After 700 Posts...

It's time to find a new home. I find myself becoming as personal as I probably ever have around here with more to lose, therefore, I have set up a Wordpress account and am in the process of moving "Anything Goes" to her new home. Some posts will be password protected, but probably not all. I will e-mail those of you I have addresses for but if I miss you or if I don't even know who you are, you may e-mail me at nanner.peach@gmail.com for further instructions. My new blog home will be blackpunkin.wordpress.com. This post will self-destruct in 5 seconds. Good luck.

Read the Manual

When one gets a cell phone one should read the owner’s manual instead of attempting to have their daughter interpret symbols she cannot see. But thank goodness for my parents’ trip to Maine they invested in a cell phone. My Mo was complaining because she said the phone hadn’t been activated. I told her I would call the number to see if it would ring in. She could hear my house phone ringing her cell phone but the cell phone wasn’t ringing. She said, "See, this thing isn’t working, it just isn’t working, why isn’t it working?" I said, "Well, is it powered up correctly?" "Oh, well, no, it’s not on" "Mom, turn the phone on." *Sigh* "I don’t understand what this button does. It says "settings" and then it says "silent" and "meeting" and "normal," what does that mean?" "That is how you set how you want your phone to ring." "Well, which one do I want?" "Normal." "Well, what is this line with the line through it?" "I don’t know, Mom. Did you read the manual?" "I really haven’t had time." "You really need to read the manual, Mom." *Sigh* ... and hour and a half later... "Mom, you may not have service out there in the mountains *BFE!*" "But, I gave them my zip code and that is how they are tracking my minutes." "That doesn’t mean that you have service." "But, they did it by my zip code." *Banging head against keyboard* "I still don’t know what this line with a line through it is." "Mom, maybe you should just read the manual." "Well, I’m just going to have to get out my magnifying glass to read the instructions. They print them too small." "Mom, have a great trip."

Everything is OK

AZ has returned. I spoke to him last night and this morning. He seems tired but in an evened out decent mood. No finger pointing has ensued and I just feel better knowing he's back even though I was wondering if I would be. Relationships are complicated. I had a job interview on Friday and I have another one tomorrow. Although the peeps seemed nice, although highly Republican, the thought of moving from one sit down job to another is just almost too much to bear. Not that I've ever been cut out for a desk job, but as I get older the more kinetic I seem to become. And set in my ways. I can sit for hours and bead or write, but I'm also free to smoke and play loud music and move around if I so desire. I think that is it. I like to move around a lot. I always have. I'm constantly up and down. Aside from all of the problems I faced last week, I felt much better doing sales and pulling t-shirts and basically, running my ass off. I'm happier, freer, and more confident. I really have to give this some thought...

Der Ain't Nuttin' In the World

Like a tequila drunk. Best damn drunk on the planet. just ask my Texiss friends. That is "Texiss." I spelled it right, shut up. Me, and Kevin, that's the head printer, and his girlfriend, Terri, wo is kind enough to pull shirts out fo the dryer for us, decided that my offer of a a margarita was too good to pass up. Not to mention our Texiss fajitas, pronounced as "fa-hee-tees." That is West Virginia Mexican. fa-hee-tees. So, I talked to the ole Master and Commander today. That would be fuckin' AZ, for those not paying attention, I need to be fucking nicer but I been mad since that mofo told me I told him that fuckin' order worng. What the fuck ever. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Goddamn he hurt my feelings. mother fucker. I hate when he does htat. I told the son of abithc Id sell the fuckin' shirts. I said., "Do you trust me?" And for that fuckin' lackidaisial, unconvincing, half0hearted, mumbled "yes" i would have prefered he said, fuck no. Puhleasse. He don't trust anyfuckingbody. And it's his own damn fault. I fuckin' hate it. He has skills, mad 6th sense skills and he still trusts the wrong fuckers... what the fuck? I mean, WHAT THE FUCK??? FUCK THAT SHIT!!! FUCK THAT NOISE!!! I told yall the mofo didn't get the checks out on time, right? Yeha, so ya know, I've been there. I've needed money, I depend on my paycheck, so this morning, ya know, I call and ask, yo, do ya''ll need any money to help get you throuh the weekend? Only one did so I wrote a check out of my personal account. Fuck it. I figure fuck, he'll pay me back, I know the fuckin' boss. In myview, as the fuckin' quasi, fuckedup office manager, it may be my business to make sure my workers want to show up on Monday! AZ,well he told me he didn't want me floating that money, blah, blah fuckin' blah, WTF ever. I told him, it was, ya know, a special circumstance, it's not going to happen every week and it fuckin' sure as hell is not like I used his fuckin' money. I did it out of the goodness fo my fuckin' heart. He said he had asked the computer guy to drop by and give out some cash, okay, fine and fuckin' dandy, but he didn't tell me that shit. Fuck that noise. When I talked to the computer guy I told him what AZ said and he's like, "who else is supposed to take care of this?" As in, AZ really needed to get his head out of his ass. I coulnd't agree more. I understand but I don't understand. All I know is, the mother fucker ahs been pretty critical of how I've handled things. Well, I did the best I could given the fact I was hog tied, blindfolded, had cotton stuffed in my nouth and dropped into a hot vat o greese. I can't believe he had the nerve to tell me I had trust issues... pot. kettle .black. Look in the mirror asshole. Not to mention, I still fuckin' love him... ya'll know fo rsure now, I'm nuts. Crazy as a bedbug. whatever, I' drunk. I'm goin' ta bed.

