Friday, December 31, 2004

PEOPLE OF THE YEAR!

Did you see???? ABC News has named us PEOPLE OF THE YEAR!!! US!!! BLOGGERS!!! YOU!! ME!!! WE’RE THE PEOPLE. OF. THE. YEAR!!! But WE sooooo knew that already! Matter of fact, it was probably a blogger who broke the story. Okay, enough of the bragging stuff. Happy New Year’s Eve everyone. Christmas is finally over. The boys (Nate, J1 and J2) were thrilled with their medicine pouches, my sister-in-law seemed very pleased with her jewelry and everyone else seemed pleased as well. My nephews kept it to a low jet engine roar, except J2 at the dinner table. He let a fart and then refused to apologize or excuse himself and then his mom actually disciplined him for his rudeness....so... oh well, can’t have it all. I got a new scanner!!! Yay!!! See picture below. Yes, its of me. Just a little bit younger me. No, don’t scroll down. Geez! Where’s your patience? The nabes have left to bring in the New Year with their friends and I’m here “in case TLC needs me.” No, what he needs is at least one parent who gives a shit about him. Pfftt! Anyway... My dad took the boys out this afternoon, my mom cleaned the kitchen, my brother went to Wal-Mart, my SIL was getting ready to go out this evening... and that left me and Annie. Hee hee. We got some seriously cool play time in. She is so beautiful. Yes, I’m bragging, shut up. Her new hair is coming in and its RED! Whoo hooo!! My brother has red hair. Even her little eyebrows are red. My gift from them were framed photographs of the kids. They are really nice. I can’t wait to get my shit together and get them on the wall with the rest of the family. The ‘rents also got me a grill, not George Foreman, but same concept. So, I got what I wanted, except sleep and beer. That’s coming. Its been unseasonably warm!! 55 damn degrees (next week I’ll bitch about the cold). I’m bitching because... my beer is on the porch and it got warm and Nanna don’t drink no warm beer... so now its in the freezer. I have assembled most of my “Best of Blogger” post. I still have a few archives to search, okay, more than a few so it may be delayed a bit. I’ve tried to include everyone, which is good but not good. If you're not on the list (Vicki, Seven...) its because your archives are not real extensive yet. It could also be because I’m just fucking lazy. Guess you’ll never know. Then again, I might get a wild hair and include you anyway. Everyone can bitch at you if it takes me longer. Oh, got another gift from a most marvelous, wonderful person who knows who they are!!! (Zelda) I am SOOO LOVED!!! A cat coaster and a cat coffee pot with its own cup and tea!!! I was so wonderfully surprised!! Okay, now the serious stuff. My friends, it has been a year of great change for me. Anyone who has read me for a while knows that. As the minutes tick down to 2005, I have a lot to be thankful for. And because I love you so... I have a few wishes for you. May your beer always be cold. May Blogger never eat another post. May your pipes not freeze nor your air conditioners stop cooling. May your toilets not run over. May you never run out of gas. May you find $20 in that pair of pants you haven’t worn for a long time. May you dodge the hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, forest fires, and even a freak tsunami. May you always have someone to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on, a warm hug and a soft kiss. May you be blessed with health and wealth and most of all happiness. Thank you for sharing your lives with me and thank you for letting me share mine with you. Happy New Year Blogosphere!!!
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    Me and my Ma-Ma's cat, Sima Sue, Easter 1973.  Posted by Hello
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    Thursday, December 30, 2004

    Glutton For Punishment

    I went to T-Bird’s yesterday evening to drop off a DVD she wanted to borrow. I had to hear how J. has outgrown all of Nate’s clothes (his size 5's I’m assuming, since when he went into 6's he started wearing slims, which J. cannot) but then I looked at the tag on the shirt he was wearing (8/10) and it was at least three inches too long in the sleeve and drooped a good 2 ½ inches on the shoulder seam. Now, you can’t tell me the kid wouldn’t have looked better in a 6/7. I have no idea why she does this shit. Its the most fucking annoying crap. Then I had to listen to how J. is only five, yet he can sit and watch Lord of the Rings. I told her that Nate could watch Lord of the Rings at six, which is I believe when the first one came out on video... summer of 2002?? She said, "No, I believe he was 6 ½." No bitch! That’s how old he was when he went to THE THEATER to see The Two Towers. All two hours and 55 minutes of it!!! And who the fuck cares????? (Nate went on Adderall the Fall/Winter of 2002) Look, when we went to see "Star Wars - The Phantom Menace" in 1999, we left right around the pod racing scene. That’s how bad Nate was. And it was torture sitting there that long. True, he was three years old but still had no capacity to sit for over 15 minutes. This is why we didn’t go to see The Fellowship of the Ring and I waited until it came out on video. When I look back on the torturous scenes of our life (any type of church service, movies etc.) I am reminded of how far Nate has come. I had serious, serious doubts about taking him to see The Two Towers. I knew it would be excruciatingly long for an ADHD child, regardless of what was going on up on the screen. I knew the theater would be crowded making the likelihood of him disturbing another patron a distinct possibility. Love his heart. He sat through that whole thing... the last 30 minutes holding out the urge to go to the bathroom. I told him I would go with him and he said, "No, Mom. I am staying and watching the WHOLE movie." All righty then! And then he sat through "Pirates of the Carribean," and then "Return of the King." Nate is the kind of kid at home, that doesn’t actually sit and watch the movie, he has his swords out (different ones of course for LOTR and POTC) and acts out the movie as its playing. (Of course, I would never do that... ahem) It’s a good thing he can’t shoot webbing out of his wrists either. However, I don’t feel a desire to bring that up all the time. I don’t feel the need to point out the things that I know he did before J. did... like walk. I don’t feel the need to compare an apple to an orange. I think its just fine to share the experiences you have with your children, anecdote for anecdote. Like the time Nate called his dad a bitch. We all have a story of verbal slip-ups of our kids. The problem is, with T-Bird, it becomes a game of one-upmanship, something I refuse to participate in. If I’m on the phone, I roll my eyes and try to think of something I have to do so I can worm out of it. If its in person, I do try to hide my displeasure but not all the time. It just ruins the entire time for me, because when she starts she doesn’t shut up. Remember the little boy and his mother at bowling? How she said that her son was really close to Nate in scoring even though he wasn’t using the bumpers? Yeah, that’s a friend of T-Birds. I do try to brag on Nate in his presence, not so much so as to embarrass him or anything but I want him to know that I’m proud enough of him to call my friends and his grandparents and tell them he made the B Honor Roll. He’s worked very hard for that. If I could even begin to explain how absolutely horrible, terrible and disheartening his first years in school were, you would understand what a huge accomplishment it is for him to do this. It seems as though someone who has been in my life as long as she has would realize this too. Yet, its "Oh, how great! Now, J. 's teacher said ... blah, blah, blah." I’ve got to the point where I just don’t care about her anymore. I’ve told her before, when we’ve fussed and she’s wondered why I haven’t come around, that she’s self-centered. She calls me to talk AT me, not with me. She calls to tell me what going on in HER life... not find out anything about mine. Or she calls because she wants something. Plain and simple. After I told her how self-centered she was, she actually improved and we had some really meaningful conversations and our friendship took a different turn. But, here we go again. Its sad because I love J. very much. I love T-Bird too, and the rest of her family. But its gotten to the point when she says J.’s name, I just cringe because I know what’s coming. And frankly, I was two hairs-breadth away from calling her in to Child Protective Services over him this past summer. She wanted to yell at him and bitch and moan about how horrible he was and I told her, finally, that he was only reacting to his environment and that environment was unhealthy and yes, I meant her. I know, realize and admit that some of Nate’s shortcomings are no one’s fault but my own. I realize that yelling at him is no better than hitting him. By losing my temper instead of examining exactly why I’m upset, is my fault and to build a better kid, you have to build a better parent. I digress. I hate feeling this way about someone. I hate cringing when the phone rings and her number comes up. I hate not answering the phone because I don’t want to listen to the shit. And really, I don’t have the time, inclination nor energy to hash out her self-centeredness again. Its part of her personality, either I accept it or I don’t. Either I deal with it, or I leave it. Eh, this sucks. I’ll bury this later. Just had to get it off my chest, again.
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    Tuesday, December 28, 2004

