Even more snow pictures...

What can I say? I LOVE snow & I have a very photogenic dog who takes direction wonderfully. It snowed for about an hour on Sunday - big, fat, fluffy, flakes that made you want to try and catch them on your tongue. I couldn't resist. So I went out & played & then uploaded some more pictures to my Flickr account.

Life's but a walking shadow...

I resisted as long as I could.
It called to me.
There's no other explanation as to why I knew it was out there
- cold, snow dusted, untrod -
waiting for me.
Waiting for the press of my feet.
Straining for the sound of my crossing.
The sky so grey that no shadow would betray my passing.







"...a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more."
~macbeth

2009 - Could Have Been Worse...

if there had been zombies. Work sucked, Geek & I split for good, work sucked some more, then my cat died. There you have it - the Year of your Lord, MMIX.

There's a full moon tonight, the second of the month - a Blue Moon, on New Year's Eve. It's an opportunity you may not see again. Take it. Do something you wouldn't otherwise do.

As you pass through the doorway from 2009 to 2010 may Janus smile on you from both sides.

May not be good, but at least it's something...

Working a lot, dancing a lot, yoga a lot, boyfriend a lot, writing a little.

A Cold November Rain

Guns N Roses did not ruin it for me

It still feels like the first drops of water to ever fall from the sky

cold clear crystalline

I press myself against the house
The gutter keeps the unswerving drops
from striking me

Yet still they call out as they fall

And those caught on my bare skin
answer with sharp excited cries of their own.

southern martyr 11-17-09

And here's a little something twitter length:

the mountains slept all day today with blankets tucked firmly beneath their chins

southern martyr 11-18-09

well hell... it's poetry?

Okay, so I said I was going to be a little better about writing. However, I can't seem to find two minutes to sit down and frame my thoughts into any sort of order. That's where poetry has always come in for me. It lets me jot down something (real or imagined) in the moment. Without any conscious effort. Sometimes that means my poetry isn't that great... But it exists, great or slapdash or just plain bad, it's there - a moment or a thought pressed between the pages of my life so that I can go back and remember it later. Here's two that I dashed off during the last few weeks and haven't done anything with. I think that because of how busy my work life has been lately I'm slipping into almost a faux haiku style. At the moment that is how I hear things in my head - short clipped and almost sing song. Maybe I'm going slightly mad...

Untitled

You make me nervous.
I think you lie sometimes,
because sometimes I do too.
And yet, your lies are so much better than mine.

southern martyr 10-09


It Just Ain't Right...

Wrong day wrong week
wrong month wrong year

Wrong man wrong love
wrong hope wrong fear

southern martyr 10-09

Well folks, that's all I got today. At least it's something...

Limbo...

I know I haven't been posting in a really long time. That's because I've been lost. That's not always a bad thing. There have been a few times in my relatively short life when I was scared at being lost & alone. However, most times, I find it exhilarating. This has been one of my longer, rougher, stumbles through the woods, but I saw things I never would have noticed otherwise.

I spent several months (years?) walking along, putting one foot in front of the other. It was a rather enjoyable stroll. Then, this spring, I looked up for the first time in a very long time to see where I was... and realized I was lost. It's funny how everything is perfectly okay right up until the moment your mind registers that you don't know where you are. One minute you're ambling along between points A & B, and the next you're "lost" and disoriented and slightly panicked.

My favorite thing about being lost? The fact that it is the best opportunity you will ever have to change your mind about where you want to go and which path (if any) you want to take to get there. I changed course and decided to plunge into the underbrush and see where I popped out.

And here I am.

Not sure where "here" is exactly. I think I'm someplace on the road between Heartbreak and Salvation. I've decided to leave the road again and just strike out through woods til I find a deer trail or an old logging road and see where it leads. I'm going to try and do more writing and try keep this online journal updated a little more often - whenever I take a break from my little adventure.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to 2009...

I have a "friend" going through a very tough time right now. They were very supportive of me when I was going through a very tough time. So I spent the evening talking to them and being supportive. I had called My Geek earlier in the evening to inform him of said supportive tough time talk. Geek is aware of said tough time and is also supportive though not as close to the friend and does not talk.