Mojo Risin'

I know, two posts in one night... Just as an aside. . . remember how I’ve said that Sailor Boy and Mr. Catholic always make fun of my religion? Well, last Friday, Sailor Boy and I were trading barbs because there is only so much I can take before I start getting snarky and hateful. He tossed out a challenge. If I were so "tight" with my spirits and the Summerland world, then I should put my money where my mouth is and use my mojo to get him a new job. I said, Fine, Sailor Boy, and if I do, then you keep your trap shut about my religion for the rest of the time that we work together. Fine, two weeks, Gypsy Girl. Deal is done. Before I left today, Sailor Boy had two interviews, one for something he didn’t even apply for. I’d say that’s pretty damn good. Mojo takes time but I put in an express order. Then he had the audacity to ask, "Can’t you do something about the Prosecutor’s job? I really want that one." I said, "Damn, boy! ASK WITH SPECIFICITY NEXT TIME! You said, ‘A job, not A JOB AT THE PROSECUTOR’S OFFICE!’" I tossed this over my left shoulder to test the spiritual waters. My spirits sighed and rolled their eyes but flitted off. Now, why would I stir the spirits up like that? As I explained to Myra, maybe it will open some eyes. It may not change the world and may not even change how Sailor Boy feels, but, it may make him think and be more tolerant. Perhaps it will draw him closer to his own faith. Perhaps he will be able to see the power of positive thinking, the power of intention, the power of creative visualization, and the power of simply believing there is more to the other side than we could ever imagine. Not to mention, it was totally worth it to slither up next Sailor Boy and say, "Mojo risin’, baby... mojo risin’."

My Fabulous Life

I have a headache. Today his name is AZ. CAN ANYTHING ELSE GO WRONG?? Don’t answer that. Please don’t answer that. I have a been a paralegal for 9 years. I have been a writer for 25 years. Both require a certain attention to detail. It is my life. It is my personality. I work with lawyers and paralegals, who also carry these traits. I forget that others do not. Last Friday we were trying to call in an order when we discovered that the size smalls did not come in 50/50, only 100% cotton. This is what precipitated the call from me to the ad agency to determine if, per my understanding, they would accept 100% for the smalls. Yes, they would. My fault was thinking that AZ would remember this conversation or that I had understood him correctly or that he understood me correctly. I don’t know. Either way, when I talked him during the chaos that was our Wednesday, he believed that they had accepted 100% FOR THE ENTIRE ORDER. So, now, I have 138 shirts which, while the right color, are the wrong fiber content. No, they cannot be returned. Would anyone care for some 100% cotton maroon shirts in varying sizes (M to 2XL)??? Anyone? And no, the client wants the 50/50 even though the dye lots are assured to be wrong and the smalls will be a different shade of maroon. While he didn’t yell, scream, or cuss, AZ stated that I did not specify the fiber content. Frankly, I think I did. I know in the e-mail I did and if I’m not mistaken, although I could be, I also reminded him over the phone yesterday or maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough. Either way, I’m steamed. I’m steamed because we now have 138 maroon shirts that we cannot use and cannot return. I’m steamed because I’m being blamed for this fuck up whenever I’m only willing to take 50% of the blame and the reason for that is that if AZ had left the fucking credit card so that we could order while he was away instead of depending on calling cards and shoddy cell and Internet service, this most definitely would not have happened. Okay, one bitten, twice shy and all that other shit. Blow me. Not to mention, he’s not ordering anything until Monday so I then had to call the ad agency back again and tell them their order would not be ready until the middle of next week. The shop resembles a warehouse making it much harder to circulate the 100 degree air. AZ missed the FedEx pick up in BF-NC so payroll will be late. Did I mention he’ll be hand delivering those sometime late Saturday? Yeah, he’s coming back a day early. Hoo-rah. If you see fireworks from the general direction of WV Saturday evening, you’ll know what happened. Enjoy the show.

