my favorite picture from the day
so many gifts and so little space for bows
brother and baby
Dustin and me
grandmother, baby brother, and me
my dad and me
my sweet meat
Christopher and me (you'd never know he was my younger brother)
acting crazyThursday, December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas: a picture post
my favorite picture from the dayso many gifts and so little space for bowsbrother and babyDustin and megrandmother, baby brother, and memy dad and memy sweet meatChristopher and me (you'd never know he was my younger brother)acting crazy
family tradition
so every year without fail my mother's side of the family has a get-together on Christmas Eve. A get-together that includes lots of food (think amazing layered bean dip, awesome sausage cheese balls), catching up because we are finally all in one place, plenty of crazyness, pictures, spirits in a cup and there may or may not have been a mailbox that was overturned as I reversed out of the driveway at the end of the night. here are some pictures...
my brothers and me
pretty blues: the aunt and me
my soon-to-be sister in law
the sistersThursday, December 18, 2008
feeling a little inhumane and human all at the same time
so today I did something that I had been putting off and to the back of my mind for sometime now. I called animal control. on a cat. a beautiful cat that I've been feeding for sometime now that my neighbor left out when she moved away. bitch.
now on to the reason I called animal control.
I have a problem of getting attached to anything furry that walks across my porch (almost anything at least), so of course feeding this cat who would sit on my porch from time to time came to me just like feeding my two inside cats. one of which I've orphaned because she was one of said furry things to cross my porch a few months back. anyways the other cat who my mom named Sky because of his blue eyes and white fur began frequenting my porch more and more because of the food I left out for him so then I put out and old cat bed that my cat never touched because he prefers sleeping in my bed. well a few weeks ago his came up to my porch and his head was swollen, bulbous even, to the point where her eyes were no longer fully opened and he looked deformed to say the least. I was worried, but kept feeding him. Believe me if I could have afforded the vet bill(s) and another cat in my house he would have been orphan #2. however outside he remained and he continued to eat so I assumed he may have just been bitten by something because there are woods behind the apartments. well he returned on and off and one day I went outside to feed her and the swelling was down, but there was a gash-like mark on his head where the swelling had been and stuff was oozing out. me being the vet (not) I think I am, I don gloves and commence to clean up the wound. somewhat, since he is a stray and while quite loving was not a fan of me touching his head. so onward he went back and forth because it's my understanding other people put out food for him. well it rained and he returned to eat and his head, the sore, was coated in mud. so I once again tried to clean him up and this time put some peroxide on him. he took it quite well while the gash and the back of his ear turned completely fizzy white while the peroxide worked it's magic on the apparent infection. well yesterday he walked up and while a little sluggish ate some of the food and hung around for a bit. during all of this time he is continuing to scratch at the sore and causing me great concern, but I can't exactly tell a stray cat to not scratch. oh I wish I could talk cat. well this morning he walked up and his head was bloody (i'm guessing from the continuous scratching at the already raw spot (which had grown over the past few days) where the infection is. I tried to clean him up and he wasn't even fighting me. at all. on top of that he wouldn't touch the food I had brought out to him which he usually devours immediately. the infection, now bloody and raw, looking worse paired with his not-so-normal breathing, swollen eye due to the infection i'm guessing, and his not eating made my decision for me. call animal control. I'm worried the cat is going to get worse and worse because he will continue to scratch. I'm also worried that my cat who sometimes has a way of sneaking out when my mother goes out will also come in contact with the infection.
oh I feel horrible, although i know it was the right thing to do. the animal control guy picked him up and so as not to startle him I put him inside the carrier. it ripped my heart out to see him bewildered and turning in circles in the carrier wondering what the hell just happened. the animal control guy told me they would probably put the cat to sleep because of the way the infection looked and his overall condition that led him to think the infection had worsened. so, the whole day has kind of been clouded over (pun intended because there is a foggy overcast outside) because of this, but somehow I still feel horrible about it.
now on to the reason I called animal control.