    T-Bird vs. Kansas City

    Jeeezus Keee Riiiizzt... I’m bad. I think bad things. I’m so bad. T-Bird hasn’t had a phone for a good long while... unless she uses her neighbor’s phone. Such a fucking blessing. Now, she has a phone. Goddamn it to hell and back. Here is one of our typical conversations. *What I’m thinking* I: Hey. Fuck! T: Hey. What are you doin’? I: I just walked in the door 2 nanoseconds ago. What? Were you watching for me? T: Blah, blah, blah... (20 minutes) Oh and J., he just can’t wear those pants anymore. They are too snug on him. He likes his clothes loose. I: Uh huh. I think his mother likes to think he’s the tallest biggest five year old that ever walked the planet. T: We have to get one of the cars fixed because the truck doesn’t have any heat and J. just can’t ride around in a cold vehicle. You remember how sick he was last year with the flu? He didn’t move for three days. You know that’s just not like him. I: Uh huh. Goddamnit I KNOW, since you’ve told me twenty fucking times since last year. T: So, I told the Ex-hubby that he’s just going to have to get that heater fixed because J. has to be bundles against the cold. He just can’t get the flu again this year. I: I don’t worry about shit like that. Colds and flu are caused by bacteria and viruses not being cold. T: Oh, well, I know. I: Then why the fuck do you insist on continuing with the coat, mittens, toboggan, snow suit, blanket routine? Nate walks around in a jacket flapping open 99% of the time, hell, the brat still runs next door barefoot in 30 degree weather. HE didn’t have the fucking flu last year! Not even a fucking cold. Oh, I’m gonna pay for that T: So, its going to cost $550 to fix my car. Do you think I should? I: Ummmm... If you want to drive anywhere! T: We don’t know how much its going to cost to fix Ex-hubby’s truck but he needs brakes pad, calipers and tires. But my car needs seals (yada, yada). I: Fix the one that will cost the least amount of money to have the safest vehicle. Duh! T: Well, he is going to need new tires and they’re going to cost more for the Blazer. I: Then get used tires until you can afford better and stop trying to get me to say that YOUR car is the one that should be fixed because even though YOU’RE not working and the ex-hubby is supporting you. T: Well, he has to get the heater fixed too. I: So is it the heater itself or the blower? T: Its the blower. I: Same thing happened to my old car. The guy at (place) put a toggle switch on for 15 bucks or so. T: Well, D. said he would put a switch on it for us. Then what the fuck are you making such a big goddamn deal out of it for. Again, I’m not going to say that your car needs fixed so you can run around while your ex works. T: Well, I can’t take J. to preschool. I don’t give a shit. Take him to the one down the street that you can walk to instead of the one 15 miles away. I: Nate had a doctor’s appointment. He’s grown an inch and a half since June and gained a pound. He’s up to 56 now. T: Ha! Well J. weighs 51. He’s in the top percentile for his age group. Yes, I know. I: I’m just glad Nate gained some weight along with the height. His pounds are hard fought. What I can’t understand is if he grew that much but didn’t gain that much then how are his pants getting tight? T: Oh, I know, J. just can’t fit into a thing, I’m going to have to go to 7's, they are a little big on him (a lot), but he just doesn’t like tight clothes. I: Then buy him husky size. T: Oh, well, I don’t think they start making husky until size 8. I: I wouldn’t know. T: I told my brother that J. would just run circles around his three girls and he didn’t believe me until he saw it for himself. I know!! This has GOT to be the 100th time you have told me this for cripes sake. When not on medication, my son can run circles around ALL FOUR! T: Well, I told ex-hubby he needed to get heat in his truck because J. just can’t ride in there and it as cold as it is. I can’t afford for him to be a sick as he was last year. You know he didn’t move for three days. That is SOOOO not my son. You know how active he is. He can run circles around my nieces. I just can’t find a thing to fit him and he’s growing out of his shoes every three months (goddamn, he should wear a fucking 13 men’s shoe by now) And you KNOW the only reason he isn’t in Kindergarten this year is because he didn’t like the guy who gave the test for Kindergarten placement. I KNOW!!! And he knows his numbers to ten in Spanish. No shit, so does the little girl at the end of my block, oh wait, she speaks Spanish fluently and so do her brothers, ages 3 and 5. I: Yeah, I think that’s pretty standard in preschool now. I know Nate learned that in preschool. T: Well, J.’s teacher said he really needs to be in Kindergarten but you know he didn’t do well on the test because he didn’t fucking like the dude who gave him the test.. Goddamn it yes I know that! And people wonder why I’m flying to Kansas City to meet my blogger friends instead of driving a mile down the road to see T-Bird.
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    Gloating Will Get You Nowhere

    gloat (from Dictionary.com) n : malicious satisfaction v 1: dwell on with satisfaction 2: gaze at or think about something with great self-satisfaction, gratification, or joy *Conscience* **Sixth Sense** So now Lex is trying to worm his way back in... sort of. *Are you gloating?* Yes, I am gloating, thank you very much. *Tsk, tsk. Bad girl. Gloating will get you nowhere.* But a feeling of great satisfaction to know that my prediction that he would miss me has come to pass. *So what makes you think that?* Because he told me he wanted to hang out with me. *And?* "And" what? He said it, not me. He’s the one who brought it up, not me. *Ha, but did he show up?* Of course not. *And why do you suppose that is?* Because at the last minute he realized that he would actually have to give something of himself and bring down all sorts of walls and ... be intimate in order to be with me. The shock! The horror! *Hmmmm...* Ahhh, isn’t that reminiscent of AZ this time last year? Making all sorts of realizations about himself and admitting how he’s been depressed for the past 35 years and how miserable his life is and then doing nothing about it. Seems as though Lex is on that same path. Running hot, running cold, running away. *And yet you still have the audacity to gloat?* Yes, I do. You see, Conscience, I like being right for once. I like being able to sit back and watch the play unfold as I predicted it would. Whether I be the victor or not, there is a small victory in being right. *So, he doesn’t think you’re worth changing for?* Oh, it doesn’t have anything to do with me personally. It has everything to do with what he wants bad enough, not just me, but life and living life instead of running away from it. Now, life will let you know that the further you dangle the carrot, either a) peeps will give up or b) They’ll follow that carrot until they’re allowed to have it. I, being the carrot, win either way. If he walks, he wasn’t worth having. If he follows, then he might be worth having. *Its not your job to change anyone.* This is I know... but a little incentive never hurt anyone. How difficult it must be to look at something so beautiful and strong and intelligent and wish you could have it... and you turn and look and walk... and turn and look and walk... and then turn and walk back and then walk away again. *Not just gloating but conceited as well* Convinced, baby, convinced. I’m worth every positive change he could make. The portal is closed. I’m the destination now. That’s the choice we all have. We all have the capability to look in the mirror and say, "I’m going to change. I’m going to be different." Its not something I have a corner market on. Now he walked back but now he’s walking away again but he keeps looking back. Its hard not to. The only thing is, I’m ahead of him, so every step he takes back is another one he’ll have to make up later because I’m not stopping. He needs to get on the fast track. *Not asking much are you?* Hey. I did it. *Not very sympathetic are you?* Well.... no. Empathetic perhaps but not sympathetic. We all have our burdens to bear. Each is as heavy as the last. What one could take, another could not. The stronger you are, the more burdens you must bear, for a lesser person would fall. And before you say anything Conscience, I’m convinced, okay? *Okay O Great Gloating Conceited Convinced One... how’s this going to end?* As far as I’m concerned, I’m going to be just fine. As far as he’s concerned... well, that remains to be seen. I think its going to be interesting. *One last thing... OGGCCO... why did he do this? Why did he start talking to you again?* Because he loves me dork. Its hard not to. -Conscience rolls eyes- * My God we’ve created a monster* -Inanna sits up straighter- Look Conscience, its time you met Sixth Sense. Sixth Sense meet Conscience. Now, you two, listen up. Its not hard for me to know when he’s thinking of me or what he’s thinking. I know how much he wants to be with me again. I wonder how the sweat popped out on his brow when he, oh so casually, brought up us "hanging out." He knows where I stand. He knows how I feel. I was angry with him, yes, very much so. Not so much because he hurt me, but because he continues to hurt himself. He knows if he wants any chance at all, he’s going to have to stop that shit. That’s a tough decision. Its a tough move. This also not something I can funnel or filter through me and voila, he pops out a new man on the other side. He has to become the new man because Nanna is done with the filterin’ and funnelin’. Frankly, it has nothing to do with loving me, but has everything to do with him loving and trusting himself. That’s nothing I can give him or show him, its something he has to dig around and find for himself, inside himself. *When did she get so fucking philosophical?* **I thought she was your monster?** Ya’ll shut up. -Inanna throws up hands and walks away- *Thank God, I thought she was going to keep me here all night!* ** Come on, let’s get back to the poker game before she comes back. I’m already on overtime this week and its only Monday!**
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    Sunday, December 26, 2004

    Its Over (Part One)

    I have survived the first round of Christmas. The second will occur when my most immediate family actually finds the time to get together (i.e. when my brother can be bothered to bring his bitch and brats down to the 'rents.) In addition to the wonderful gifts listed previously, I also received, a book, a shirt, a clock, 20 or 30 washclothes (from T-Bird, because I have none. None, okay, maybe two) and a pedometer, also from T-Bird. My friend Beanie has been taping episodes of Nip & Tuck for me so she gave me those. Yay! Now it is time to look ahead to the coming week. It will be a busy one. Monday, Nate has a doc appt. at 9:20, then he will go to his dad's. I will pick him up after work and take him to my Mom's until Thursday evening... ? Friday afternoon? We will celebrate New Year's with dip. While Nate is gone, I'm going into that room of his and cleaning. Everything in there is basically getting trashed. Well, almost. I need to make room for all the new stuff. Plus, I will be cleaning around the house and blogging and making medicine pouches and something for Annie. Oh, and working a lot since I have a multitude of bills to catch up on before the KC trip. Sigh. Always something. My Christmas tree didn't get put up until Christmas morning. I checked all of the lights before I put them on the tree and yet one half of one strand did not want to work. So, I have a white light star, a big black section, a blinking section of white lights and then a steady section of white lights. The only other lights I had were colored so I strung those over the dark section. So now, it has a white start, steady colored lights, blinking white lights and steady white lights. Yes, its beautiful... different but beautiful. I didn't put a lot on it... bells, and jingle bells and some other ornaments, most that Nate made or some highly breakable swans. Before I left to start Christmas rounds, I threated my cats with their lives and the pound if I came home and found my tree on the floor. When I told my mom this, she asked if I thought it would do any good. I told her I was certain that my felines understood my meaning and I would find my tree wonderfully intact even after being gone for almost 10 hours. And it was. Absolutely 100% intact. Not even an ornament on the floor. YAY! Oh, I almost forgot. My German parents sent me a new witch, which is hanging in the Christmas tree (she's flying on a broom) and a new set of swans from some place in Germany. I collect swans. (I have two swans made of Swarvoski crystal that they sent me.) They were immediately put in my curio cabinet. I suppose one day I need to sit down and catalog all of them since alot of them are expensive... like the Swarvoski's, Fenton's etc. Plus, sentimental value. Ahhhh... now, Nate is watching LOTR - ROTK the extended version and I'm blogging and getting ready to start on something for my niece. We'll see if it turns out okay. I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday and a quick recovery!!
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    Thursday, December 23, 2004