And... The Plot Thickens

At 12:42 this afternoon, I received a call from the shop informing me that some money had been stolen. While it was not a grossly large sum, $81.00, it was still our money. Well, all but $45 was our money, the rest belonged to our PC repair guy. I had no idea we even had any money on the premises. Most of the time, we invoice our contractor or promotional company or funds are collected and deposited the same day. First, I talked to the aforementioned Incompetent Employee and then the Head Printer who called me from his home. (He has the crud that is going around). I left work early to deal with the situation. Both guys asked that I not "bother" AZ with this latest pile of shit. I said I wouldn’t call him right off until I had a better understanding of what had happened. Head Printer suggested that we meet at 4:00 to discuss the situation but he strongly felt we should file a police report. I agreed. Regardless, I was at the shop by two, AZ was on the phone by 2:40 and the police had arrived by 3:15. When AZ called I told him that I was already at the shop. Printing had ground to halt because we had ran out of shirts on the 15,000 piece, artwork for other smaller jobs was being burned on the screens, we had shirts that we didn’t know what to do with, and I had other questions. I then told him that the reason I was at the shop early was because someone had stolen some money from the drawer. To me, not telling him would have just been a lie of omission, something I’m not willing to do. I don’t care if he’s on vacation. Sometimes shit just happens. He responded calmly, wanting to know why there was money there to start with. I told him all that I knew and when I suggested filing a police report, he concurred. He gave me some further instructions, telling me he would call me later. He didn’t lie. We were back on the phone as the officer, actually the one who was with Jeff when he found out I was pregnant with Nate, pulled up to the side entrance. I filed the report and it will be referred to the detective bureau. I can’t really speculate at this time what happened to the money. First, any of our money should not have even been there. It should have been given to me to deposit, yeah, if only they had known I had the deposit book. Regardless, someone should have taken it out of the office and not left it overnight. Even the PC repair guy’s money should have been carried out and returned the following day. My first and most major question is... if Mr. Incompetent discovered the money missing between 9:30 and 10:00, why did it take him two hours and 42 minutes to call me? Questions. Questions without answers. AZ issued an edict, via me, no more money is to be left in the office. Head Printer is distraught but came in at 4:00 and was still working as of 9:00. I am disappointed and exhausted. We have over 13,000 shirts arriving tomorrow. Hoorah.

FUCK MY BREATHING!

As much as I love the guys at the shop, there is one that I want to choke almost on a daily basis. I try to remember that he really isn’t himself due to various medical problems and ensuing medications. I try really, really hard. However, after busting my ass for two days trying to keep things running smoothly and telling him at least twice that I had a confirmation to change an order AND writing down the confirmation so he could tell AZ when he called back, I was livid when he called me back and told me that AZ told him to call me since I was the one who was supposed to confirm the order change. I lost my temper. I yelled into the phone. I reminded him that I had told him twice AND had written it down that the order change had already been confirmed AND that he was supposed to tell AZ that it had been confirmed and give him the order OVER THE PHONE SO THE FUCKING T-SHIRTS COULD BE ORDERED TOMORROW!!!! This is when he decides to open his eyes and click on the little part that reads, "literacy," and reads where I had written it down. "Oh, yeah, you did write it down." DOH!! DOH!! DOH!! Let’s put aside the fact that our boss is AZ. I don’t care if it is AZ or Guy #3, I do not like being portrayed as someone who has not done what they are supposed to do, especially given the very, very, VERY FUCKING TIGHT DEADLINE WE ARE UNDER RIGHT NOW!!! Now, multiply that by TEN because our boss is, in fact, AZ. I take AZ’s trust in me very serious, in case that wasn’t obvious. Not just because, under the right circumstances, I am a kick ass employee. I do not slack, I run full steam. But also because the man that is my boss I also happen to be kick ass IN LOVE WITH. Not to mention, that given the relatively small number of people I have contacted, I’m taking the shit for what other’s deem as incompetence on the part of said employee, not to mention the snide remarks about phone calls not being returned promptly by AZ. Hence why I said yesterday that human beings are foul creatures. Perhaps it was nasty, but foul will work too. Have I mentioned how far behind I am on my beading? I am very far behind and having hand cramps last week and Nate for two weekends in a row has pretty much ... yeah, I’m not happy. Having Nate is one thing, hand cramps are another. My hands are my life. I did finally get a bead order out only then to discover, I forgot a color. I looked at the diminished quantity in the vial, calculated rapidly in my head and said, "Oh, yeah, I really do need those." Fuck.

PANIC! ALIENS! UNK-NOWN! OH MY!