My Geek has a bit of a tough time this time of year also. I have a tough time this time of year. My mother has a tough time this time of year. And on December 29, 2008 they all intersected in a truly spectacular way.

My Geek had spent the entire evening working in the out of doors restoring the Interwebs to us by endlessly adjusting the routers which transfer a wireless internet signal between three houses and through the deep, dark, & panic inducing woods to our house. He did not check his voicemail to hear my explanation of the aforementioned tough time talk. He instead stumbled up through the woods to find a large truck idling in his driveway at 9:30pm. He proceeds to call me in a slight panic.

I, being a good and decent friend, have turned off my cell phone so as not to belittle nor interrupt aforementioned tough time talk. My Geek, who has a tough time this time of year, has been having nightmares recently. My Geek should not go without sleep, due to yet other more recent tough times. This along with prolonged physical exertion, probably a little low blood sugar, a dark and creepy wood, a monster truck idling in his driveway, his girlfriend nowhere to be found, not answering her phone AND a little extra emotional tough time of the year baggage thrown in for good measure and he proceeds to stalk through the woods panicked, calling & text messaging me for the next 20-30 minutes.

I, being a good and decent friend, am completely unaware of any of this. My friend finally assures me that he will be okay. I return satisfied of being a good and decent friend to my home only to find it empty. I pull out my phone to call MY Geek and see a voicemail notification. I check my voicemail. It sounds like something from The Blair Witch Project. It's My Geek out of breath, twigs snapping underfoot, asking where I am and what's wrong and what's that truck?! and then the message just cuts off mid sentence. I call him. He's out of breath. He's in the woods. He's mad. It is now 10pm. He hangs up on me.

I wander out of doors to meet him at the top of the trail and try to smooth things out or maybe start a fight. (Sometimes I try not to overthink these things and just go with what feels right in the moment, you know.) I reach the trail, in the dark, and am startled by what I think to be My Geek. However, this figure, though as tall as My Geek, is not agitated as My Geek would have been. This figure, I soon realize, is My Mother. We raise our arms in mutual bewilderment, like two mimes. My Geek stomps up the trail, passes between the two of us (still in prolonged shrugs like two sarcastic Greek statues), and then proceeds to stomp into the house and turn off all the lights.

My Mother turns to me, hugs me, hugs me again, hugs me a third time while slightly rocking me back & forth, and then announces at the top of her lungs...

"Happy Festivus!"

Indeed.


*All is well now. And I thank my lucky stars for my Geek, my friends (all five or six of you) and my family. I hope 2009 brings us all the best - and when it doesn't I'll remember why I love you all so much! Thank you all.

I'm magic!

I disappeared for 2 months!
I'm back. I'm still working harder and longer than I would like, but I have made a few decisions about how I am going to spend my time.

I have decided that if my BigStupidHero can work like a maniac and still have time to write a little, rant a little, and stay in touch with his friends via the IntraWeb ~ then so can I!

My Faerie godbaby, Puppy, is doing wonderfully disgusting things. His mother, MyBestestFriend, has a new blog, but I don't know if I'm allowed to link to it. I'll have to ask permission first ~ after all she's a MOM now so you ALWAYS have to ask permission first. I'm going to have to start taking the camera over when I visit. I'm pretty sure I can get some really interesting abstract art out of that little critter. By the way, I have decided that sitting and holding Puppy is really relaxing and fun. It's like playing with a kitten ~ a drooling, farting, hairless kitten with poor motor skills.

Myself, MyBigStupidHero, and three other friends went camping last weekend. We had fun. The lake was a little on the chill side, but a rousing game of "gently toss the nerf ball" kept the blood pumping enough to prevent hypothermia. It's been a while since I've actually had to sleep in a sleeping bag on the ground and that was not something I missed. I got smoke in my eyes pretty good while trying to start the fire. Couldn't light the damned brand new cook stove. And two (TWO!) of my fake "vegetarian" hotdogs fell into the fire. But there was great conversation, truly inappropriate humour, lots of food, and campsite neighbors whose only flaw was keeping a radio going all night just faintly enough that you kept trying to figure out what song was playing. I did not take this picture of our campsite, it was simply emailed to me after I returned home. I think Big Foot has a digital camera.