I have a problem of getting attached to anything furry that walks across my porch (almost anything at least), so of course feeding this cat who would sit on my porch from time to time came to me just like feeding my two inside cats. one of which I've orphaned because she was one of said furry things to cross my porch a few months back. anyways the other cat who my mom named Sky because of his blue eyes and white fur began frequenting my porch more and more because of the food I left out for him so then I put out and old cat bed that my cat never touched because he prefers sleeping in my bed. well a few weeks ago his came up to my porch and his head was swollen, bulbous even, to the point where her eyes were no longer fully opened and he looked deformed to say the least. I was worried, but kept feeding him. Believe me if I could have afforded the vet bill(s) and another cat in my house he would have been orphan #2. however outside he remained and he continued to eat so I assumed he may have just been bitten by something because there are woods behind the apartments. well he returned on and off and one day I went outside to feed her and the swelling was down, but there was a gash-like mark on his head where the swelling had been and stuff was oozing out. me being the vet (not) I think I am, I don gloves and commence to clean up the wound. somewhat, since he is a stray and while quite loving was not a fan of me touching his head. so onward he went back and forth because it's my understanding other people put out food for him. well it rained and he returned to eat and his head, the sore, was coated in mud. so I once again tried to clean him up and this time put some peroxide on him. he took it quite well while the gash and the back of his ear turned completely fizzy white while the peroxide worked it's magic on the apparent infection. well yesterday he walked up and while a little sluggish ate some of the food and hung around for a bit. during all of this time he is continuing to scratch at the sore and causing me great concern, but I can't exactly tell a stray cat to not scratch. oh I wish I could talk cat. well this morning he walked up and his head was bloody (i'm guessing from the continuous scratching at the already raw spot (which had grown over the past few days) where the infection is. I tried to clean him up and he wasn't even fighting me. at all. on top of that he wouldn't touch the food I had brought out to him which he usually devours immediately. the infection, now bloody and raw, looking worse paired with his not-so-normal breathing, swollen eye due to the infection i'm guessing, and his not eating made my decision for me. call animal control. I'm worried the cat is going to get worse and worse because he will continue to scratch. I'm also worried that my cat who sometimes has a way of sneaking out when my mother goes out will also come in contact with the infection.
oh I feel horrible, although i know it was the right thing to do. the animal control guy picked him up and so as not to startle him I put him inside the carrier. it ripped my heart out to see him bewildered and turning in circles in the carrier wondering what the hell just happened. the animal control guy told me they would probably put the cat to sleep because of the way the infection looked and his overall condition that led him to think the infection had worsened. so, the whole day has kind of been clouded over (pun intended because there is a foggy overcast outside) because of this, but somehow I still feel horrible about it.
Monday, December 15, 2008
a great way to end my year and this shit presidency...
Bush apparently had to dodge not one but two shoes as they headed for his face from an Iraqi journalist in a press conference. According to Iraqi culture throwing shoes at someone is a sign of contempt. too bad it's not metal folding chairs or bricks instead of shoes.
see the full article and video here
see the full article and video here
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
my new favs...
James Franco is quickly becoming one of my most favorite actors for so many reasons. I can't wait to see him in Milk and this interview I found on BlackBook.com was just awesome.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
my tree...
w/out flash and w/flash on. I'm so proud of my tree because I went and picked it up, and with my brother's help got in on my jeep and brought it home. I strung the lights and decorated it, so I kind of consider it my tree.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
I forgot to mention...
my blog is a year and 9 days old. I meant to post on Thanksgiving Day that my blog was officially a year old, but I forgot. It's exciting and quite a learning experience even though my posts aren't regular. I love that I have readers, and love it even more when those readers leave comments and words of encouragement. starting this blog has also been then start of an awesome network as well as a horrible taker-upper-of-my-time because I sometimes can't get off my ass (except to refill my coffee cup) from reading blogs. it's been great and I'm looking forward to another year.
while at work today...