I’m not panicked. Not at all. I just find myself not knowing what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know any of the prices. Bob was AWOL this evening. Kevin doesn’t know. AZ is gone. And I need to work up two quotes. Lovely. Just fucking lovely. I’ve also forgotten what wretched beings humans are. Take me out of customer service for five months and somehow I’ve forgotten what nasty, condescending assholes people can be. Nasty, I tell you, nasty. No worries. Nanner smiled and got her full metal jacket out of the cleaners. Tally ho! Though honestly, so far, so good. Although, there is that issue of all the shirts that need ordered... and the artwork that hasn’t been delivered... and those other 15,000 shirts... and the artwork that has to be submitted for work up... and the missing photocopy (which I’m sure is with AZ in NC - *ahem* *growl*)... and the alien abduction which has resulted in this rather interesting arroyo in my head that I have never noticed before, therefore will be chalked up to alien abduction... and the phone call at 4:50 a.m. Oh yes, the 4:50 call. You see, I awoke Sunday morning to a "missed call" on my cell phone. "Unknown" it said. (Which should be pronounced UNK-nown, just because... play along children). Since I have practically the entire phonebook from 10 states and beyond (remember... alien abduction) and since no call has EV-AH come up on my phone "UNK-nown," it occurred to me that a some certain someone, someone who has a habit of rising extremely early in the morning *cough*AZ*cough, and who was out of town and wouldn’t have an opportunity at another time, especially on a weekend, to make such a call, or rather, EXPLAIN making such call... yeah, well... I figured it was him. AZ, not the alien. And, how odd, out of the eight phone calls I received today, only one said, "UNK-nown," and it happened to be from the one person who called me using a calling card since he is out of town. 4:50. Good Lord and Lady, the man hadn’t even been gone 24 hours! I really must wipe this smug look off of my face... the aliens may leave another arroyo. Bad Nanner. BAD. NANNER.

Virgo Moon

My moon is in Virgo, which represents that emotionally, I’m analytical. It drives me nuts. When under stress, I analyze. I seek, I search, I ruminate. Sometimes, I’m so busy, I don’t have the opportunity to do that. I like it. Things flip through my brain with amazing speed and while I still analyze to a degree, I don’t ruminate like I used to. I like it. When I am busy, it forces me to switch gears from thinking to feeling. I like it. I like it a lot. I have found a much greater peace from feeling instead of thinking. I feel more confident, more sure of myself, more sure of the decisions that I make. I don’t feel at war with myself. I am at peace. Perhaps it is the greater confidence in myself which has been pushed forward by AZ. Not just professionally, but also in our friendship/relationship. After 46 text messages over a period of a month, most of them saying "good morning" or "good night," which normally precipitated a phone call from one to the other, he said, "You know, you can call me. . ." Now, instead of text messaging him that I am awake, I call him at the station. Now, instead of text messaging me that he’s about to go to sleep, he calls me. After multitudes of voice messages, I don’t leave one anymore because I know he’ll see my number and call me. This is evidenced by the fact there were two messages from me in the 34 messages on his phone. I was a bit surprised that he allowed me to listen to his voice messages. That just seemed like such a personal thing. From the voice messages, he made us each a list of people to call. I have several things at the shop that need to be accomplished and it feels good. I also know that he’s feeding me leads to follow up on so he has an excuse to pay me for them. He doesn’t know that I know that, he didn’t tell me that, but I know it serves a two-fold purpose - it frees up the time he would spend on it (most sales take a minimum of five follow ups) and it gives him an excuse to pay me commission. More than anything, I know he trusts me. AZ can be exceptionally anal and controlling over his enterprise. He realizes what can happen, he has seen what can happen, when the wrong people have control over things. He’s once bitten, twice shy. Perhaps he also realizes that I’m a fish out of water and the world of sales is new to me, as is actually managing an office, although I have all the skills but none of the practical experience. And, I’m working double-time so instead of throwing a lot of shit on me at once, he’s easing me into it. Perhaps it is that I’m ambitious. When he expressed doubt that we could handle the 15,000 piece job, plus the other smaller jobs, I told him, in no uncertain terms, those jobs would be done, done well, and done on time. Period. So far, this has been the best thing to happen to us. We’re more relaxed with each other. When he got mad because one of our wholesalers had sent the wrong color shirts, he kicked in the filing cabinet. I heard about it later from the guys and when I talked to him that night, I said, "I heard you had a run in with one of the filing cabinets. Did it kick you, baby?" He answered ruefully, "Yeah, and I kicked it right back." Yes, he’s well known for his fits against inanimate objects and he’s also known to be curt and rude but only to those who let him get by with it. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no fear of him and have absolutely no tolerance for rude behavior directed at me. He must know that too, because he treats me like the Goddess I am. On the other hand, he’s still dating someone else (although it feels as though we’re the ones who are dating). He’s with her and her family at the beach right now. I can’t say that I’m thrilled, I can’t say that I’m totally jealous, I can’t say that I wish 100% that he hadn’t gone because I know how much he was looking forward to this time with his mom as well. That, I would not take away from him. It’s hard though. Especially when I ruminate, when I wonder what will happen when he comes home, when I think about what is and what might be. It’s when I think that I doubt, when I doubt I get anxious, when I get anxious I lose confidence, when I lose confidence I lose momentum. When I feel, I know, when I know, I relax, when I relax, I am my true self, when I’m my true self, I can accomplish anything. I know it sounds cheesy but AZ really is the wind beneath my wings. He doesn’t tell me I can do things, he doesn’t tell me I can accomplish things, he believes I can and therefore I believe in myself. But, he’s been here. His voice has been on the phone, his eyes have looked at me, his hands have touched me, and right now, I feel a little lost. I just have to remember that he’s with me. The wind still blows and he still believes. T-Bird and I have this thing where we say, "Miss me!" and the other responds, "Okay, miss me!" Out of habit, I did that to AZ Friday night. I said,"Miss me!" And he responded, "I will." My darling, if you only knew. If you only knew how much I already miss you...