    A Conversation With Santa

    Okay, finally, as I have been promising for... oh ... I don’t remember. Anyway. I’ve already had a killer Yuletide and its not even Ho-Ho Day yet. How has your hostess with the mostess made out so far? Let’s see: Bonus at work. Boss sends another $100 in the mail. I used part of my bonus to buy a ticket to KANSAS CITY!!! Okay, you knew that already. I used part of the $100 to buy U2's new CD and John Mellencamp’s Greatest Hits. I LOVE HIM! I also bought new pajamas (WVU - Blue/Gold) and a new pair of slippers (fuzzy light blue). I still have almost thirty bucks left. My other boss and his wife got me a Godiva chocolate bar, Ahava foot cream (from their trip to Israel and the Dead Sea), and a beautiful black, white and red scarf. I went to see my bud PC and he gave Nate and I ... oh boy, this is SOOOO GOOOD... THE LORD OF THE RINGS version of TRIVIAL PURSUIT!! Two of my favorite things in the world, COMBINED!! *Salivating* He also gave me the pajama set that he was supposed to give the girlfriend he broke up with. My luck he is too lazy to return it at the mall. It has dogs on it and its pink. Its a little tight across the chest but, oh well, I’m too lazy, agoraphobic and claustrophobic to exchange it at the mall. Hate the mall. Now, I didn’t ask for any of that (okay, I prayed real hard for the bonus) but frankly I would be happy with flannel pajamas, new tunes, and LOTR Trivial Pursuit. However, there is one thing I do want to ask Santa for so let me interrupt him at the most important time of year because I’m narcissistic that way. *Phone ringing* Hey, Santa its Inanna... Yeah, that Inanna... What do I want? Well, In case anyone hasn’t told you already, I’ve been a very good girl this year. *Whoever just snorted, shut up* Now Santa, I know you normally have a pretty tough time with me since I do tend to be a naughty girl. I think though this year, you will see that I am more than deserving of my request. For starters, I have not gotten drunk and flashed the conductor of the train that sits next to my house on the weekends. What? That time in March? Oh, see, that was a wardrobe malfunction. You know those March winds are killer! Its like you’re just walking along and UP comes the shirt. Really. I haven’t been in front of any men on my knees... on the floor. I haven’t lied to my mother...very much and if I did it was so she wouldn’t have a heart attack. Lies of omission only count for men. I haven’t watched any porn...on my TV. I have only slept with two men this year. Okay, so one of them was married. But just one and it only happened ONE time. You have to admit, this is an improvement. I was very reasonable with my other gift requests. (Inanna: I want a George Forman Grill. Mom: What kind? Inanna: The kind that cooks food/Inanna: A scanner would be nice. Mom: What kind? Inanna: The kind that scans pictures.) I have combed my hair... three times this year. No one notices the tangles if its in a bun anyway. My house has been neat...seven out of the twelve months. Also an improvement, up from two. I have not taken any drugs not prescribed by a phys ... never mind. My alcohol consumption has definitely dropped this year. *No wonder I’ve been cranky* I have contributed my time and money towards worthy causes. *Ha! Got you on that one! Oh, deduct points for gloating* I have not given any Christians the finger... to their face. I have not been caught speeding. *I didn’t say I haven’t been speeding, I said I haven’t been caught speeding... see the difference?* I have not masturb... skip that. Skip that... skip that... skip that.... Oh and I’ve made wonderful new friends all over the world... What? What do you mean they’re a bad influence?! Oh. Regan? The Spongebob thing? Oh. Well. Um. You know, maybe she just thought it happened... oh, it did for real huh... yeah. Well, that’s just one out of many... Sid?... oh she’s always like that... that’s why she’s the Mistress of Doomy Burrito Rants... *rolls eyes* ... she did what?... you don’t say... hmmmm... well, I’m sure it was just a one time thing. *Ahem* But she writes those great haikus!! *hmpf!* Well, what about Tsarina and Angi... sweet, sweet peeps, doing good in the world. Yeah, take that Santa. Hey! Jamie is a nurse and is also doing good things!... so what about that party! ... geez, you sure are picky this year! Wait, wait, wait! I thought its "he knows when you’ve been bad or good," and you’re just bringing up all the bad stuff! I keep doing what? Making things worse for myself?! Explain there fucker in red.... Who?... Oh, you mean Sayven, you said "Seh-ven" and its "Say- ven, soft "n", a little nasal, like bien, see the fucking difference? Now, look here St. Dick, I’m here with just one small simple request and I’m getting the third degree... Oh? You got one word for me?? Bring it on you fairy dust snortin’, Reindeer abusin’, elf molestin’, old fart!... Oh. Trashman. Yeah, I get it... Well, just so you know you old fuck, he’s MY sunshine, just like the rest, and I didn’t really want that sheet-ripping-sweat-dripping-back-arching-toe-curling-nail-raking-screaming-until-I-can't-breath-passing-out sex. Ya’ll worth more than that. Happy Hanukkah. Kool Kwanza. Bright Yuletide Blessings. Merry Christmas. (If I missed your holiday, tell a mammal that cares and quit whining. )
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    I'M GOING TO KANSAS CITY!!!!!

    Passenger Receipt and Itinerary INANNA MOON Confirmation Number/Record Locator: SkyMiles Number: RECEIPT INFORMATION Psgr: INANNA MOON Ticket Number: 00623062338393 This document expires 23DEC05. Ticket Issue date: 23DEC04 FlightNbr 5033 DepartureDate 14JAN05 BkngClass T Status OK Carrier/Vendor DELTA/Operated by COMAIR DepartureCity CHARLESTON WV DepartureTime 1015A ArrivalCity CINCINNATI ArrivalTime 1111A Seat/Class 9A COACH Meals/Other FlightNbr 5833 Departure Date 14JAN05 Bkng T Status OK Carrier/Vendor DELTA/ Operated by COMAIR DepartureCity CINCINNATI DepartureTime 1145A ArrivalCity KANSAS CITY ArrivalTime 1234P Seat/Class 9A COACH LOOK OUT MISSOURI... HERE I COME!!! HAPPY YULE TO ME!!!
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    Tuesday, December 21, 2004

    Oh Bring Me Some Piggy Pudding...

    That's how Nate sings, "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." I tried to tell him it was "figgy" pudding but he didn't think it sounded as cool. Reality speaking, I think he captured the holiday. Happy Solstice my friends!!! Merry Meet!! I'm cleaning. Well, I was cleaning until I missed you guys and had to sit and blog. However, I don't want to have a House That Jack Threw Up In. Talk about an incentive. Yikes!!! (It is, I'm happy to report, FAR from that.) Again, I was going to tell you about what I want for Christmas. However, something else has been on my mind. Wait... oh, that was something else on my mind yesterday. I posted in Seven's comments today what I wanted. And for you non-Cajuns, that's Sayven, soft "n", almost nasal, like bien. Anyway, now there's something new on my mind today. I wrote this letter to my family doctor and I wondered if you guys could give me your opinion. Dear Dr. B.: So sorry to bother you yet again with my problems, after all, you’re just my physician, why should you care? I mean, since December 1st you have been faxed two letters and have received a phone call from me answered by your darling staff or your answering machine, or a multitude of answering machines, almost every other day. And how wonderful that you keep me from getting bored by not having the same person answer the phone each time. In the past three weeks, I have valiantly tried to get you to a) prescribe medication which my psychologist says I need to try and 2) then have you or your staff get this prescription pre-authorized by my insurance so I’m not paying $100 for 30 freakin’ pills. Did I mention I don’t have a hundred dollars? Didn’t it mean anything to you that I was thoughtful enough to call the insurance myself, get a case file set up, call you with the phone number, the case number, the diagnosis code from my psychologist’s office, AND have my insurance fax you a list of questions that they would need answered? I guess not because I STILL DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING MEDICATION!! Now, here’s the long and the short of it. Maybe you don’t believe in Adult ADD/ADHD and that’s why you’re reluctant to assist me. Why don’t you call my Mama? Better yet, call my psychologist. Yes, its true that he doesn’t know if I’m simply an ADDer or psychotic, but wouldn’t you rather operate under the assumption that I’m ADD and if you give me this medication to try then I won’t BE PSYCHOTIC?? Furthermore, you know those cute little self-tests they give you to at least give you an idea if you're ADD? Well, 25 is considered the bottom most score for severe. I scored 40. This is exactly the reason why I haven’t called your office EVERYDAY... because I got distracted. It certainly isn’t because I’m NICE. Perhaps though, its just the fact you have an asinine office staff who need a good ass chewing for not responding promptly to my concerns. Now, I don’t expect them to kiss my ass, or, at least I didn’t, that’s all changed now you see because if my ADD psychotic ass can remember to call YOUR office amongst all the work that I’m NOT getting done, surely a member of your stellar staff could do the same. Maybe THEY’RE the ones who need the medication. Now, if you had any concerns at all about prescribing this medication or getting this medication authorized through my insurance then I would expect one of the following things to happen: 1) You would consult with me by phone; 2) You would ask that I come to your office to consult with me or 3) You would consult with my psychologist. Since my psychologist’s office actually answers the phone and knows whether or not you freaks have contacted them by phone or fax or snail mail, my guess is, number three hasn’t occurred. Since I’m all up in arms and pissy, yeah, numbers one and two haven’t occurred either. I’ve heard some wonderful things about this medication. While no medicine is 100% effective in curing what ails us, I would like the opportunity to see if perhaps I would be compelled to actually pick up shit around my house instead of just staring at it, confused and bewildered as where I should start. Perhaps I wouldn’t spend the days before Christmas cleaning out six months worth of sale papers and collection notices from under the couch, or actually washing ALL of the dishes instead of just what I can get by with, or actually being able to put clothes up in the closet in and in the dresser when I finish washing them instead of leaving them stacked on the dryer or in a basket, hell, maybe I would find the gumption to WASH the fucking clothes more often and a full load, that would nice, instead of just throwing in a pair of this and a pair of that to "get us through." Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you what effect this has on my self-esteem. Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you that I’ve been called do-less and lazy my entire life. Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you that IF this medication works, I’m still faced with re-learning better habits. IF this medication works I have over an intense month of work ahead of me with writing lists and forcing myself to budget my time better so my house will be clean and I’ll still have the time to do the things that keep me sane, like blogging and beading. And let’s not fail to mention what a positive effect a much more organized mother would have on my ADHD child. And lo and behold I may actually make a budget and stick to it so I’m not biting my nails four days before Christmas praying for a bonus. So, what exactly is the fucking problem? Do you even KNOW there’s a problem? Well, if this letter actually made it to you instead of one of your highly evolved ass monkeys trashing it, then you do now. I know I’ve been sarcastic and rude and I’ve not used very nice language. It happens to us ADDers, its IMPULSIVE BEHAVIOR, you know when we interrupt and finish your sentences and otherwise do and say things that other people find inappropriate. *pause* So, if you don’t want inappropriate letters, and your staff trashed and called ass monkeys, then have someone get off their lazy "piggy pudding" ass and provide the information to the insurance company. You are impeding my progress. Either get on board or get out of the way, because I'M COMING THROUGH. Verrrrry truuuuuly YOURS! "The!" Nanner So, wonderful bloggy pudding pals... what say you?
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    Monday, December 20, 2004