Bippity-boppity-booyah!

I'm a Faerie godmother!
My bestestfriend in the whole wide world gave birth to her life long burden Friday morning. He was a big baby-8lbs 11oz. Which means I won the bet and not only will I NOT be changing shitty diapers on our first Mall Crawl together, but I'll also be getting a fabulous prize (that DOESN'T come wrapped in a diaper)! I am so glad that everyone seems to be unscathed by the whole horrifying experience. I have crocheted a blanket, made a draft blocker for the scary closet door, tie dyed onesies & receiving blankets, made a sage smudge stick, fixed up a "Welcome Home" basket for the mommy which includes the first 2 seasons of Perfect Strangers, and found the perfect little buddha for Puppy's room.

I'm busy as hell at work, but I am soooo looking forward to being able to stop by and see the little gross bundle of poop after work. It will be so nice to watch him & play with him and then still be able to go home at the end of the night and have sex and drink and curse and then sleep late the next morning without any real worries. Yippeee! It's not my kid!

How long will I continue to talk about my birthday?

With the truly wonderful way everyone treated me this past year (All year long, not just my birthday!) probably til next year.

I know I've said before how much I love having a Geek for a lover. (By the way, I have decided that 32 is too old to be calling the man that I have lived with for the past 7 or 8 years my "boyfriend.") This year for my birthday he proved, yet again, why I fell for him in the first place.

He came home late from work the night of my birthday carrying a balloon, (the 12 yr old who lives inside my head LOVES balloons!) a stuffed pony, (Again, the 12 yr old.) a bouquet of some of the sweetest smelling roses I ever had the pleasure to receive, the complete first season of Sex and the City, AND a set of paper party hats for our pets/children! Here's a breakdown of why these things he brought me mean so much to me:

A) Balloon: I just generally think it's cute when grown men carry them around. Not so much clowns or balloon salesmen, but a man dressed in a suit or work clothes carrying a single balloon just makes me giggle.

B) Stuffed pony: A little background is required here - I am a VERY tactile person. My Geek knows this and tends to spend an exorbitant amount of time (sometimes so much time he fears he might be asked to leave the store) searching through shelves of stuffed animals (Kinda like some sort of Mr. Whipple character) looking for the perfect soft - but not too soft, cute - but not too cutesy, one. Preferably with those little "bean bag" weighted feet. And his choice of a pony was fabulous.


C) Roses: Roses are not my favorite flower. One of my favorites? Yes. The thing is I like roses that REALLY smell like roses! Most times you find that store (Grocery or Wal-Mart) roses almost don't even have a smell or flower shop roses have that fake rose smell that you're pretty sure someone must have sprayed on. The thing that endears my Geek's choices of flowers to me most is the fact he has almost NO sense of smell. Therefore to find roses, or any flower, that smells the way he knows I like them he stands around sniffing bouquet after bouquet until something finally gets through to him. He proudly announced of my Birthday Roses - "I knew if I could smell them then they must be wonderful!"

D) Sex and the City: My Geek not only bought it for me, he actually enjoys sitting down and watching it with me. He actually shares laughs with me about how much certain characters remind us of certain people (even though there have been a few times we've had those uncomfortable moments where something hits a little close to home, but even those are funny.) How many men do you know that will actually share something that girly with you and NOT complain? Not many, I dare say, not damn many.

E) Paper Party Hats: Ok, not the best thing in the world normally, BUT when you get them to put on your pets it's absofuckinglutely hilarious! I love this man!

Now for the pictures you've ALL been waiting for!

The Legal Drinking Age for a Daddy's Girl?

32! P.S. If you can see the dog in this picture have another beer!