*YAWN*

Hi Ya’ll. I am alive! Although it’s only been two days since I’ve been here, I feel like it’s been longer. I feel like it’s been forever. Where have I been? Thursday, I went to work. And I worked. And then Thursday night Nate decided to stay with his dad so I went back to the shop since they, meaning the main printer (Kevin) and his girlfriend (Terri), were working on a 600 piece print job. It was 12:30 when we got out of there. Temperatures hovered around 100 degrees until we turned the ovens off. Ugh. It has to be hotter when you’re pulling shirts out of the 600 degree dryer, so Terri and I took turns pulling. The fronts had already been printed so we were working on the left chest prints. Then we had to change the tables on the automatic to print the large shirts. The tables are what the shirts are loaded on to go through the ink cycle. The tables were too hot so we had to wait until they cooled off to change them. They get hot because the shirts are flash dried as they go through the ink cycle so the inks don’t run into each other. We’ve had some trouble with the tables, which was supposed to be fixed, but wasn’t, so finally after running more shirts and getting frustrated with it, we finally threw in the shirt and took our sweaty, smelly selves home. Yesterday I had the Quickbooks class where I got leads on two shirt orders, one for a church and the others for a local union. I learned about Quickbooks, although I have to say, the class was boring. I left at lunch and was on the phone with Bob when AZ called from the phone at the shop and I told Bob to tell AZ that I was on the phone with him. I told Bob I would be there in a minute and then AZ called back wanting to know where the A/P folder was and I told him I was reviewing our accounts and it was on the table. He had found it by the time I got there, we talked for a minute as we hadn’t seen each other all week, not that we haven’t spoken, but we hadn’t actually laid eyes on each other. Then AZ left to go home and try to straighten up Casa Z as his mom and stepdad were on their way in for the beach trip. After my class, I called the shop as I was on my way to pick up Nate. Bob said AZ hadn’t shown back up, meaning: the paychecks weren’t there, the shirts hadn’t been ordered, and no one had any direction on where to go next. He wanted me to call AZ. I told him I would do what I could. I didn’t call because AZ already knew: the guys needed paid and the shirts needed ordered by 5:00. It was now 4:25. I picked up Nate, who was supposed to go to T-Bird’s because my cuz PC was having a party. No time. I headed east instead of west and guess who was in traffic beside of us? AZ, his mom, and stepdad. He rolled his stepdad’s window down and I yelled, "You gonna order those shirts today???" He laughed and said, "I’m on my way!" So, this is how Nanner met AZ’s mom and stepdad. I walked in and the shop looked great. Kevin had taken his time to straighten and sweep since he knew we would have VIV. That’s very important visitors. I was already on the phone with one of the t-shirt companies who had the audacity to send us a bill. In between I introduced myself to AZ’s mom and stepdad. I have to say, his Mom looked a bit out of sorts with all of the activity in the building. AZ’s on the phone, the computer guy is there, another printer is there, Nate is running around, Bob is loading shirts, Terri’s outside, Kevin and I are changing the jobs board, then AZ gets off the phone and he’s giving me instructions on half a dozen things, we’re writing down phone numbers and addresses for deliveries, I keep asking him questions, some of which I write down, some of which he says, "I’ll call ya later," "I’ll give that to you later," "Don’t worry until I get back," "What is this for?" I sold one of my necklaces to the computer guy and he gave me that money and a down payment on another piece. AZ’s mom was standing there and she said, "That is very pretty." I said, "Thank you very much." I decided that AZ looks nothing like her, at all. Then I had to chase Nate around, who had been given Dr. Pepper by his father. Who I have told, "Don’t give him Dr. Pepper, it makes him crazy." I believe AZ’s mom and stepdad got a big dose of Nate. *Says a prayer* Finally, everyone left but me and the other printer, so Nate helped me load up the deliveries, and off we went. I dropped one off and then took Nate to T-Bird’s then went up the hill to make another delivery and pick-up money, then down the hill, talked to my cousin, made another delivery, went to my cousins, ate, had a couple of beers, AZ called, I drove back to town and met him at the real estate office. We talked, I rubbed his back, got more instructions, went through the 34 messages on his cell phone, talked more, and then we left. I went back to T-Bird’s to get Nate, watched the end of "You’ve Got Mail," and then "Cross Country with John Edward." For some reason I was compelled to return to the 7-11 to pick up a $5 ring I wanted, saw one of the officers Jeff used to work with, talked to him for about a half of an hour, drove home, and collapsed in exhaustion. Nate had already fallen asleep in the car on the way to 7-11 so all I had to do was pour him in the bed. And, that’s why I haven’t been around. Now, time for breakfast. Going back to PC’s today for swimming and food. Oh, and the bank, I have to take the deposit to the bank. If I am not around next week, it is because I am buried under 15,800 shirts. *Says a prayer*