    Vulnerability

    I had a funny post somewhat ready for today but something has been on my mind. Its this. This is an article about violence against pregnant women. The article was written in response to the murder of Bobbie Jo Stinnett. I first got wind of her murder when her daughter popped up on the Amber Alert. When I saw "premature baby," I thought, "now who in the hell lets a premature baby out of their sight?" If you don’t know, Mrs. Stinnett, eight months pregnant, was strangled to death and her daughter CUT FROM HER WOMB. What ever that little girl is made of, it must be some tough stuff. A study in the above referenced article states that the leading cause of death for pregnant and postpartum (up to 6-8 weeks after birth) women is not hemorrhage or stroke, its homicide. HOMICIDE. HOM-I-CIDE. More often than not its at the hands of someone they know. The husband, the boyfriend, the ex, the ex’s wife or new girlfriend. Rarely is it an act of random violence. Mrs. Stinnett knew the woman who attacked her because they had corresponded over the Internet about the Murderer buying a dog. The same damn medium where we have met. Where I welcome you into my home and my workplace. Where I arrive unannounced and silent in your den, living room, bedroom, or office. Frightening isn’t it? Some of you know my real name, my address, and my phone numbers and I, the same about you. Scared yet? (Anytime we hear about Internet "relationships" gone bad, I know this goes through my head.) There is nothing more vulnerable than being pregnant. Nothing. Especially in the last trimester. You’re off balance, heavy, and tired. You’re not agile and any heavy exertion in the last three months will likely rock you back on your heels in pain. The ligaments in your groin and stomach are tender and stretched. Its not a likely time to want to be fending off an attack. You’re only thought would be about your baby. The Mama Bear response takes over and nothing else matters but that child living. The article bothered me. I’ve written before, a while back, that one of my clients was pregnant and murdered execution style when she was eight months pregnant. She owed the wrong people money. Her son went to pre-school with Nate. My co-worker and I went to the funeral to speak to her mother, who we also knew. The casket was open. At first I wondered why they had a baby doll in there with her and then realized, it was her daughter. She was so perfect, so beautiful. She looked just like a porcelain doll. Unlike her mother, she showed no signs of the trauma which had taken her life. Seeing her in that casket had to be one of the most extreme moments of my life. I will never forget it. (Lacy Peterson never even got that chance... even in death she was denied the right to hold her child - sorta paraphrased from the Scott Peterson trial and how true.) Even before that, maybe a year or two, but after I had Nate, I went to work at the accounting job I had for a big textile corporation. The parking garage was full of police cars. A woman, eight months pregnant, was attacked. She handed over the keys to her vehicle. But that wasn’t enough for him. He decided he would shove her down the concrete steps in the stairwell and that’s where she was found. She survived and so did the baby. A boy. She has some neurological deficits due to the head injury she sustained. This happened the day after my friend, Nay, had her baby so as I was visiting her, I had an opportunity to look through the nursery windows to see the baby. He was the only one without a name tag attached to the basinet and you could tell he was a C-Section baby because of his beautiful round head. They caught the asshole and he’s now a guest at one of the fine correctional facilities here. Fucker. Perhaps within the past two years, I read a newspaper account of a murder either in WV or in MD, but very close the border of the two states. The wife of a philandering husband caught his lover out with her two week old daughter and shot them both. She shot A TWO WEEK OLD BABY! Sometimes I thought, "That could have been me." Sperm donor threatened to send me down a flight of steps and he was married. Luckily, he didn’t and his ex is not prone to violence. (Frankly, she was glad to be rid of him.) I don’t really have much else to say. I just keep wondering where our humanity went and how civilized we really are.
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    Update of Photoblog

    Some of you have asked to see pics of my jewelry and other beadwork. I've posted it on my photoblog. Zelda, this means everyone but you, unless you want to ruin your surprise. (Her's is the red necklace. She already knew what color it was gonna be.) Its a balmy 5 degrees here with a windchill of -4. The high tomorrow, a lovely 22. One of you hot men need to get your keister to WV so you can snuggle with my soft, voluptuous body. I'll make it worth your while. COMPLY!
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    Sunday, December 19, 2004

    ouch

    I know, I said I wasn’t going to post until Monday. Well, pffft! I lied okay? This is only a short post to tell you what a dumbass I can be and then a genius. Okay, maybe not a genius. Nate’s PS2 went on the fritz about a month or so ago. Heh, maybe longer. Naturally I was going to get him another one for Christmas. Of course, PS2 is now the HOTTEST Christmas toy and every store from here to Canada is sold out. I ended up spending... seven hours running here and there looking for this elusive monster. I come home and check online; everything is on back order and the PS2's on Ebay are now going for $200-$350. No way in hell okay? Smart me gets online to PlayStation.com. I start troubleshooting. I’m running between the computer room and the bedroom, cussing all the way, ho, ho, ho. The last thing, if all else fails, is to switch your cables. Now, there’s a novel idea. I know I have a UHF converter around here somewhere. Hell, I may even have another AV Cable. I look in Nate’s room and only find the electric hookup from the PS1. I did however find my cell phone charger in one of the boxes I looked in. Fuck it. Off to K-Mart I go. I get a UHF converter for $9 and change. I come home. Plug it in and .... it worked. So, I wasted seven fucking hours looking for something I wasn’t going to find anyway and the solution was right under my nose. Then I realized the fucking controller is missing. He and TLC took it off and it has disappeared. Still... cheaper than a new PS2. To top it off, as I was looking for the controller in the vast void of my bedroom, I lifted up the same box that had my cell phone charger in it and found... that’s right... my UHF converter AND the other AV cable. Oi. I figure that I might as well store them where I can actually find them as one or more of these things is going to wear out eventually. By the time my genius kicked in and I got all that accomplished, I then needed to start getting ready for my ultra boring office party which entailed me sitting at my desk, reading blogs and combing the tangles out of my hair. See, I don’t actually comb my hair very often. I wash it but don’t comb it. I just tend to pull my fingers through it to get the worst of the snarls out and go on my way. This doesn’t work all the time and eventually I have to sit down with a comb and comb it. It took ... about an hour. An ouchy ouchy hour. My office party... oh, just not worth going into. BO-ring. I came home and started working on one of my bead projects. When I work on my loom, I do that at my desk. But when I do other beading, I can pretty much set up shop wherever I want, which in this case, was my bed so I could watch one of my perennial favorite movies, Twister. Not having done this kind of beading, i.e. jewelry, in about two weeks, it put a little stress on my back as I do tend to sit slumped over with my head unnaturally jutted forward from my shoulders. Bad, bad, bad. I woke up this morning with an absolute pounding headache and my shoulder muscles are visibly swollen. Not knots, just the whole top of my shoulders are puffy. If you’ve never had a headache caused by stiff muscles, praise the masses! All right this is too long. I did manage to get part of my desk cleaned while waiting on these three Advil© to take effect. Now, for the rest of the house. I’ll be happy with the living room, the computer room and part of the kitchen for today. Nate and I can decorate a little when he comes home from his dad’s. Tune in tomorrow when I tell you guys what I want for Christmas and what Santa had to say.
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    Thursday, December 16, 2004

    "Its been a WEEK" Wrap-up

    I blogged Sunday but not Monday. I think I spent most of my time Monday trying to decide what to do about AZ. I also spent time in the alley crying over it. By Monday night I started answering the questions you guys and gals had posted and I found my answer about AZ. Funny ole world isn't it? Tuesday I posted pics and audios and answers. I have now been downloaded to hard drives. Mmmmmmm... down loaded to hard drives... ahem... where was I? Ah, yes, Wednesday and Lex. One of my better qualities is I don't have the capacity to stay angry very long at people as long as I believe they made a mistake or are messed up as opposed to being vicious. I think Lex is just messed up. However, our newly appointed office manager, well, she's just a bitch. An overbearing, rude, vicious bitch. You guys didn't get to hear about her. Well, she bitched the receptionist out over SEVEN FUCKING CHRISTMAS CARDS!!! Our receptionist lived with an abusive asshole for 30 years. She's worked very, very hard to overcome the effects of that abuse. It truly pissed me off when I came in from getting coffee and this dear lady, even as flaky and passive-agressive as she is, was crying. So, let the power struggle begin over whether or not we're going to have Christmas cards around a 3 foot tree. Puh-leeeze peeps!! Office Manager is a condescending wench. I went upstairs and reported to my boss. He didn't want to get in the middle of it. Okay. Yet, I heard him talking to Office Manager and another paralegal as I left. He said something to the effect that he had heard that she had engaged in a war of the wits with Receptionist and couldn't she have picked a person who had wits to battle with. Ha ha, laugh, laugh. *Grrrrrrrrrr* That was vicious. Makes me wonder what he says about me behind MY back. Frankly, between the cracks about sand niggers and oreos (that would be people of bi-racial ancestry), he's really been on a role of losing my respect this week. Add in the bonus thing and honestly, I'm not real happy at my job right now. I think he can tell. He's been coming back to my office more often to actually engage me in conversation about our cases because I just haven't been stopping by to chit chat on my way in and out of the office. He goes through these spells where he gets like this... then he cycles out of it into this wonderful, generous person who treats everyone with dignity. I think Office Manager has had an effect on him. Me thinks she should spend more time at HER desk instead of yakking with the paralegal next to me. Trust me. I know they talk about me. I'm not stupid. See, unlike poor Receptionist, I'm a paralegal and furthermore, I'm a real one, not a glorified legal assistant. I do know how to write briefs and I have written briefs in Federal Court cases and motions and memorandums of law in Circuit Court. I win 95% of my Social Security cases. I do all the work up, all the research and I write the memo the lawyers read from. I prep the clients and I prep the lawyers. I've won cases on the 4th level because I know the law judge screwed up and didn't apply the rules correctly. I go to mediations and settlement hearings with difficult clients and on large cases because I know the files and my clients inside and out. When they won't listen to him, they'll listen to me because I'm the one who has the closest relationship with them and they trust me. I'm sure if it wasn't so damn hard in my city to find a good paralegal he might have fired me a few times. I'm not perfect and in case you didn't notice, I can have an attitude. I told boss man, you can put her in the position of office manager and let her have a power trip over five whole people, but keep me out of it. I had worked with her long enough that she absolutely grates on my nerves. I'm all for women being ballsy and gutsy... but I draw the line at vicious, rude behavior. Perhaps if we had a much bigger office and many more minions schlepping in late (like I did this morning because some jerk off decided to get on the Interstate the wrong way and kill himself) then perhaps her heavy-handed ways would be a bit more warranted. Receptionist is a very good employee and thinks the world of us. Yes, she can get absolutely annoying as fuck, but I'm sure after listening to all of our whiny clients all day, I'd be a bit annoying too. For instance, she knows how much I enjoy beading and brings me articles etc. and knock-knock jokes for Nate. She didn't deserve to be reduced to tears. Okay, well this recap has turned into a rant, gotta love it. Anyway, this leaves today when I was late for work, fought with my doctor's office over my medications *grrrrrrrr* and basically, because I didn't have my meds, had a fairly NON-PRODUCTIVE DAY. Now, I face a very busy, busy weekend. I HAVE to shop for Nate... I have to work, I HAVE to clean my house. It is, well, just disgusting. No, trust me... between all the work I've been doing on my beading and everything else.... shudder. Time to clean... put the tree up and make this place look like somewhere Santa Claus would want to visit. Not to mention a necklace, three bracelets, three medicine pouches and other beading to do. Its going to be a long weekend, with little sleep. Oh, and yeah, my office Christmas party. What joy! Single again. I HATE going to these things stag. Sigh. So, I'll leave you with another digi pic of my beadwork. This is the beaded part of a wall hanging that I haven't gotten done for one of the partners in our firm. I'll see you guys Monday.
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    More beadwork. Posted by Hello
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    Could My Life Get ANY Stranger???