I should have posted this MUCH earlier, but work & such really has kept me completely consumed. I realized this year how much I really have to be thankful for. All (8) of my friends called me to wish me Happy Birthday. Four of them sang. Mypregnantbestfriend made me a birthday cake. (Pictures of the edible delight will be posted as soon as I get them from said best friend.) My Daddy & my Mom both gave me great presents. The beer was from Daddy. It was fabulous! I took it home that evening and ate Archway Iced Oatmeal Cookies, drank some of my Birthday Beer and watched some Little House on the Prairie. I cried. Both because I was happy and because I was sad. It was good.

Carnations & Roses

Carnations and Roses

Pink like my Toeses

southern martyr 02-14-08

My geek is wonderful - as only a geek can be. Happy Valentine's Day to all my nearest and dearest! I love you all. Especially MyPregnantBestFriend (and puppy) and MyBigStupidHero, friends make an unbearable world bearable - Thank you.

Sometimes I Worry...

I don't talk about my family very much here at Southern Martyr. Partly because I don't think anything short of a Tennessee Williams-esque 2,000 page novel bound in the hand cured hide of one of my father's prize heifers (dead from natural causes, of course) could possibly begin to do my family justice. And then my Pregnant Best Friend forwards me brief a news story from Britain and I realize that I am not alone. There are others out there who will grow up cringing and laughing in equal parts to tell their own stories. One day I will meet one of them and we will sit and talk about how our parents were such wonderful, creative, loving, friendly, intelligent, free spirits who were merely misunderstood when discovered to be building that tree house with retractable ladder and pulley system/secret mock castle with cannon/basement mad scientist laboratory/full size tee pee made from old tent material/doors to nowhere.

I worry that a link to this article will eventually disappear leaving no reminder of this news story which made me think immediately of my own family life (not exactly the same, but similar enough in some ways to make me worry - just a little), so I copied and pasted the article verbatim:

Farmer hides castle from building inspectors
By Peter Apps Fri Jan 25, 7:45 AM ET

LONDON (Reuters) - A farmer built an entire mock castle behind a screen of hay bales and lived there concealed for four years to evade planning regulations, officials said on Friday -- but it may be torn down anyway.

Robert Fidler hopes to take advantage of a provision of planning law that allows buildings without planning permission to be declared legal if no objections have been made after four years.

But Reigate and Banstead Borough Council in Surrey is not impressed.

"It does not count because the property was hidden behind hay bales," said a spokeswoman. "No one knew it was there."

The council wants the building near Redhill some 30 km south of London to be demolished, along with an associated conservatory, marquee structure, wooden bridge, patio, decking and tarmac racecourse.

"It looks like a mock-Tudor house from the front and it's got two turrets at the back," the spokeswoman said. "I understand there is also a cannon."

The couple would have been unlikely to get planning permission as the farm was in "green belt" land where building was restricted, she said. A hearing takes place in February.

Fidler's wife Linda told the Daily Mail newspaper the children grew up looking at straw out of the windows of the house and that they kept their son away from playschool on the day his class were due to do paintings of their houses.

"We couldn't have him drawing a big blue haystack," she said. "People might ask questions."

Planning inspectors had been called to the site by concerned neighbours shortly before Fidler took the hay bales down in summer 2006 but had not seen the house.

"When the inspectors went there, all they saw was hay bales and hay bales on agricultural land are not that unusual," the spokeswoman said.

"I think the neighbours thought there might be something going on but it is difficult to tell, isn't it?"

(Editing by Steve Addison)

I'd been in the middle of writing another post when Pregnant Best Friend emailed me this story and I HAD to post it straightway. This has inspired me to do a little writing. I hope that my father doesn't read this and get any ideas.

Actually, I take that back. I've wanted my very own stone tower in the woods for a very long time...

Bubbles of Joy

Mybestfriend is pregnant. I am so happy for her. She tried long and hard (haha) to get that way. Last night she called me to tell me that she felt the baby for the first time. She described it as "bubbles on your skin, but inside." She's sure it wasn't gas, she has become a certified Gas Expert recently. She was so giddy.