*SNIIIIIFFFFFFFFFF*

Well, my favorite reality peeps got married tonight. Yes, I admit it, I’m a fan of Dog and Beth (and Leland and Tim and Duane Lee, especially Leland, meowr.) Anyway, I knew that Dog and Beth were getting married because I had read it in the news. What got me was they were all so cavalier heading into the final rehearsal, chasing bail jumpers up until the last minute, and then they got "the call." I already knew "the call" was coming since it happened actually in May and was reported in the news. Dog’s daughter Barbara Katie was killed in an automobile collision the day before their wedding. I thought I was prepared, but I don’t think I’m ever prepared to see grown men, men who go out and chase down criminals, with their mouths quivering, sobbing and crying. It’s a reminder that these are real people, with real problems, and real sorrow, no matter how over-the-top and crazy they act. I sat and cried along with them, not even able to imagine the pain they must have been going through to have lost a daughter, a step-daughter, a sister, a niece, and a mother. Nate hugged me and I was thankful for one more day with my beautiful child. I cried again when Dog started crying right before the wedding and said, "God must have a reason to take my baby." Then I cried again when they got married because I always cry at weddings. What Dog said, about God having a reason, I believe is very true. My two male coworkers make fun of my religious beliefs but there is nothing they can say to ever make me change my mind. I do believe that we are here to learn. Our souls are here to learn. We make choices and we learn from those choices. We may wonder why bad things happen but I do believe that whether it our lesson to learn or whether it is through us that others learn, things happen for a reason. Sometimes, we don’t know the reason, maybe we aren’t meant to know the reason. Perhaps the reason is to simply bring us closer to our Higher Power, whatever you believe that Higher Power to be. Learn, everyday. Live, everyday. Love, everyday.

The Weekend

As you could tell from my calendar of events (listed below), I had two birthday parties to attend. There was a bit of waffling on my niece’s party because I wasn’t actually invited until two days before, which is a bit hard for me considering I had already promised myself to another party (for T-Bird’s nephew). But, after a discussion with Nate, we decided to attend both and just get to my brother’s place about a half of an hour late. In all honesty, I think it was as much a birthday party as it was a “come look at my big expensive new home” party. When I drove up to their new house, my mouth dropped to the floor of the car. It’s one of those houses that you dream about having (at least someone on my salary) but know you’ll probably never achieve. Four bedrooms plus a “bonus room” which is now the playroom, 2 1/2 baths, living room, dining room, family room, kitchen with an island as long as my Queen size bed, breakfast nook with room for a table for eight people, mud room, two car garage, large back porch, nice yard. Granted, with three children, and given the fact my niece’s prior bedroom was not much more than a closet, they really needed a bigger house. My SIL told me that she keeps waking up and wondering if someone is going to tell her, “Sorry, we made a mistake. You can’t have it.” So, I know she’s very happy with it and the kids are happy and I suppose my brother is happy, although he’s always difficult to read. Did I mention it has two staircases, one of each end of the house, on opposite sides? Yeah, the boys had a blast playing hide and seek, especially when I heard the dryer open and not only did J2 crawl out, but also Nate. I wondered how those two hooligans stayed in there so long?!? And QUIETLY, since they were playing hide and seek and J1 was it. J2 hashad a loose tooth. Nate told him to sit down and he would take care of it once my brother was unsuccessful at yanking it out. Nate wiggled it side to side and back and forth, whilst the adults cringed and J1 and Annie looked on it fascination. Nate took a paper towel and dried the tooth, then gripped the tooth with said paper towel and said, “Ooooone, Twooooooo... *YANK* THREE!” We all looked at the paper towel. Nothing. We looked in J2's mouth. No tooth! Then J2 stuck his tongue out and there was the tooth on the end of it. Annie clapped. She is so very precious. So, Nate pulled J2's first tooth. Everyone was happy, my brother and his family have a beautiful new home, my younger nephew lost his first tooth, and we have a great memory that we can laugh about as our children grow older. I can’t ask for more than that. I signed up for a blogger tribute to the victims of 9/11. The information is here. If you would like to be assigned a victim of 9/11 to memorialize, please visit this site.