    What is it about the end of the year that peeps feel compelled to right wrongs and move forward? This has been a week of revelations!!! Case in point. Lex. He IM’d me yesterday while I was at work. "How ya doin’ baby?" Baby? *scrunches forehead* Okay, what the fuck is going on??? We chit-chatted... talked about traveling, the Super Bowl... then he said he would look for me tonight online. Wha??? Huh? Sure enough... I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business when he pops up. He asked about Nate’s dad, as in, what does he look like. I told him and asked why he wanted to know. (Just so you know, Nate’s dad and AZ... ummm... hate each other. And since AZ and Lex work together... you saw where my mind went) Anyway, he related that while in a local Christmas parade he was harassed by a cop of the same city that Nate’s dad used to work for. (Nate’s dad is disabled from the force). I told him that I was sorry to hear that happened to him but glad I wasn’t the cause. He said, "You’ve never been the cause. You’re the sweetest, most intelligent woman I’ve ever known." (I’m paraphrasing... he was actually a lot nicer than that) *Inanna scratches head* I said thanks, wondering what the fuck was going on. Did I really need this? Ahhhh, grasshaaaapers.... he has a problem (I think we all know this already... but... for those of us just joining the game....) He said a lot of things about not being right in the head (Yep, knew that) and about how he feels as though if he does not let people into his "world" then there will be less emotional pain involved. THANK THE GODS!!! What an open door for me to walk through. *giddy dancing* I told him that was bullshit. I told him how much pain it caused me because he DIDN’T let me in and that was the EXACT reason I stopped seeing him. Get this... he said, "I cared about you too much to let you into my world." *Confused look* That does not make a bit of sense to me. Okay, it does make sense but it makes no sense, if you get the sense of what I’m talking about. He feels as though because he has no idea where his life is going or how long he’s going to be here that he shouldn’t love nor be loved nor include anyone in his life to the degree that they would get too close to him, therefore sparing them the pain when he leaves. I told him that was a real nice excuse to not be intimate with someone but it was and is a crock of shit. He’s scared, just like the rest of us. Let’s face it. None of us know where we will be this time next month. What if I finish that screenplay and sell it? How is my life going to change? Think about it. Life can change any minute. A child is born. Someone dies. Life changes. I’m now painfully aware, however, that not everyone sees it that way. Whatever happens now, I know I have the strength to face it. Life is a series of lessons to be learned so we become stronger and wiser. Some of those lessons are so painful, we wonder if the light will ever appear above us again. Some don’t ever make it out. Some do but then squirrel themselves away, like Lex... living superficially, which to me, is not living at all. The past is gone. It may influence who you are, but it certainly shouldn’t dictate your future. My friend PC wrote a poem about he and I once. Somewhere I still have a copy of it. It was called... "The Coin???" PC, help me out if you remember. But in that poem he talked about how one side of the coin is battered and scarred, heavily used, while the other side has a few nicks and scratches but is otherwise smooth. I was the battered side and he was the smooth side. A testament, at that time, to how we lived our lives. My side of the coin has many more scars on it and I’m happy (sort of) to report that so does his. I don’t like it when he’s hurt or unhappy but I know he’s taking the bull by the horns and living and learning. Actually, he’s really kind of shocked me since moving back here from Georgia. He’s definitely changed. As for Lex, I’m happy at least to see him talking about this. This is the first big step. Admitting there’s a problem. I wasn’t real nice about it. I came down pretty hard on him and asked him a lot of hard questions, not just about himself, but his current relationship and about what happened with us. And my stomach never twisted in a knot, the butterflies were quiet. Before... I would have been a mess saying the things I did... because of my abandonment issues. Afraid to speak my mind for fear the people I cared about would walk away. Its good to look back and see how far I’ve come. Unfortunately, I also remembered something else. Why I was attracted to him to start with: his heart, his soul, his intelligence, almost like a butterfly struggling to free himself from a cocoon. Remembering how we used to rest our foreheads together and hide behind our hair (both of us have long hair). I missed him. I missed the person I know he is, all the while knowing... he won’t show that person and... I can’t be with someone who won’t let me in. (I also boxed his ears over what he said about my cats. HMPF!) I think him living with his mom is just another way to avoid intimacy. We discussed our highly evolved emotional defense mechanisms. Yes... of course I have one... but I’m learning to use it a lot more wisely. I don’t keep everyone out, I’ve just learned who’s healthy enough for me to be let in. Sort of like a nice filtering system. Like I said, I’m glad he’s at least talking about it. It gives me a lot of hope for him. He really is a sweet guy... a jerk at times... but nonetheless, a very sweet, screwed up guy. Sometimes I really hate being reminded of how much I care about somebody. I just hope he gets his head out of his ass and works on letting himself open up to people. There’s nothing I can do about that though. All I can do is listen, give him the tools and encourage him to be a mechanic.
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    Wednesday, December 15, 2004

    Reason. Season. Lifetime.

    I talked to AZ yesterday. Saturday was his birthday and I called to see how it went. He said, "We uh.. errr.. I went to (big expensive seafood restaurant) for lunch." (Frown) Does he think he has to lie to me? That makes me mad. I’m not sure if he doesn’t want to say, "I and the GF went to lunch at (seafood restaurant)" because he knows how I feel about him (or felt) and thought it might hurt me (please, I’m an adult, I can handle it) but... I have the feeling, he just doesn’t want me to know if he’s dating someone or not. Like... if I’m kept in the dark, then he has a better chance of getting what he wants when he wants it. Keeping me off balance.... There is no doubt that AZ has been the number one influence in my life for the past, almost, 13 years. He has shown me the path and I have taken it. Not in regard to the two of us, but in regard to myself. He’s the one who showed me the bootstraps, but I’m the one who pulled myself up. AZ has been there for me during the transition of teenager to woman, childless to mother, living at home to homeowner, co-dependent to independent. And I realized... that transition is complete. I realized that I’ve grown and changed and the direction that I have changed in, is not the direction that he is in anymore. I have resisted this. I have felt lost without him in the past, when we haven’t spoken, when we’ve stayed away from each other. When I began blogging, I did drift away from him. Why? Because most of you (Ye bloggers) are going in my direction. He’s not. I’m not bitter or even sad anymore about the fact that he won’t be honest with me. He has his selfish reasons I’m sure. Yes, he is selfish. I’ve known this for a very long time. Oh, he has many redeeming qualities as well. But I’ve seen less and less of them. In 12 years, he’s never remembered my birthday. Ever. I just finally got tired of that. I don’t need gifts or gushing celebration songs... a phone call would suffice... ON my birthday, not as an after thought. Even more, the hiding of his girlfriend (I guess that’s what she is). Even if I brought her up in conversation... like yesterday he told me he was going to a town over two hours away through the mountains... very rural... and when I asked, "why are you going there?" He deftly avoided the question, even when I repeated it. My guess is, it had something to do with the GF. So what? Big deal. Does he not think that by telling me about her or what they do together would help me realize how things are NOT going to work out for us? Or is that it? That he’s afraid I will realize that and I won’t be his "fall back" any more? Sorry, I put that "somewhere in the 130's" intelligence to work and figured that out for myself. The realization didn’t hit me as hard as I thought it would. It was more of a relief than anything. Anytime I have thought of cutting him loose (i.e. not calling him, not going to see him at remotes, not writing him letters) I have dissolved into tears. Not this time. When I answered the questions, especially the ones about what I would change, what my regrets were, and about "the one who got away," I realized, everything is exactly where it should be. I wouldn’t change anything. I have no regrets. And AZ didn’t get away... he turned down every opportunity he had. It was a liberation of sorts to realize... I don’t need him. I definitely don’t need someone who I feel is purposefully misleading me for their own gain, whether its meant viciously or not. I don’t believe it is vicious at all. It just speaks of bigger problems in his life. The ones he’s not willing to face in order to facilitate emotional growth. It used to be, if he felt me drifting, he would do something to pull me back... the hang on... the hope. Some would call that, "having your cake and eating it too." That won’t happen this time. I know now, what I knew last year at this same time but wasn’t strong enough to face. I couldn’t be with him because he isn’t healthy; emotionally he’s a basketcase and even as I was willing to open myself to others in the quest to work through the pain in my life which kept me a train wreck... he hasn’t and chances are, he never will. I’ve worked too hard to be with someone who would rather wallow in their pain instead of working through it. If we’re ever together, those changes would have to happen before and he would have to initiate it. Not me and I'm not waiting. I hate to say this because it sounds conceited and uppity, but, I’ve outgrown him. I’ve transitioned away from him. Although he was the catalyst to a lot of the positive change in my life... he didn’t follow his own advice, nor did he follow me through the portal and I’m not going back. No one could save me and I can’t save him. He knows where I’ve been. He knows where I am now and he knows there’s a difference. If he chooses to make changes, then he does and he knows where to find me if he needs someone to talk to. I’m sure we’ll speak. I’m sure he’ll call or I’ll call him, just to catch up. There won’t be anymore letters though. I don’t feel as though I can share such intimate feelings anymore with someone who won’t give me the time of day to make a comment about them. I believe that over the years, we have discussed the emotions I have poured into the letters I have written him perhaps five times. 13 years. Can you imagine how many words I have written him in 13 years? Since May 27th of this year, I have written 113,000 words on this blog. Some of the letters I wrote to him were 25 pages typewritten. This post at this point is 1,005 words and two typewritten pages. Imagine. Even half of this. Let’s say by the end of the year I have 120,000 words. Even if only half that were written over a year, that’s 780,000 words (at a minimum). 780,000 words, words of my feelings, thoughts... hopes, fears, sadness, rage... happiness. A lot were rants... but some were honest questions... pleading almost for him to be honest with me. To talk to me about us, about where I stood, about where, if anywhere, we were going and 780,000 words later... I still don’t know. Now it doesn’t matter. I always wished someone would come by and pick me up and make me whole again. That someone is me. No one can fix us or change us. It all comes from within. They give us the tools and tell us to fix our own cars. That’s what he did. Sad that he hasn’t used the tools I’ve handed him but I can’t help that, nor change it. There are no tears nor sighs of regret or longing. Our season has passed. That is all.
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    Tuesday, December 14, 2004