I enjoy being able to share this stuff with her. It's so fun. I was worried there for a little while (2.7 seconds, to be exact) that because I NEVER have wanted, currently do NOT want, and can NOT foresee wanting in the future a baby of my own, that one of two things would happen: A) I would suddenly desperately want a baby. B) Because I DIDN'T want a baby we would drift apart during what is probably the most interesting part of her life. Thankfully, neither has happened! She says my biological clock goes Vroom! Vroom! instead of Tick! Tock! (I ended up wanting a 2005 Mustang, desperately). AND, I think I was the first person she called when she felt the baby last night. Now that may not be a big deal to some people, but it meant the world to me. She has continued to put up with my good natured mockery and my baby cooty phobia when normal people would have turned their back on me and started knitting baby booties with their happily married parent friends. Thank the gods for friends that you can live vicariously through!

Ya Think?!

MyBigStupidHero gave me an award yesterday! You know, I haven't gotten an award since Hiwassee College when my Social(ist) Studies professor gave me the "Walks to the Beat of Their Own Drummer" award. It was an award he made up probably because I was the only person in his class who understood that to debate an issue you didn't have to actually be willing to die for the side you were advocating. The ironic thing about receiving the "Walks to the Beat of Their Own Drummer" award: I tripped walking off the stage.

I think this "Little Nutty" award is my favorite award ever! It might even rank above the first place Poetry ribbon I won at Roane State my Junior year of highschool. "Why does this particular award make me so happy?" you ask? Because when someone with a screw loose awards you as being "A Little Nutty" then the Nuttyness factor is increased exponentially!

I am tagging my BestestFriendInTheWholeWideWorld with this Nutastic award! Pregnancy is making her crazier by the day.

New Things

I have added a couple of new links to the decor. I never take change lightly (I am Southern after all) so the two links I added this morning are very intergral pieces of my life that I am very glad to be able to share with complete strangers.

The first new link will take the unwitting traveler to the blog home of my bestest friend in the whole wide world. There are a million reasons why she is my best friend and there were a million reasons why it has taken her this long to allow me to link to her. Almost all of those reasons are deeply embarrassing to someone... However, after months of anonymity she has agreed to come out of the shadows and be seen by the unwashed masses that devour my every word. I attribute this change to her getting knocked up recently. Apparently pregnancy has the same effects on her judgement as drinking. Go check her out - she's already putting her hands on peoples arms when she talks to them and saying things like "I'm sorry" & "I love you." By the end of the next trimester she'll be starting fights and dancing on the table...

The second link I added will transport you to quiet possibly the funniest comic ever. I think I find it so heartrendingly funny because it seems to me to be the doodles in the margins of the script of my life. So funny, so true, and you don't always understand them - but you always know someone who would. There are days when this comic makes me laugh so hard I have to call someone and tell them how much I appreciate having them in my life.

My friends won't leave me alone!

Blog meme - Fifty questions.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
“Gonna have to wear barrettes today…”

2. How much cash do you have on you?
$18 and lots of dimes for some reason.

3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?
Roar.

4. Favorite planet?
Pluto. And there’s not a damn thing some smug, son of a bitch, scientist can do to change it!

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Mom.

6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
The one that sounds like an old rotary dial phone ringing. I can’t be bothered to have any of them new fangled music ringtones that those young whippersnappers use.

7. What shirt are you wearing?
Pink long sleeved blouse with vivid red, pink, blue, yellow, and green flowers embroidered on it.

8. Do you label yourself?
Probably, but not consciously. Do warning labels count?

9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?
American Eagle.

10. Bright or Dark Room?
Dark. Pitch Black if possible.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
Diane is my best friend. I think she’s smart and brave and funny and has “issues.” One of those issues is a problem displaying or coping with deep emotion. “I love you Diane!” hahahahaha. Take that, bitch!

12. What does your watch look like?
What watch? What, do I have to be somewhere? Why are you always trying to “confine” me? Leave me alone!

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sleeping quietly with my cat Jack.

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
Night. I love you.

15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
ACTUAL 7-11? I think there’s one in Athens. We have a “corner store” (BP) in Riceville less than a mile from my house.