Tribal

In addition to my home life, regular 40, the shop, my beadwork, and AZ, I've decided I'm just not busy enough, my life just isn't full enough, so, I'm taking a six week tribal belly dancing class. See, it fits perfect in my schedule: Aug. 6th - two birthday parties (my niece and T-Bird’s nephew, already two years old). My niece’s party is 2 hours away and it doesn’t start until 5. *Sigh* Aug. 11th - Cuz PC is having a housewarming/end of summer internship shindig. Aug. 12th - Going to PC’s to go swimming. Aug. 12th - 19th - AZ on vacation. Aug. 25th - Aug. 27th - Beading at Tamarack. Aug. 28th - Nate starts back to school. Sept. 4th - Labor Day Celebration (t-shirt sales) Sept. 6th - Belly dancing Sept. 9th - Mound Art and Craft Fair (beading/maybe t-shirts) Possible trip to Columbus on either the 8th or 10th in an attempt to catch up to BooBoo. Sept. 13th - Belly dancing Sept. 15th & 16th - Fall Fest (beading/maybe t-shirts) (16th is also J3's b-day party) Sept. 20th - Belly dancing Sept. 27th - Belly dancing Sept. 30th - Julie's birthday Oct. 4th - Belly dancing Oct. 6th, 7th, 8th - Trip to Chicago. (Tentative) Oct. 11th - Belly dancing Oct. 14th - WV Black Walnut Festival (Parade and fun, no beading or t-shirts) Oct. 21st - Bridge Day (Tentative) Oct. 22nd - Rock and Gem Show (SCCC) Nov. 3rd, 4th, 5th - Trip to Pittsburgh Nov. 20th - Buck/Anterless Firearms Season Opens Nov. 21st - Nanner's birthday! Nov. 23rd - Thanksgiving Dec. 11th - AZ's birthday Dec. 25th - Christmas Dec. 31st - New Year's Eve Would anyone care to add anything???

I Dare You To Tell Me To Walk Through Fire!

You know... that little voice in your head, I don’t know, maybe you’re lucky and don’t have one, but if you do happen to have one, do you ever want to take it out and beat it to death? I do. Tonight, I really fucking do. Really, really want to. Why? Why, when I’m down and pissed and bitter and angry and I want to give up, does that little voice say, “Don’t give up.” And why doesn’t she ever shut up? I can piss and moan and have 100 things going on at the same time. I can rant and rave and cry, I can ARGUE with the voice, and still, that same calm voice says, “Don’t give up.” I know who it is. I’ve seen her. She’s beautiful. She’s THE numero uno spirit guide. The grand poobah. What she says, goes. I aspire to be her someday. Sometimes my voices, they argue with each other. I tell them to get back to me when some kind of consensus has been reached, but not tonight. Tonight, she said, “Don’t give up.” And the other spirits were quiet. What the fuck are they waiting for? And why did they turn the most notorious red light, GREEN, tonight? I felt bad when that light turned green. That light never fucking turns green. Every time I get to that light, it’s red. Maybe my anger turned it green. The psychic lady I saw a few years ago told me I have joy spirits. Maybe that’s the magnetism, the funky light, electronic thing. I’ve had more than one psychic/medium person tell me, “you have so many spirits around you.” One told me they had revealed themselves to me. That is true, but a story for another time. I was just so down and I was bitching out loud and when that light turned green so I wouldn’t have to stop, I just felt bad because I know I’m never alone and I’m grateful that I have the ability to know that I’m never truly alone. And I am grateful that my spirits have intervened in my life and are here to encourage me when I’m down and just absolutely so fucking bitter that I’m useless to be around. Sometimes I don’t listen. Even to Myra, the grand poobah of spirit guides, because life is about choices. *Glower* *Seethe* But this time, I will listen. I can be very stubborn persistent, and that’s all she’s asking of me right now. FINE! FINE! FINE! I won’t give up. *growl* I want to though. I want to scurry away into my little cave because that’s what Scorpios do. But for you, DEAR MYRA, I won’t give up. I won’t scurry away in my little cave. I totally owe you one when I cross over. *growl* Damnit!

Oooops

I’ve had a few too many beers so I’m stuck at the shop until I sober up. I did quit drinking, now I’m trying to remember how long I have to wait. Obviously, a while. I’m good, just listening to Napster. . . “Headed for a Heartbreak” by Winger. I’ll always be an 80’s child. I spilled beer on AZ’s keyboard. It appears to still be working since I’m still correcting all of my mistakes. Part of me hopes he comes back, part of me hopes he doesn’t.

Conversationally

Nanner: I have a couple of questions for you. AZ: And I may have a couple of answers. Spoken like a true smart ass. Nanner: I’m going to Pittsburgh in November. Mom: Why? Nanner: Her Evilness is getting married, I mean, having a reception or something in Pittsburgh. She’s actually getting married in Atlanta. I’m making her bridal necklace. Mom: Who’s Her Evilness? Nanner: One of my blog friends from At-lan-ta. I met her in Kansas City and Aimee is coming in from California. Mom: Who’s Aimee? *Sigh* ... later in the conversation... Mom: I want to go to the Statue of Liberty while we’re on our trip but we want to take a day trip on a charter or something. Nanner: Yeah, dad shouldn’t drive in NYC, that would be dangerous. I have a few blog friends that live in the area, two in NYC and one in Jersey, I could ask them. Mom: OH, could YOU??? Nanner: Of course, Mom, I got you covered all the way to Maine. Cybele is in MD, E-Lo is PA, Julie, Vince, and Lilo are in NY, Beth is in Jersey, BooBoo is in ME, and I could even dig up a sloth in MA. It’s the Blogger Roadside Assistance Program. Mom: Why would you dig up a sloth? I need a drink.