    Questions... Questions with Answers

    This was hard work. Reminder to self : NO! Anyway... here we go. Trashman asked: Sex w/blogger 1. Who? 2. How? 3. Why? Inanna answers: Trashman decided to let me off the hook as not having to answer this question. Stop groaning, I'm going to answer it anyway. I told him I would modify it to my own means. There are three bloggers that I would like to get to know better should the opportunity ever present itself. I like many bloggers for many reasons but these three gentlemen stand out as my major crogs due to their intelligence, wit, thoughtfulness, and humorous self-deprecation. In no particular order, they are: (drum roll, not so shocked gasps from the peanut gallery) Michael, Jack and Dastard. Michael asked: Pics of yourself? Audioblog of yourself? Video of yourself? Inanna answers: Ahem. Due to the work involved with Michael's request, his answer will appear below. There will be no video. Esther asked: Do you have any other tattoos? Do you think Michael has a porn fetish? Who would you like to meet? (famous/infamous person) Inanna answers: No, however I'm always in the market. No, he has a NannerPeach fetish. I hear it's a terrible affliction. Ack!! Many, many people (besides bloggers). The entire Romanov family, Joan of Arc, Winston Churchill, Oskar Schindler, Raoul Wallenberg, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, Jesse James (Yep, those are the dead ones) Living - Johnny Depp, Hilary Rodham Clinton, Teresa Heinz Kerry, Jon Bon Jovi, Stephen King, Bill Gates... the list goes on. Celti asked: 1. If you could go back and do it all over again, what major thing would you change and why? 2. Have you ever had a spell backfire on you? Why do you think it did? 3. How did you choose the screen name Inanna Moon? (Had to number her's) 1. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I realize if I change one thing, it changes everything. It would change the person I am and I've finally gotten comfortable with her so I don't want her changing for a while. (See Kate's question about regret). 2. I've never had a spell backfire. 3. Inanna is my patron goddess. From "inanna.virtualave.net" - Inanna makes her descent into the dark realm, kur-nu-gi-a, of her sister, Ereshkigal. Inanna passed the seven portals of kur-nu-gi-a, and at each of the portals she was obligated to remove an item of clothing, until at last she stood before Ereshkigal, totally naked. Ereshkigal fastens on Inanna, and for three days she hangs like a carcass on a hook. Her faithful female companion, Ninshubur ("Queen of the East") whom she warns to go in search of help for her if she does not return, appeals to the god of wisdom, responds to her and sends two creatures to plead with Ereshkigal for Inanna's release. They find Ereshkigal in the process of giving birth. Inanna is restored to life and ascends like the moon after its three days death to assume her place once more as Queen of Heaven. The lesson of this ritual drama for Sumerian culture was the deep realization that death is not inimical to life but an essential aspect of its totality and, indeed, the passageway to a new cycle of life. So her journey into the Netherworld was both a literal and symbolic enactment of a natural world occurrence and its mirror in the human psyche as represented by her earthly representatives: the priestesses of Sumeria. Inanna is seen as the daughter of the sky-god An but is also seen as the daughter of the moon-goddess Ningal and her consort Nanna. Inanna embodies the beliefs I have, namely, that we die many times in our lives, not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. We have the capability to arise from that death, reborn as a new individual, stronger and wiser. One of the symbols associated with her is the moon (that and my Phoebe Moon sister). Additionally, I have worn an eight-pointed star for many years (a symbol of Inanna), not to mention the love of cats (Lions are often portrayed with Inanna) and she is the goddess of fertility, birth, nature, sexuality and war. As a Scorpio, my ruling planets are Mars and Pluto. Mars rules our sexuality and was the God of War. Pluto rules the reproductive system, transformation, regeneration, and rebirth. So... there you go. Zelda asked: 1. (I know its redundant but I want to know) Blogger (besides me) you'd most like to schtook? 2. Blog you read most? 3. Work of fiction you've most enjoyed? Inanna answers: I'll interpret #1 as someone I would like to get into trouble with as opposed to Trashman 's question. I would have to say as far as trouble making, I would have to go with JP or Trashman. Two Scorpios with meanness on the mind is a dangerous thing. Trashman is self-explanatory. 2. As for blogs, look to my sidebar. It cycles as does everything. I normally hit Jay, Steve, Trashman, Jack, Michael, Sloth, Dastard, you, and several others, at least once a day. Others I hit every other day. 3. Harry Potter is high on the list but so is The Wolf's Hour, A Boy's Life, and Swan Song by Robert McCammon. All of Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Patricia Cornwell. Harry Potter and McCammon satisfy my need for magic... King and Koontz for fantasy/horror... Cornwell for my scientific law side. El Sid asked: Why would you? Why wouldn't you? Why didn't you? Inanna answers: I would because I want to. I woudn't because of karmic consequences. I didn't because they wouldn't. AJ asked: 1. Name the chief childhood fear that still makes you queasy as an adult. 2. Who is the most important or famous relative you have (including distant relatives) and why? 3. Why am I such a cool dood?... er... uh.. I mean, Who or what is most responsible for making you, you? Inanna answers: 1. I hate the thought of smothering, for any reason. My brother used to wrap me in a blanket and sit on me as a kid. I hate enclosed spaces and that includes diving in deep water. The pressure the water exerts makes me panic. I cringe when in movies they put anything in or over a character's mouth. Placing your hand over my mouth in anyway is the fastest and easiest way to lose a finger. 2. According to my cousin, we are distantly related to Jonathan Belcher, Governor of Massachusetts Bay, New Hampshire and New Jersey in the 1600's and founder of Princeton University; Winston Churchill, Douglas MacArthur, Franklin D. Roosevelt, John Alden (original passenger on the Mayflower), John Adams, John Quincey Adams, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and yes, Dan Quayle (groan). The last four are descendants of John Alden. Then there's my 8th great-grandmother (Welsh) who was arrested for going to a masquerade ball as a man in the 1700's in Philadelphia. But, honestly, my Ma-Maw was the most influential family member. She was quite a lady, almost as mean as me, but not quite. Strength, determination, a wonderful laugh and faith... that's what she was to me. 3. I am. I am who makes me, me. However, as far as influential individuals who have pushed me forward, giving me the tools to mold myself are AZ, my host parents and my high school German teacher. Kate the Peon asked: 1. What's something you chose not to do that you have regretted? 2. What's something you chose to do that you have regretted? 3. What's something you want to do? Inanna answers: 1 & 2 - I used to regret not dumping Nate's dad in September of 1995 and going after AZ. But then I wouldn't have Nate and his birth was the catalyst for my most intense personal growth. It stings but I feel as though I can't regret anything I have done nor haven't done because it all fits into who I am now. 3. I would like to travel more. Gooch asked: 1. What do you like most and least about your job? 2. Who was your "one who got away"? 3. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? Inanna answers: 1. It sounds altruisitc but I like giving people a voice that normally wouldn't have one. I don't like those same people becoming greedy fucks. 2. AZ 3. I haven't been everywhere I want to go yet, but my best guess would be Germany, Poland, Italy, Turkey, Australia or New Zealand. Mike Peach asked: 1. What is NANNERPEACH? (Because I'm a Peach too.) 2. What is your IQ? 3. What were you doing when I asked this question? Inanna answers: 1. See one of my posts in October titled "All About MJNanPeach." Its a cute but long story. 2. In the 130's. 3. Researching my famous family for AJ. (Glad you stopped by!) tinyhands asked: 1. You are stranded on a desert isle and you can only have one pizza topping. What would it be? 2. There are 4 Wiggles, but you only have three bullets, what do you do? 3. Suppose you have to flee the country unexpectedly, Canada or Mexico? Inanna answers: 1. Cheese 2. I'd shoot three then beat the other one to death with my shotgun. 3. Canada! Cybele asked: 1. Cut or uncut? 2. Boxers or briefs? 3. Granny panties or thong? Inanna answers: I don't discriminate Doesn't matter because they're coming off anyway. Commando Cooter (coming in under the wire) asked: 1. What type of laundry detergent? 2. Beer or wine? 3. How ya doin' Punkin? Punkin answers: 1. Purex 2. Beer 3. I'm doin' just PEACHY baby!!! Keep going. Michael's post is below :-)
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    this is an audio post - click to play
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    My feet... sorta... while hunting and my snack. That's a fig newton on top of the Mountain Dew can. Posted by Hello
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    My hand. Posted by Hello
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    My boobs Posted by Hello
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    Beaded flowers Posted by Hello
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    Unfinished amulet bag. Posted by Hello
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    One of my cats. Posted by Hello
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    My tat. Posted by Hello
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    The Librarian look. Posted by Hello
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    Just me.  Posted by Hello
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    *Yawwwwwn*