16. What's a word that you say a lot?
"Seriously” is MY word. My best friend answered this question with “Seriously,” but it’s MY word. It has been since High School. Seriously.

17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My Hal.

18. Last furry thing you touched?
My kitty, Jack. I love him. We played tag under the closet door this morning while I was getting ready for work.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
None. Unless you count caffeine or hard liquor. In which case, I have had as follows: Two cups of coffee every morning, four cups of coffee at the board meeting Tues, and a shot(s) of SoCo the other night with some chocolate and a good book.

20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?
None. My Hal has a digital camera. We do have a ton of photos to get off memory sticks though.

21. Favorite age you have been so far?
Twenty-three.

22. Your worst enemy?
Real or imaginary? Just kidding. It’s my ex-husband.

23. What is your current desktop picture?
My black, long haired, Cycloptic kitty, Jack.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
”I’d do that for a hundred dollars.”

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
A million bucks. There’s lots of stuff I CAN do and no time to enjoy it. A million bucks would go a long way towards enabling me to have the free time to enjoy the skills and dreams I have already.

26. Do you like someone?
Yes. Let’s see… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… hmm, 6 seems to be the limit of people I don't hate at the moment.

27. The last song you listened to?
”Lebanese Blonde” by Thievery Corporation.

28. What time of day were you born?
3:15pm

29. What’s your favorite number?
Seven.

30. Where did you live in 1987?
In Riceville, in the first house my father ever built. I had a door to Nowhere in my room. I was 11 years old.

31. Are you jealous of anyone?
I don’t think so. Diane would be the only person that might occasionally instill jealousy in me. As long as you can live vicariously through your friends the jealousy never seems to last but a moment... She may end up with a beautiful little baby, but the fact that I won’t have to shoot something bigger than a breadbox out of my body also serves to reassure me that I’m not missing out. I don’t see it as jealousy; I see it as forced perspective.

32. Is anyone jealous of you?
I don’t think so. Diane might be in about 71/2 months… and then again in about 13 years.

33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
I was in my truck driving to work when I heard.

34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse it, literally. You might not want to use the one outside the food court at Hamilton Place.

35. Do you consider yourself kind?
Yes. I am soft hearted, yet I hate people. When I’m kind to you (and I will be…very) I’m actually testing the phrase “kill them with kindness.” I have a theory about it being a culminative effect…

36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?
The small of my back.

37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
French. If this is just wishful thinking, then I would really like to learn Hindi but considering I can barely read French (and I took that class for 3 years) it will probably just stay wishful thinking…

38. Would you move for the person you loved?
Eh. Maybe. I’m melodramatic. I would probably just let them leave and then wither away from a broken heart.

39. Are you touchy feely?
Yes. Especially if I’m drunk or happy.

40. What’s your life motto?
When a dog runs at you, whistle for him – Henry David Thoreau

41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?
My silver Buddha charm, my cat ear cuff, and the memory of my dead brother.

42. What’s your favorite town/city?
The city of Agra in India. It is home to the Taj Mahal (the largest erection ever inspired by a woman).

43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?
Sparkly colored bindis so I could play dress up with my friend Crystal’s little girl, Emily.

44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
Last year.

45. Can you change the oil on a car?
Yes. I can also hot wire a car, start a car that has a bad solenoid by shorting it out with a screwdriver, and I have been known to be able to jimmy the lock on my truck in under 1 minute.

46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
Bipolar-Born Again Christian-homeless-alcoholic. Pretty sure most of that is my fault (especially since I cursed him). Well, all except the Bipolar part, that’s the reason he was my FIRST not my last. Amendment: Part of the credit/fault should go to a friend of mine. (she gets her nose out of joint if you don't acknowledge her help) Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Catholic virgin to help you perform a hex?

47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?
I had a great uncle who did all that stuff all the way back to my Scotch-German ancestors who came over and fought in the Revolutionary War. To be quiet honest, I’m not having any children so I figure that a vague knowledge plus the family rumors I’ve gleaned over the years will be all I really want to know.

48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?
Last week for my Best Friend’s hoity toity fund raiser at the Museum.