I was thinking about all the funny and even quirky advantages and disadvantages of my height (ok so obviously I had some time to think while at work)
advantages:
**unless you're seven and under you'll never be able to see up my nose, so I have a little more lead-way on the "bat-in-the-cave" thing. (gross, but true)
**I'm also great to have in front of you when there is a crowd because I am some how able to get through faster.
**if you drop something, I can pick it up for you because I've not as far to go. (note: this is only funny if I notice this, not when you state the obvious assface)
**I can see up your nose and embarrass the hell out of you if you piss me off
**my clothes are cheaper
**sometimes waiters/waitresses think I'm under 10 or 12 (depending on the season and clothes I wear ;0]) and I can eat half price.
**if we ever play hide-n-seek together I can fit in the dryer comfortably.
**in my experience a lot of guys like short girls, and more often than not people in general think we're cute. (note: see disadvantages)
disadvantages:
**when someone passes gas in the elevator or other small spaces, I'm the first to smell it.
**I will never, ever be able to reach that shelf over the refrigerator. (what the hell is that cabinet way up there for anyways?)
**sometimes in crowds if I'm not careful, I get stepped on. sometimes trampled.
**I often have to let employers down because I wear heels to the interview (instant 3 inches and I'm 5 foot) get the job, and never where heels again.
**get that stupid ass child labor law joke all_the_time. it's not funny anymore, so knock that shit off.
**I'm often mistaken for a much younger age than I am. most recently it was 15. (of course this depends on the season and what I'm wearing)
**I sometimes have trouble finding the shoes or clothes I want, but stuck with loads of jeans with flowers on the legs and turtlenecks with dogs on them. eek
**people have a tendency to want to pat my head, talk to me like they talk to their 10 year old grandkids, and call me cute-but-not-really names.
**I'm constantly climbing on things everywhere I go because I'm stubborn and don't like to ask for help.
**it really doesn't do for me to own a car, because they don't sit up high enough. hence the Jeep Cherokee.
**sometimes kids want to play with me, and even worse if there are a bunch of kids (think school groups) I get mixed up with them.
**there are seven year olds taller than me
**I get carded all_the_time. no exceptions.
**it's a bitch for me to climb a fence, and I hope I never have to run from the police and jump one.
**most dogs are taller than me on their hind legs
**and unfortunately I can see up your nose, so check yourself.
random post I know...
advantages:
**unless you're seven and under you'll never be able to see up my nose, so I have a little more lead-way on the "bat-in-the-cave" thing. (gross, but true)
**I'm also great to have in front of you when there is a crowd because I am some how able to get through faster.
**if you drop something, I can pick it up for you because I've not as far to go. (note: this is only funny if I notice this, not when you state the obvious assface)
**I can see up your nose and embarrass the hell out of you if you piss me off
**my clothes are cheaper
**sometimes waiters/waitresses think I'm under 10 or 12 (depending on the season and clothes I wear ;0]) and I can eat half price.
**if we ever play hide-n-seek together I can fit in the dryer comfortably.
**in my experience a lot of guys like short girls, and more often than not people in general think we're cute. (note: see disadvantages)
disadvantages:
**when someone passes gas in the elevator or other small spaces, I'm the first to smell it.
**I will never, ever be able to reach that shelf over the refrigerator. (what the hell is that cabinet way up there for anyways?)
**sometimes in crowds if I'm not careful, I get stepped on. sometimes trampled.
**I often have to let employers down because I wear heels to the interview (instant 3 inches and I'm 5 foot) get the job, and never where heels again.
**get that stupid ass child labor law joke all_the_time. it's not funny anymore, so knock that shit off.
**I'm often mistaken for a much younger age than I am. most recently it was 15. (of course this depends on the season and what I'm wearing)
**I sometimes have trouble finding the shoes or clothes I want, but stuck with loads of jeans with flowers on the legs and turtlenecks with dogs on them. eek
**people have a tendency to want to pat my head, talk to me like they talk to their 10 year old grandkids, and call me cute-but-not-really names.
