid hotel…..

Why must she throw up hairballs on herself!?!?

Just as I started to type I heard the familiar noise of Scallop the Useless Cat start her daily hoarking.  It looks and sounds similar to this (disclaimer: this is totally not my cat…but it sounds the most like her!):

 

It is so very disturbing.  And even more disturbing is that she doesn’t do it once.  Or twice.  BUT THREE TIMES!  In three different places.  Three different areas of the carpet.  And then I have to stop what I am doing, shoo the dogs away and clean it up.  Gag.

So yeah.  That is over and done with (unless she…is she doing again!?!?  No, I think she is laying down) so I can go on.

Gag.

Anyhoo, I may have mentioned that my noisy, stupid, gaming neighbors moved out recently.  And all has been nice and quiet.  Until today.  The cleaners, painters and handymen have been over there stomping up and down the stairs and yelling at each other.  I have screamed, “QUIT SLAMMING THE FUCKING DOOR YOU STUPID DOUCHEBAG!” about four times now.  In the pat hour that I have been home.  I think I am scaring the shit (or hairballs) out of the furbabies by doing it. 

That was just a little soumpin’, sumpin’ to get ya’ll started on this. 

Today’s actual topic is your hair care products and why they are totally wrong for you.

So…what kind of products do you use?  Shampoo?  Conditioner?  Gel?  Pomade?  Wax?  Hairspray (the original was a great movie!)?  Mousse?  What?  What do you use?

Well, I use very few products.  I use, on a daily basis, shampoo and conditioner.  That’s all.  And not just any, but some very good shampoo and conditioner.  AND you can buy it in an actual store.  Like, maybe not Satan (Wal)-mart, but my Kroger sells it, and so does Whole (paycheck) Foods!  And I love it.  I have actually written about it before.  I go between Herbal and Hemp Nature's Gate products.  And not the fancy-schmancy ones in the green and red bottles, but the regular, everyday ones in the white bottles.

Let me give you a little lesson on hair care products:

Number One-you don’t actually need them.  It is a well known fact that you don’t actually have to wash your hair.  But in today’s society we are forced into thinking that we need to.  Really.  There are many people out there that do not wash their hair at all.  They just rinse it with water daily to clear out the grunge and leave it at that.  The natural oils on the scalp (I just typed “scallop” which means I still have hairballs on the mind) are all your hair really needs to stay healthy and soft.  In fact, unless the person is also not rinsing and taking care of their hair, you would never know.  Kind of like little old blue hairs only get their hair done once every week or two?  Because they know what’s going on.  They know they don’t need to wash their hair everyday.  People who do not shampoo their hair at all have soft, shiny, beautiful hair.  And no, it doesn’t stink.  It just smells like hair.

Number Two-those of you who use such products as Pantene, Garnier, Tresseme, and Aussie are doing nothing more than stripping out the natural oils and replacing them with waxes meant to coat the hair shaft and give the illusion of strong, healthy, shiny hair in good condition.  In reality, the oils are there to protect your hair and your scalp (I just did it again!).  Stripping the oils away makes way for dandruff, alopecia, and broken/torn hair stands that lead to split ends.  And the wax that the conditioners deposit on your hair can build up over time and actually snap your hair off. 

Number Three-many companies that make the products you see still test on animals.  There is actually  no need for this anymore seeing as most every ingredient has previously been tested.  So what does that tell you?  You are using NEW MAN-MADE ingredients on yourself.  This is why they come with a little thing about allergies.  And if they don’t, then they should.  And just so you know, even salon products are tested on animals (not all, but some…like Matrix products). 

Number Four-speaking of the ingredients, synthetic ingredients are still as bad as a lime green polyester suit.

Number Five-for those of you that use a shampoo/conditioner combo, such as Head and Shoulders, ask yourself:  where does the cleansing start and stop and where does the conditioning start and stop?  Yeah, you can’t answer that, huh?

Anyway, this is just the beginning.  I will have more for you.  But just so you know:  Nature’s Gate does not use animal by-products nor do they do animal testing.  The ph of their shampoos and conditioners is between 3.4 and 6.5, most falling between 3.4 and 5, which is ideal.  Except for their clarifying line, which is higher, but most clarifying shampoos are.  The clarify.  As in, strip away everything, including medications and chlorine.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled reading.