Bad Kitty

I have a shirt that says, “What Happens In This Shirt, Stays In This Shirt.” HA! Yeah. Right. I blog people. Do not believe the shirt! I also have a shirt that says, “Bad Kitty,” with a frowny cat on it. I use this to fool people into thinking only my kitty is bad, when I know, I’m totally bad. Rotten to the core. I love it when I’m standing outside my building. People walk by and ask how I am. Well, I’m standing outside where it is 95 fucking degrees in the shade and I am in the sun, so, I’m probably hot and sweaty. I’m also smoking, which means, I’m inhaling 4000 chemical compounds into my lungs, via my mouth and mucous membranes, which is affecting how I taste, smell, and breath. My heart rate is increasing, but that may also be because I stand outside and fantasize about doing nasty things to AZ. Remember, “Bad Kitty.” I also live in the “Chemical Valley,” so whatever the chemical companies released into the air and river while we slept is mixing with my stink and sweat and cigarette smoke. Lovely thought, isn’t it? One of the first things AZ said to me at 6:20 this morning was, “Just between you and me, guess who called me.” I hate guessing, because I’m always wrong, but I did anyway, and I was wrong. See. When he told me, I said, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” That whole, “Just between you and me,” means, I’m not supposed to tell anyone. And I haven’t. You could guess, but you would be wrong. See? There are fucktards working next door. It is 10:44 and they are still running a skill saw. I’m not happy. I hate noise when it’s supposed to be quiet. I’m not sure what I hate more, them interrupting my nighttime or waking me up at 9:30 on Saturday morning. I hate them both equally and I’m about to pull rank. I fucking live here peeps! You, you come in and work on the nabe’s house, come in when I’m not HERE! I’M NEVER HERE!! I’M ONLY HERE AT NIGHT!!! AND I LIKE MY FUCKING PEACE AND QUIET!!!! I fail to see how this guy buying the property, and then listing it before it is done, is my problem. Nope, doesn’t have my name on it. Don’t make me angry. You won’t like me when I’m angry. Bad kitty. If you see pictures below, then blogger worked, if not, then blogger didn’t work.

Double Entendre

It’s ditty time! On top of Oh Fuck, all covered with sweat, I lost my poor checkbook, Now I’m swimming in debt. My creditors are calling they want to get paid I told them to fuck off and suck my left tit-tay My day started off much like yesterdays, except I had AZ on the phone to bitch to. I had TM-ed him last night (that mean “text messaged” you dirty pervs), and then he called me about 20 minutes later but I was already in bed and didn’t hear the phone. So, I TM-ed him this morning and I had barely put the phone down when he rang me back. Then someone came in the studio (at the ungodly hour of 6:45 or so) and he had to go, then he had a remote, then he had to go stand in line with the other 2500 people who were trying to meet the Workers’ Comp deadline and it was 94 in the shade, 108 in direct sunlight, with 47% humidity. I TM-ed him a dirty ditty, not the same ditty as above, but haven’t heard from him. Now you want to know the dirty ditty don’t you? Well, it’s a play on words for the Workers’ Compensation fund insurance underwriter who has a monopoly in this fair state of mine. It’s called Brickstreet but we call them “Prickstreet.” And AZ, ya know, he kinda got a wee bit peeved at said insurance underwriter and sort of made a T-shirt with the “Prickstreet” slogan on it, and now I’m wondering if he is in jail. Anyway, the ditty says, “Prickstreet, Prickstreet, you’re our friend, if you can’t fuck us, no one can!” That would be a triple play on words. Actually, that would be more like a play on words, a double entendre, and a hidden meaning. I wish I got points for this shit. I’ve been working on Regan’s bridal necklace. I was working diligently today when suddenly, OUCH, my hand cramped. Both of my hands are sore. My right one is really sore. Shut up. This is not a time for double entendres and filthy jokes. This is SERIOUS! I make my living with my hands. This just keeps getting better. I suppose it’s better than saying I make my living with my mouth. Not that I couldn’t make a living with my mouth, I just don’t. Where was I? Oh, yeah, my hands. It could be from holding a brooch I was making the other night since I had to grip it tightly while I whittled away at the foundation to keep it from showing. I think I did all right. Actually, this is a double entendre piece, meaning, it will have a pin AND a bail backing, so it may be worn as both a pendant and a brooch, cuz that’s how I roll. I was going to post some pics but blogger wants to be a bitch. Maybe tomorrow.