49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?
The arches of my feet ache a little from bellydance class.

50. Have you been burned by love?
Yes. By love, for love, same difference.

My friends ARE more important than my work - REALLY.

Quite a while ago I was tagged with a request to tell a little something about a good friend of mine on his blog. Now, I've been REALLY crazily busy at work and the holidays make my head implode, so I was really ashamed that I did not even realize I had been tagged until this past Monday (nigh on a two weeks since I was originally tagged). This friend was none other than MyBigStupidHero. I posted my brief bit of intimate information in the comments of his post, however I have since been riddled with guilt at the fact that the piddly ass every day crap in my life had reduced me to ignoring my friends' ramblings. I have spent the last little bit of my lunch poking around the interweb catching up with my friend's lives. I am making myself get off my ass and spend some time with them also. Tonight I am going over to my friend Crystal's house and playing dress up with her 3 1/2 year old - Emily. I even bought sparkly little bindis for her to wear since she liked mine so much the last time we were out. ANYWAY... the point of this long diatribe is that I've let my life eclipse MY LIFE. And I'm done. No more!

I am including in this post my observations on MyBigStupidHero as well as two of my favorite memories of him. Here they are - Nothing fancy, just me recalling somethings that still make me smile and/or cringe:

Observations on my friend Big Stupid Tommy:

Tommy IS a giant.
Should it ever come down to Tommy in his underwear throwing boulders from a hilltop versus villagers with torches and pitchforks Tommy would win. Hands down. Every time.

Tommy is NOT stupid.
Tommy is probably the smartest man I know.
He is intelligent, well read, and a joy to talk with.

Now for some quirks which always make me smile:
Upon being handed a book Tommy will open it up and smell it.
Tommy HATES red licorice.
Tommy dives into water like a grizzly bear.
Tommy performs a very nice underwater handstand.
Tommy has slept sitting upright in a chair.
Tommy does not use straws.
Tommy’s kill command is “Fennel.”
Tommy will tolerate Diane and myself when anyone else would run away screaming with bleeding ear drums or collapse into a catatonic stupor.
And though this will undoubtedly embarrass him… I have always thought that with his kind heart, wonderful wit, boundless loyalty, and quiet demeanor he has an air of the romantic hero about him.

My friend Tommy.
I took way too long to find out I’d been tagged with this request to share a little of my insight into the Big Stupid which is Tommy. I apologize for the delay. I will attempt to make amends by sharing things that others may not know about our mutual friend. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting the Tommy in person let me say Big Stupid Tommy is an impressive man. He stands well over 6’ tall and is a very reassuring presence to have on your side in dark alleys or impromptu wrestling matches. I would like to share two stories to illustrate this fact and illuminate a little of the personality which is Big Stupid Tommy:

One time, long ago on a very drunken night at a Con in Atlanta (I don’t remember which one) our good friend Tommy had paid for the hotel room with his credit card and then we had all pitched in cash to repay him. Sometime during the evening it came to our attention from the front desk that our room had to pay a very small amount either to make a phone call or to pay for a call or something… Anyway, Thomas explains politely over the phone that they have his credit card information on file, just add this expense to the bill. The dumbass at the front desk says “We can’t do that.” Thomas tries gallantly to explain the concept of room billing and the magical properties of credit cards, but alas the front desk insists that cash in an amount of less than $3.00 is required of our Big Stupid friend. Thomas then proceeds to gather the exact amount required in the form of loose change procured from the various inhabitants of our room. Our esteemed friend then pours all the change into a sock (yes my friends - a sock, which may or may not have been clean) and ventures down to the front desk to pay his fee. I, of course am dying to see what happens and request to go with him. He, being ever the gentleman, allows me to accompany him, even though I am thoroughly intoxicated and a bit of a hindrance at this point. We arrive at the front desk and to my delight Thomas dumps the change out of the mens sports sock and onto the counter in front of the stunned clerk. I was too delighted by this in my inebriated state to notice all the nuances that occurred, but I do remember the look of embarrassed horror and slight fear on the desk clerk. I believe there had to be another clerk brought from the backroom and it seems to my memory that Tommy loomed over the counter until they had counted every last smelly penny and nickel. He then turned and regally departed for the elevator. I am loving every moment of this spectacle to the point I believe I even bounced up and down and clapped my hands (I am known to do this when drunk) However, when the elevator reaches our floor and the doors swing open they reveal to my utter horror that we are BETWEEN floors! Now it wasn’t like the hallway floor was beyond our reach or that we could see duct work and wiring, but there was distinctly a large amount of space that one should NOT be able to see when one arrives at their floor. I froze. I was terrified. Every movie I’ve ever seen that involved elevators flashed through my drunken mind. I turn stuttering to my Big Stupid Hero. He doesn’t not let me down. He simply says “Yeah, I know. That’s weird, let’s just get out.” I’m not sure, but I think I made him hold my hand as I stepped UP into the hotel hallway. Now granted, I was drunk, and I am me, so things seem more drastic than they are sometimes, but that is one of the many times I have been thankful to have Thomas as my friend, by my side.