Another Reason I Love Jenny the Bloggess

I love Jenny the Bloggess and all of the insanity that ensues on her website(s).  Finding this little gem just made my day. 

Thank you, Jenny.  Thank you.

Furbabies…and a kid

So Brett and I went to his parents lake house for the weekend.  I believe I mentioned that in my previous post.  And I believe I may have promised pictures.  So, here they are!  Just kinda follow along as best you can because, well, I only put up the cutest ones.  I think!

 

Scampi is excited about going on a car trip. 

 

See the excitement on their faces?  Ok, Scampi looks a slight bored, but Sadie is all for this!  

Just some pictures taken during sunset…it was a full moon that night…

 

Scampi and Sadie running around at the lake.

 

Brett’s niece (I guess I should say my niece), Sydney getting ready for the jet ski (and standing up on the jet ski…Brett’s dad was driving it…gotta love how she sticks her butt in his face to stand up!).

 

She reminded me of a rave kid, what with the goggles on her head and the green popsicle looking like a glow stick!

 

On Brett’s brothers motorbike (sigh, fine, motorcycle).

 

The boat ride!

 

Dinner at the restaurant.

 

THE MULLETS!  Sorry for the blurry picture, but they knew I was taking pictures of them (I think).  The second one isn’t as bright, but you can see the mullets in all the grandeur.

 

She’s gonna blow! 

Da moon.

 

A car door on a post.

 

Wayne Street Tattoo.  My friend, Melanie?  Her husband, Thomas,  draws on people here.

 

Sadie looks totally thrilled for the ride back home.

 

This dood not only had a mullet, but he had a greasy mullet!

 

Cows.  It’s a fascination.  

The prettiest nosticles ever!

 

By the way, I take Scallop the useless cat everywhere on vacay, also.  This is her claw coming out of her crate.  She really didn’t want to be in the crate.

 

So there you go!  I knew you were totally waiting on pins and needles to see these!  Speaking of, I am going to go sew now!

Another Labor Day Weekend Come and Gone

So it was another Federal holiday.  Brett and I went down to his parent's lake house, which is where I have been for the past several days.  We left Friday and got back yesterday, but I have been too tired and too busy to post anything.

In fact, I will not be posting pictures until tomorrow!  Because I am too lazy right now.

Yesterday was my birthday.  Yay.  Another birthday.  Another year older.  Woopee.

I did sew another apron yesterday, which I will post pictures of tomorrow.  And we finally got the ugly couch out of the living room and out into the parking lot.  We were couch moving ninjas last night, trying to do it in the middle of the night so that the neighbors wouldn't see and know who put the big ugly thing out by the compactor.  Not that we aren't allowed to, but it I just feel bad taking a really ugly, Goodwill purchased, heavy as hell (because it has a pull out bed) couch out and leaving it for the maintanence guys to figure out how to get rid of it.  Best case scenerio is that someone saw it and ran out and decided to give it a new home.  Hopefully.

Anyhoo, after that we spent a good deal of time moving furniture and cleaning and whatnot.  And this morning we started up again.  Right now we are both perched on the couch we still have with our laptops, he playing WoW and I typing this!

But now I am going to get off of here.  I have some TV to watch!

TMI Thursday presents: I Could Have Had A Famous Stepdaddy (Had He Not Been Married Already, That Is)

Just like Schoolmarm Lilu likes to suggest:

 ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!***

Ok, this isn't a gross TMI about vomit or poo or anything like that.  This is the story about how I could have had a famous stepdaddy!  Well, not really, because the celebrity in question has been married to the same woman since 1950, but the story is humorous.  I really wish I could find what I did with the second photo, but after you read the story you will see a photo explaining who it is and whatnot.  So yeah.

I'm gonna begin this by asking you a question:  do you ever feel that there are some things that your parents say, or stories they tell, that you just really don't want to know about?  But when they don't tell you you wonder and then you just get really creeped out?  Well, this is one of those stories.  It is told by my mother.  And, because if you read this then you already know what kind of storyteller she is.  You will be saying, "tell me more!" but I think this is more than enough.