**I'm constantly climbing on things everywhere I go because I'm stubborn and don't like to ask for help.
**it really doesn't do for me to own a car, because they don't sit up high enough. hence the Jeep Cherokee.
**sometimes kids want to play with me, and even worse if there are a bunch of kids (think school groups) I get mixed up with them.
**there are seven year olds taller than me
**I get carded all_the_time. no exceptions.
**it's a bitch for me to climb a fence, and I hope I never have to run from the police and jump one.
**most dogs are taller than me on their hind legs
**and unfortunately I can see up your nose, so check yourself.
random post I know...
Friday, December 5, 2008
my day and why I had two beers before 2pm.
so today started off great, and I've yet to see how it will end, but all the in between stuff has sucked big zebra balls.
this morning after my coffee, I left to go pick up my check from the other job (the one I quit last week), go to the bank, and get some gas. so I thought.
on to how i learned I'm very sensitive, cops are pricks, and there are really a great deal of nice people left in this world. just go to a Waffle House.
I left from getting my check and went over to Wachovia, and waited in line for-evvvver because of some foreigner who had three accounts and couldn't decide which he wanted money from. finishing my transaction I headed towards my car and quiet happy at the nice deposit I had just made into my account. well the happy feeling stopped there because when I got into my car it wouldn't start. So just a little backtracking, this happened a few weeks ago, but it was fine after two guys looked under my hood, messed with something they said they thought was causing the problem. onward I went thinking the problem had been solved. not so much.
I didn't get upset at first. Instead I popped my trunk to see if said part was loose again (part: the pipe-like thing that is hooked b/t the engine and air filter). it wasn't. I also twisted on my battery terminals and looked around for anything else that could have been the problem. I tried cranking it and at this point it wouldn't even turn over. Ok still not upset although very frustrated because I've got stuff to do before going into to work later this afternoon. I go back into Wachovia, which btw was even more packed than it was when I first went in, and asked could I use their phone. No I don't have a cellphone, haven't had one since I came back into the country, and am actually enjoying being off the grid thank you very much. Anyways, the lady instructs me to dial 9 then my number. I proceed to do so, but get a recording saying I must dial a 1 or a 0 to make the call. Ok so I do that. Still I get the same recording, so I tell the lady (who btw is doing nothing but sitting at her desk) she acts as if I've just disturbed something important and with her attitude that I didn't appreciate came over and put the phone on speakerphone and walked me through the dialing the process as if I'm ten instead of twenty four. Same recording. So lady tells me in her attitude-ish voice "it must be the number you are calling, so I can't help you.
Ok at this point my frustration is rising, but there is a cop standing right in front of the table where I'm making my call so no sweat right? They are here to serve and protect the people right? Yea, not so fucking much. I didn't want to call a wrecker until I absolutely had to, and I thought that if I could just make a call, get some jumper cables I'd be fine. His response was: "well ma'am I can't help you unless you want a wrecker." Two words to you assface: you suck!