Now for the flip side of having Big Stupid Tommy as a personal friend:

Once, long ago, on a summer afternoon at my place of employment our hero Thomas was busy doing some freelance work (I think he was helping me clean out the storage room - for a fee) Now on this particular day there were two small kittens running amuck in our office. (Don’t ask. It’s enough to know that there were two small kittens.) We turned our backs for a few minutes and found that one of the little furballs had squeezed back behind the large metal heat and air contraption in the corner of the room. I could see it. I could touch it with my fingertips. I went to pull the little booger out and realized to my sickening horror that my arm was stuck. Now, you have to realize this all happened very quickly… My arm is pinned behind a huge piece of metal work. I am sitting crouched on the floor panicking. I look up and see my Big Stupid Hero standing over me looking quizzical. I reach my arm out towards him and say “Help me! I’m stuck!” Then in a flash I see Thomas as a looming giant, his large hand reaching towards me ready to swallow my shaking fingers in his vice-like grip. I am now frantic. All I can picture is one good tug from him popping my arm right off my shoulder. I can actually see him standing above me puzzledly looking at my disembodied arm held in front of him as I scream in pain and then faint dead away. Suddenly I am giggling up at him and stammering “No! No! It’s alright! I’ll get out. Really. Don’t touch me!” I manage to free myself clumsily and after great frantic effort, but that feeling of absolute panic and vulnerability still creeps into my nightmares some nights.

Destruction

I've been meaning to write an entry, even if it's just some stupid little piddly piece of fluffy kitten vomit, but I've said I'm too busy, too tired, too far gone in my own deep dark spring time induced little grey funk to be able to muster something so pointless as a blog entry.

Bull shit.

I'm officially getting the fuck over it.

Here goes:

Last Friday I awoke late way too early, did my entire bathroom routine in the dark (the fluorescent bulbs my Geek has replaced all my nice 25 watt bulbs with is WAY too bright some mornings so I just get dressed in the dark... which explains alot, I know) feed all the whiny needy defective pets I have, couldn't find the mate to one of my favorite shoes, had to wear my crappy black flats instead, and was heading out the door late way too early, when I spotted a note. Written in black Sharpie on a blank piece of what I still refer to as "Typing Paper" was the following:

Hey Sweetie,
I hope these make your day a little "sweeter!"

Kisses -- *My Geek*

The note was weighted down by a Dark Chocolate Orange (you know the big round orange liqueur flavored chocolates you whack on the table and break apart the little segments to eat) and a can of Mango Juice. Let's just say that at 3pm while drinking that heavenly nectar and lingering over my dark chocolate fix I cried because I was so lucky.

Today as I write this, I am safe and sound at my job, and my best friend is safe and sound at her job, and my Geek is safe and sound at his job, and my parents are safe and sound at their home and jobs, and that is enough to make me cry just a little bit.

When the world is as stupid and pointlessly violent and ignorant as it is today and everyday for all it's history sometimes you have to be a little self indulgent just to feel anything at all...