    I was up late last night trying to fulfill Michael's request of photographs. I got this free, tiny digital camera that takes decent pics but its kinda tough to take pics of yourself. But I did. *giggle* *snort* Anyway... I posted two new pics to my photoblog as a teaser. (That would be "Punkin Photos" to the left.) One of them is of my tattoo. Be kind. I have answers to your questions. I will have photos. I will have audio. (No video... sorry) Have a sweet Tuesday my punkins. (Pay day and possible bonus day!! Cross fingers!!)
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    Sunday, December 12, 2004

    Recommend, Ask, Pass Along

    I stole this from Ang, whole stole it from Fresc, who stole it from someone at Intellectual Poison. (A) First, recommend to me: 1. a movie 2. a book 3. a musical artist, song, or album (B) Ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want. Answers will be posted this week--great time for strangers to say hi. (C) Then go back to your blog, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything; say that you stole it from me.
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    Friday, December 10, 2004

    MIRACLE - For Savannah

    If you have not read the story of Savannah, please head over to Angi’s blog and catch up. Savannah received a liver. What a wonderful holiday blessing for her family, yet somewhere we know that another family is mourning the loss of their beloved child. I signed my first organ donor card when I was 12. I don’t remember the exact circumstances but I did send away for the information and signed the donor card and informed my parents. They were a bit skeptical, as my parents are, but I continued to make my wishes known. Finally, within the past year and a half, when my mom got her driver’s license renewed, she had them put the organ donor symbol on it. I was very proud. I know two people who received new kidneys. One actually received two; one from a living donor (her mother) and one from a deceased donor. Sadly, she threw away her opportunities and eventually died from kidney rejection due to drug use. The other received a kidney due to damage from diabetes and is still running around and kicking up her heels. Yet, my high school friend, ME, lost her mother due to kidney failure because they could not find a donor. Another friend, CH, lost her dad because a bone marrow donor could not be found. When CH and her family found out her father had a particularly fast moving and deadly form of leukemia, they were all immediately tested and none matched. They then had a bone marrow donor drive to try and find a match. This is when I was tested ($25 test fee) and placed on the National Bone Marrow Program Registry. I am conceited enough, and gladly so, that I believe my blood is special. I believe yours is too. Minorities, bi-racial and tri-racial groups are always in demand. Interesting twists in genetics (mine: French/Irish/African/Jewish/ Turkish/ Native American) can bring the most unlikely of people together. If you have not read the story of Nicholas Green, please do so. His family inspired a country. I am inspired by each and every family who makes the difficult, or perhaps, not so difficult choice, to donate their loved one’s organs. My cousin’s family was faced with this not too long ago. Niki’s brother-in-law was considerably younger at the age of 12. One day he went to his mom and told her that if anything were to happen to him that he wanted his organs donated. They talked about it and his mother agreed to honor his wishes should the unthinkable happen. Kai was a very mature, insightful young man and I thought the world of him because he was so kind and patient with Nate. The unthinkable happened though. Kai awoke with a headache one morning and his Mom took him to the doctor; they gave him some medicine and sent him home. That afternoon, Kai was lying on the couch watching TV when he suddenly rolled off the couch onto the floor. He died of an aneurysm from an undetected brain tumor. Thinking of Kai makes me ... happy ... because I remember what a wonderful young man he was. I cannot stress what a peaceful beautiful person he was. I loved being around him and his family. I also get very teary-eyed and a great big lump forms in my throat at knowing that 1) His family is without him and his presence, although I’ve been told his spirit visits quite often, and I wonder how they are doing during this holiday season, for the first time in twelve years, without Kai and 2) because of his maturity and selflessness and knowing that his and their gift has made the difference in many lives. I’m a hypocrite though. I don’t give blood. No, I wouldn’t mind them sticking a twelve inch needle in my hip to withdraw marrow, but don’t get those other needles anywhere near me. SHAME ON ME!!! I promise, and you guys hold me to this, that I will take the plunge, or the prick, or the stick, and I’m going to give blood by December 25th. Who’s with me? Please, all I ask is that you educate yourself about organ donation and, if you’re so inclined, sign the card... check the box on your driver’s license... tell your family... tell your friends. If you see of a bone marrow drive in your area (its often cheaper for testing), educate yourself and if you believe you have what it takes to follow through with the whole twelve inch needle, discomfort, etc... then get tested. Add your name to the people willing to save a life. From "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
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    Thursday, December 09, 2004

    WHERE IS JACK?

    No, not our Jack. Its this Jack. Jack Whittaker. You don’t know Jack Whittaker?? He’s the beleaguered winner of the Powerball Lottery who just can’t stop making headlines all over the United States. AZ called me last night and told me that his graphics company is marketing a T-shirt. I checked the website this morning and they’re still trying to get all the pics up. The front of the shirt says, "Where is Jack?" and has Jack’s signature Stetson on it and a phone number for the WV Lottery. The back of the shirt has a picture of Jack on a milk carton. It was the lead story on the local news channels and there’s a chance that AP may pick the story up to. Just remember you heard it here first. And, at $10.00, the shirts are more than affordable, even with $3.95 shipping. I asked AZ what the charge for personal delivery would be. I’m not sure what it meant when he started diabolically laughing. Any ideas ;-)
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    Wednesday, December 08, 2004

    STEP. AWAY. FROM. THE BEADS

    And no one will get hurt. I have numerous projects ongoing at this time due to my fascination with torturing myself, sleepless nights, callouses and bleeding. Yes. Beading. As if making intricate necklaces with loops and dangles and nets wasn’t enough (that’s one of the 3/4 finished projects (ahem... Zelda)) then I just HAD to learn how to make those nifty beaded flowers. OI! Or OY! Whichever. (Yiddish, in honor of Hanukkah) I came up with the bright idea, after I was able to make a rose, to make a small bouquet for my host family. Time frame, time frame, time frame. It has to be finished by... oh say... Friday. That will give it two weeks to get where its going. The problem with making these roses is, you just don’t make the roses. You have to make the sepals (that’s the little petals underneath the bloom) and then leaves and baby’s breath. Uh huh. So, I got one done last night and I started working at 5:30. Okay, its not completely done, it still needs the leaves. The other one I started wasn’t a complete rose. I’m making it a bud. Yes, cheating, cheating, cheating... deal. But it still needs sepals, and leaves, and that fucking baby breath!! I’ll be making a lot of leaves tonight. But since the bud vase is small I won’t need as many. Oh, did I mention that I’m beading a cover for the bud vase? Its called "bottle" or "vessel" beading. I’m a glutton I tell ya. Did I mention I’ve never done this type of beading before?? Yeah. I’m nuts. I’m crazy. If I’m able to pull this off though... see the netting for the bud vase will be in red, white and blue. The roses are red, black and yellow. The colors of the American and German flags, respectively. Clever girl, aren’t I? Not really. When I lived in Germany I had my 18th birthday and my Papa made a huge number 18 for my cake from thin wood and then decorated the "eight" as the American flag and the "one" as the German flag. I still have them somewhere. Ah, well, my other projects. How about three blooming cacti?? The fekkin blooms have three continuous loops of green, eight continuous loops of yellow (which are not difficult, I got five done this morning in about 10 minutes once I figured out how many beads per inch I needed) but then I have to make another 22 FEKKIN PETALS and that’s JUST FOR THE BLOOM!!!! (Not hard either after I figured out, again, what the fuck I was doing since the instructions SUCK!) It had better be the hardest part. I think things will go much easier when I start the actual leaf thingys to make the cactus itself. Those are for my bosses so technically I have until December 23rd. Oh, what else??? Oh, still have to put the connectors on Nate’s sis’s necklace. And Sissy wants a daisy pin. And I forgot Cooter’s bracelet again this morning.... grrrrrrrrrr. And, if I have time, I want to make my mom a beaded African violet to go with the pin and earrings I made her. And I still have to make the boys their medicine pouches!!! Ahhhhhh!!!! Okay, calm. I’m going to loom their names so I’m not tooooo concerned about how much time that will take me. Sew together... put a string through the top... loom names... glue, sew, done. Right? Right???? Then I would like to do something really nice for Nate’s teacher but she may just have to wait until after the holidays!!! And then there’s blogging. My head is spinning. Trying to remember who I have and have not read. I’ll go to Jay’s and see Leese and realize I’ve neglected her so I run to CA and visit Jeanette while I’m there and that reminds me of Kristin so I run to TX and then I’m in Boston with Sloth and Dastard, then I’m back to CA to check on Mike and then to TN for AJ, and then NC for Sid, and GA for Regan and then I realize I missed Aimee on the West Coast and then its back to TX to visit Jack... oh, and I have to go say good morning and smooch Trashman, then its off the Midwest to see if Katey is around, then I realize I’ve been neglecting Tsarina, then I’m off to Canada to visit the Countess, then that reminds me I have to stop by South Africa to visit Esther, ACK!! Then I forgot about Catt so I run by to VA, oh and while I’m back on the East Coast I gotta swing by Angi’s place in NC... back to the midwest to check on Seeker... where the feckin’ hell is he anyway? Moving? Gone? And while I’m there I swing by Celti’s and Cooter’s... oh shit, but I forgot Gooch, back to CA, and then I’ll swing North and catch up with Vicki, JP and Vader... crap!! What are Zelda and Jethro into this week? Back to TX... then I want to catch up with Sean and tinyhands... sigh... oh wait and Kat in FL and feck!! Did I just forget Jamie... NOOOO!!! Say it isn’t so!!!! Shit! Did I forget to read Steve this morning? (Shit... I know I’m forgetting someone or ones.) No wonder I’m tired!!! This is also to say, with all of this beading and traveling around, I may just pop in and out and not say much or I might miss you for a few days but I’ll be back around. And if you come by my place, which you already are if you’re reading this... move a cat, have a seat, the beer is on the porch (don’t ask) and please... don’t touch the beads.
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    Monday, December 06, 2004