So, I get out to my car, mess around a few times under the hood, try to crank it a few more times and NOTHING. at this point, I'm upset and I start to cry. a silent cry, but tears nonetheless. Mainly because the cop was a prick and I hate hate hate the feeling of being stranded. So anyways after crying and trying not to cuss Jeep (because I actually think if I lash out at her she may be an even bigger bitch and never crank), I realize Waffle House is just through the bushes across from Fuckovia. I walk over to Waffle House and I'm sure it's very evident I've been crying so I try to shape up and walk in. Well I ask about a phone and this wonderful young guy named Jeremy hands over his cellphone. just like that. no questions or hesitations. Well I'm trying to call someone and begin to explain to Jeremy the problem, telling him I've looked under my hood, and it's just not happening. Well lo and behold some random older guy (with those eyes that many people of older generations have that show they have lived a long time in more than just years) sitting at the counter overheard my distraught-ridden situation, and asked me a few questions about my car, and then said "honey (gah damn I love the South right now) I just live right up the road, so I'll run home and get my jumper cables and be right back to see if I can help." He said that, and once again he didn't know me from Adam. After getting my mom on the phone, explaining the problem and asking her to call my brother since friend of the family is pulling a no-answer, I sat down to wait on the man to return with his jumper cables. Jeremy offered me a coffee and a half of waffle and I really started to cry because I was overwhelmed at the generosity being displayed and quite distraught over being stranded. Jeremy hands me tissue and tells me to hold on to his phone until the man comes back in case I need to make another call.
10 minutes later:
Lady who was sitting two booths over from her daughter comes up to me and says "darlin, can I help you in any way? give you a ride somewhere?" I told her the man was returning and if the jumper cables didn't work my brother would pick me up. I thanked her profusely and yes I shed a few more tears because it's really too much. So she leaves and man returns. After thanking Jeremy and leaving a tip for the what they said was a free coffee and waffle, we walked over to Fuchovia.Well apparently the guy who was sitting beside the man also came over to take a look. I popped my hood, and they did what I did: looked around, twisted my battery terminals and you won't believe this, but Jeep started up! The other man had loosened then re-tightened my left battery terminal and Jeep was fine. Really I can't tell you the relief, and they kind of shook their heads at the simplicity of the problem. Or at least we think it was the problem. So that was it, I was off after thanking the two men.
Now I'm home drinking a Red Stripe because my nerves are a little shot because I got so worked up, I've decided maybe I do need to be back on the grid for emergency's sake, and still a bit amazed at the generosity of 4 different people. 4 people who would be getting nothing in return, offered to help me. Then I started thinking about where I found these four people. In a Waffle House, a breakfast joint that has been around for years and now is a kind of symbol (at least in the South) of a place where no one is really an outcast, and there will always be a jukebox and hot food waiting for you. and damn good coffee of course. The Waffle House of my childhood had a very homey feeling, and this one did too. So there are still kind and generous people in the world, you just have to know where to find 'em.
p.s. I don't know how big zebra balls are, and the next day i'm off I'm going to Waffle House to see if the man is there (he apparently is there often because he was asking when so and so works again) and I'm going to buy him breakfast.
this morning after my coffee, I left to go pick up my check from the other job (the one I quit last week), go to the bank, and get some gas. so I thought.
on to how i learned I'm very sensitive, cops are pricks, and there are really a great deal of nice people left in this world. just go to a Waffle House.
I left from getting my check and went over to Wachovia, and waited in line for-evvvver because of some foreigner who had three accounts and couldn't decide which he wanted money from. finishing my transaction I headed towards my car and quiet happy at the nice deposit I had just made into my account. well the happy feeling stopped there because when I got into my car it wouldn't start. So just a little backtracking, this happened a few weeks ago, but it was fine after two guys looked under my hood, messed with something they said they thought was causing the problem. onward I went thinking the problem had been solved. not so much.
I didn't get upset at first. Instead I popped my trunk to see if said part was loose again (part: the pipe-like thing that is hooked b/t the engine and air filter). it wasn't. I also twisted on my battery terminals and looked around for anything else that could have been the problem. I tried cranking it and at this point it wouldn't even turn over. Ok still not upset although very frustrated because I've got stuff to do before going into to work later this afternoon. I go back into Wachovia, which btw was even more packed than it was when I first went in, and asked could I use their phone. No I don't have a cellphone, haven't had one since I came back into the country, and am actually enjoying being off the grid thank you very much. Anyways, the lady instructs me to dial 9 then my number. I proceed to do so, but get a recording saying I must dial a 1 or a 0 to make the call. Ok so I do that. Still I get the same recording, so I tell the lady (who btw is doing nothing but sitting at her desk) she acts as if I've just disturbed something important and with her attitude that I didn't appreciate came over and put the phone on speakerphone and walked me through the dialing the process as if I'm ten instead of twenty four. Same recording. So lady tells me in her attitude-ish voice "it must be the number you are calling, so I can't help you.