So, submitted for your enjoyment, TMI Thursday presents:  I Could Have Had A Famous Stepdaddy (Had He Not Been Married Already, That Is) *notice how I make her story Comic Sans, also!: 

So, you want to know the story behind the photo of me and a celebrity so very long ago . . . so be it! I won't tell you the whole story because . . . "you know!" Well, so there was a photo shoot where I worked for the government, and my boss (the colonel) was going to be out of town that day. He said to me before he left, "Gin, BE GOOD while he's here." So, I was way beyond knowing what he meant, but I knew I'd be good no matter what! So, here is the photo shoot going on, and I was being good just working and ignoring the fact that everyone else in the building and hangar were weighting the building to tilt to one side while I, as the lightweight, was working hard at my desk on the other end of the building. Well! So, somehow the folks I work with figured I was the one to approach to get autographs from the celebrity, so I tried to accommodate them. The celebrity was still in the cockpit when I went down to the tarmac with a pad of paper with various names at the tops of various pages. The guy who was sitting on the tailgate of the station wagon seemed to be somewhat in charge, so I approached him . . . pointing at the many faces plastered to the windows of my building. He told me to sit with him and that the celebrity would give me the autographs. Funny, I didn't have a page for me! Oh,well! It didn't occur to me. Anyway, the celebrity finally descended the stairs from the cockpit and said, "I want a fucking cigarette." I jumped down from the tailgate and said, "You can't smoke on the tarmac." I led him into the hangar area where there was an ashtray on the wall just inside the door. So, then, an airplane maintenance guy came out with a camera to take a photo. I told the celebrity about what my boss had said about being "good" while he was there and would he like to sit in my bosses chair. So, the 3 of us went upstairs where I found myself sitting on the celebrity's lap with the maintenance guy taking a photo. I was saying to the cameraman, "Make sure Col. So-and-So gets a shot of this." Well, the other photo is my being kissed by the celebrity. So . . . he asked me to meet him later at the Officer's Club. I called my friend, a female noncom, and asked if she wanted his cigarette that he'd put out in the ashtray on my desk. She did, so I wrapped it up in a Kleenex. She went with me to meet this guy at the Officer's Club, but she was SCARED because she was noncom.  So, I went there with my noncom friend, who left before I did, from the dinner we had, after I danced with the celebrity and he treated me to Black Russians! . . . Oh, WAIT, I introduced him to my Col. who said to him as he shook his hand . . . "I understand you sat in my plane . . . I understand you sat in my office . . . I understand that my secretary sat on your lap . . . I want to know how you did it!" Well, wish I had men wanting me to sit on their laps now . . . oh well. I won't tell any more stories about what happened after that little bit of info I've given . . .it was quite interesting, though. Ah, the good memories . . . ah . . . so, well here we are in the present . . . wish I were so beguiling now! Maybe someday I'll tell you "the rest of the story," Stephanie. Hold your breath! I'm not sure you can take it! It was, oh, never mind!

 

My Mother with Peter Graves circa 1981

So, there you go.  It was Peter Graves.  Yes, the colonel from 7th Heaven and such films as Airplane! and Airplane II: The Sequel.  Yeah, that Peter Graves.  I really, really wish I could find the kissing picture, but I don't know what I possible could have done with it.  It's probably in my closet somewhere.  

I promise to give you more of a TMI next Thursday!

A Wednesday of Pictures

I wanted to make this apron: 

So I bought this fabric:

And then for the first time ever I used a sewing machine!  And I didn’t mess up too badly (except for the pockets…those didn’t turn out too well).  And Brett was nice enough to model it for the camera (ignore the mess in the dining room…that is where I cut and pinned and sewed):

I also painted another card for my nephew.  It took about three times drawing out the rifles before I was happy with them.  And my hand was in pain by the time I got done with the lettering.  And then I decided to do camouflage on the lettering and I liked it so much I went over the ink I used on the rifles with some watercolor and painted the rifles in camouflage.  I also gold leafed them, but that picture looks so horrible I wasn’t going to share it!: 

And just in case you didn’t know, I am a chronic picture taker.  I take a ton of pictures everyday, even if it’s just pictures of the dogs and cat…or the back of cars when I am sitting in traffic. 

Gotta love this doods fashionable orthopedic socks:

And Scallop is hiding in a box.  You can’t see her:

All of the pictures above were taken on my cell phone.

These last two were taken on an actual camera!  Yeah, you see how I worked that?

So lastly, a hungry squirrel had found some breakfast:

 

When suddenly he is interrupted by the clicking of a camera (I think he sees me!):

 

But I suppose he is used to the paparazzi snapping his picture all the time while he is doing everyday normal squirrel stuff:

 

See ya tomorrow!