    Captain, We're Stalling

    Sgt. Lizzie Sgt. Lizzie was stalled in the line of duty for her country. As in the previous post, send her some blog love. Plus, I believe she could still use a front tooth. If anyone has an extra, please overnight it to somewhere in Iraq. (She’s pretty self-deprecating so don’t think I’m terrible.) Beading I’m stalled on Michael’s project. I started it and then didn’t like how the beads looked. Wrong colors, not matching like I wanted. Sorry Mike, I scrapped it. I will have to re-order beads from a different company. I have one of their brochures and they look much better. *sigh* Love Life I was so tired Saturday I didn’t go out to see Jim, I passed on my female encounter and AZ didn’t show. I realized that I’m not so much unhappy as I am lonely. Which is a different state of being for me. I enjoy my solitude but this is getting ridiculous. My mother took the opportunity on Saturday to remind me that my brother is getting fixed on December the 10th (Let us all mourn his Republican swimmers... NOT!) and chose to remind me that "Its all up to you now." See my "DIP!" post for more details. Money I wish someone would realize that if I had more money I could do a lot more good for people. When I get money or have extra, have a windfall, something, which is not often, I grease the palms of someone else. I donate to charity or give a friend a few bucks who I know is having a hard time. Funny what $20 can do for a person. Normally I donate to The American Cancer Assoc., The American Diabetes Assoc., or the Alzheimers Foundation. This year I’m adopting a bunch of hot men in the Middle East... err, that means an Army unit somewhere in Iraq that I found on Anysoldier.com. I may not be able to send much and Nate may get one less toy but so what? Their lives are on the line and the unit I’m adopting doesn’t receive very much correspondence and practically no packages. WHERE’S THE LOVE??? Leveling off at 25,000 feet I have made my SIL’s, Nate’s sister’s and my mom’s Christmas gifts. I didn’t want to make my Mom a necklace she would never wear so as I was leafing through my bead book and came across beaded flowers. ( You use beading wire/beads and then fold it into petals and leaves) I made her a brooch and matching earrings of African violet blooms. I may add another few petals to the brooch. If I had the extra money I would get the floral tape and different gauge wires and attempt to make her a bouquet. By the time I figure that out, it should be Mother’s Day. Clueless... As to why my blog is messed up. Blogger still shows me as having 198 posts and I know I passed that forever ago. I dunno. I thought about changing my template, then realized I would lose everything and said, "naaahhhh." I’m just too lazy to transfer all my perks. Nose Dive Got some bills in over the weekend. They will effectively kill my bank account and all the money I had set aside for Nate's Christmas gifts. I may have enough, then again, he may have to do without some things at my house. He won't do without. He has his dad's, Aimee and her mom (that's his sis), both sets of grandparents, four uncles, my host family (who always sends a little something), etc. I just like having a decent Christmas at my house too. Bonus No word, but we settled five cases last week for an accumulative $400,000 give or take $10,000. We have another settling this week. The pay won't be much but we will get a lot back in expenses which is very, very helpful. Cross fingers. My trip to Germany is definitely a no-go as the prices jumped on December the 3rd from $700 to over $1000 per ticket. :-( Sucks. But hey, it could be worse. It could always be worse. Just remember that... IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE. Leveling off again... coming in for a landing. Call the ball. Its a ball!!!
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    Spread the Love

    Found at Sean's place (Doc in the Box) that one of the Milbloggers was wounded in the line of duty by an IED. The driver was killed. Please go by her blog and spread some love. Her blog sounds really interesting and I'm looking forward to looking over her previous posts.
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    Sunday, December 05, 2004

    DIP!

    Yay! I finally had/have dip! Nate and I made 7 layer dip on Tuesday. Actually, his was 3 layer and mine was 5 (I'm not real crazy about green onions or black olives) and then today I made it again but left off the tomatoes on my side. I found this awesome guacamole recipe that is soooo much better than any mix you could buy. The blend of flavors in my dip is won-der-ful! YUM! Okay, no deer yesterday. I was out practically all day. My dad and I went out late in the evening and we still came up empty. Oh well, next weekend is muzzleloader... I'm not done yet. My mom told me my brother is getting fixed on the 10th of December. (Can we all say... WHOO HOO!!!) Yeah. I thought not. Anyway, so then me Mum says, "Now its all up to you." What's up to me? "If there's going to be anymore granchildren they'll have to come from you." Heh. Don't hold your breath. "Just... if you get married later in life please don't have a baby at 40." Mother, I'll do what I want. "Hmpf! Haven't you always?" How did this happen? How was I born to this family? Switched at birth??? *Sigh* Remember the Ex-Drunk Boyfriend? The one who was being held in jail in VA? The DNA evidence came back that it was him. (He was in blackout/drunk mode and said he didn't remember anything) He confessed, threw himself on the mercy of the Court. The Court was merciful. 70 years, eligible for parole in 13. He'll be 41 years old. He's 28 now. Nate will be 21. Hard to imagine. I think he got what he deserved. He beat and raped a young woman and has changed her life forever. But.... what really bothers me, is this; the man who raped him at the age of 8 is still walking around a free man. The man who changed him for life is not suffering such consequences. And if you think what happened to the Ex at the age of 8 has nothing to do with the person he is now.... you need to study the affects of untreated sexual abuse on children. Plus, it probably didn't help that he had to look at the man for his entire childhood. It was his dad. Yep. His mom didn't find out for 10 years and when she did, she did nothing. Now, isn't that a way to show your children how much they mean to you. One parent gets drunk and fucks you up the ass and then when the other one finally finds out, they do nothing. They still SLEEP AND FUCK THE SAME MAN WHO FUCKED THEIR SON!!!! Nasty. However, the Ex had many, many opportunities to deal with this with professional help and he didn't. That is his fault But, I've never been there. I don't know what it feels like as a child or where you would even start. The whole thing just bothers... just really bothers me. Anyway, no, AZ did not come over last night. I wasn't holding my breath. I drank a beer, read a little then passed out face down on the bed at the wrong end. I was tired and sore from hunting all day. But hey, when I woke up this morning I had three men in the bed with me... Smokey, Ozzy and Napoleon. Meow.
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    Friday, December 03, 2004

    AZ Called

    I was in bed early last night because I was exhausted. I was drifting around in La-La Land when the phone rang at 8:55. In my mind I said, "That's AZ." Yep. I was a little bit groggy and he asked if I was okay and I just told him I was really tired and it had been a very long week. He said he had a week of Mondays himself. AZ: I got your letter. Inanna: I figured. AZ : I HAD NO IDEA! I : Yeah, I figured that out today too. I forgot since I was being nice when I dumped Lex that I didn't tell you how bad he treated me because he was your friend. AZ: Hmmm... (Various bitches, gripes, groans and observations follow) AZ: I've noticed he pushes people away. I: Bingo and he'll be alone for the rest of his life unless he realizes that everyone gets hurt, you deal, you move on. AZ: I know. Hey, I'm sorry about your kitten. I: Thanks. She wasn't going to make it. Just happened at the most inopportune moment. (Talk about our pets insues) I: I told you I'm making beaded jewelry, you should stop by and see some of it. Maybe.. (cuts me off) AZ: I thought I'd catch up with you this weekend. (Said quickly) I: *pause* *pause* Sure. I'll be around. AZ: Well, I have to call one of my former renters back about his deposit and he's just going to make me mad so I want to walk the dog first. Do not walk the dog mad. (Makes reference to "Groundhog Day" about not driving mad.) (We laugh, say good bye, hang up) I contemplate what he said... briefly, then I lay down and sleep like a baby and know there's nothing I can do other than, let it flow.
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    Wednesday, December 01, 2004

    Are You Ready To Rumble?

    No hello. No dear. Just the title above on the letter I sent to AZ. I wanted to confront him in person but I was so mad and hurt I was afraid I couldn't have gotten anything out of my mouth other than "fucktard," "fuckwad," and "fucker." On the back of the envelope I put, "What do you say to an angry witch?" and below that I put, "Ribbit." Hee hee... just a little pagan humor but also fair warning. I'm still fired up. I asked T-Bird, "Guess who called me?" She said, "Lex?" I said, "Yeah, and AZ. Together." She gave me a look and said, "Oh, I gotta hear this." She did. Anyway. I was going to post about something that irked me. Other than the aforementioned asshats. Its this lyric: Like I need to defend my own innocence So what, I did it, I admit it, and I'm pleading the 5th This is from Nickelback's new CD, the song is "Flat On The Floor." Sigh. I love this song. Its hard and raw. But that damn fekkin lyric irks the shit out of me. YOU CAN'T ADMIT IT AND THEN PLEAD THE 5TH!!!! The "5th" is in reference to the 5th Amendment to the Constitution. The Fifth Amendment actually entails four separate rights. One of those rights is that you may not be compelled in a criminal matter to testify against yourself. The Sixth Amendment gives us the "you have a right to an attorney" sing-song-and-dance, made famous by Miranda vs. Arizona (although for some reason in the Miranda case the Supreme Court states its the Fifth Amendment which gives you that right, although it states, perfectly clear in the Sixth Amendment, that you have a right to counsel. Whatever.) Anyway. The song is just wrong. The lyrics are catchy but they're wrong. I can't help it. It hurts me inside because I would have Chad Kroger's babies!!! I do have to cut him a little slack, he is, after all, Canadian, and perhaps familiar with the term "pleading the 5th" but doesn't actually understand, you know, what it fucking means. If you sit on the stand and say, "I did it. I admit it," you just confessed. You can't take the Fifth because you just incriminated yourself. Maybe he did know, and he didn't care. Maybe he knew and he thought he would drive one paralegal from WV out of her mind because she would like nothing more than to tell him to 'change that goddamn lyric, its killing me.' If I ever met Chad Kroger, do you know that in the face of danger and almost certain death I would most likely NOT be able to keep my mouth shut about that, which would probably ruin any chance of having his babies? This has been a long week.
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