Ok at this point my frustration is rising, but there is a cop standing right in front of the table where I'm making my call so no sweat right? They are here to serve and protect the people right? Yea, not so fucking much. I didn't want to call a wrecker until I absolutely had to, and I thought that if I could just make a call, get some jumper cables I'd be fine. His response was: "well ma'am I can't help you unless you want a wrecker." Two words to you assface: you suck!
So, I get out to my car, mess around a few times under the hood, try to crank it a few more times and NOTHING. at this point, I'm upset and I start to cry. a silent cry, but tears nonetheless. Mainly because the cop was a prick and I hate hate hate the feeling of being stranded. So anyways after crying and trying not to cuss Jeep (because I actually think if I lash out at her she may be an even bigger bitch and never crank), I realize Waffle House is just through the bushes across from Fuckovia. I walk over to Waffle House and I'm sure it's very evident I've been crying so I try to shape up and walk in. Well I ask about a phone and this wonderful young guy named Jeremy hands over his cellphone. just like that. no questions or hesitations. Well I'm trying to call someone and begin to explain to Jeremy the problem, telling him I've looked under my hood, and it's just not happening. Well lo and behold some random older guy (with those eyes that many people of older generations have that show they have lived a long time in more than just years) sitting at the counter overheard my distraught-ridden situation, and asked me a few questions about my car, and then said "honey (gah damn I love the South right now) I just live right up the road, so I'll run home and get my jumper cables and be right back to see if I can help." He said that, and once again he didn't know me from Adam. After getting my mom on the phone, explaining the problem and asking her to call my brother since friend of the family is pulling a no-answer, I sat down to wait on the man to return with his jumper cables. Jeremy offered me a coffee and a half of waffle and I really started to cry because I was overwhelmed at the generosity being displayed and quite distraught over being stranded. Jeremy hands me tissue and tells me to hold on to his phone until the man comes back in case I need to make another call.
10 minutes later:
Lady who was sitting two booths over from her daughter comes up to me and says "darlin, can I help you in any way? give you a ride somewhere?" I told her the man was returning and if the jumper cables didn't work my brother would pick me up. I thanked her profusely and yes I shed a few more tears because it's really too much. So she leaves and man returns. After thanking Jeremy and leaving a tip for the what they said was a free coffee and waffle, we walked over to Fuchovia.Well apparently the guy who was sitting beside the man also came over to take a look. I popped my hood, and they did what I did: looked around, twisted my battery terminals and you won't believe this, but Jeep started up! The other man had loosened then re-tightened my left battery terminal and Jeep was fine. Really I can't tell you the relief, and they kind of shook their heads at the simplicity of the problem. Or at least we think it was the problem. So that was it, I was off after thanking the two men.
Now I'm home drinking a Red Stripe because my nerves are a little shot because I got so worked up, I've decided maybe I do need to be back on the grid for emergency's sake, and still a bit amazed at the generosity of 4 different people. 4 people who would be getting nothing in return, offered to help me. Then I started thinking about where I found these four people. In a Waffle House, a breakfast joint that has been around for years and now is a kind of symbol (at least in the South) of a place where no one is really an outcast, and there will always be a jukebox and hot food waiting for you. and damn good coffee of course. The Waffle House of my childhood had a very homey feeling, and this one did too. So there are still kind and generous people in the world, you just have to know where to find 'em.
p.s. I don't know how big zebra balls are, and the next day i'm off I'm going to Waffle House to see if the man is there (he apparently is there often because he was asking when so and so works again) and I'm going to buy him breakfast.
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