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Sunday, August 30, 2009

sunday randomness.




we went riding on the four wheeler today and we spotted this stuffed bear lying on a fallen log. how random.






our children know not the meaning of privacy. even whilst you are trying to utilize the loo.

silliness.

Let it be dually noted that the aforementioned serial assailant has now escalated his crimes to a whole new level; murderer. BOLO: Jackson is a 3.5 year old male 'dapple' Wiener Dog, at approx. 16-19ish pounds (fluctuating weight is in direct correlation with visits to Grandma's house) and should be considered slobbery and stoned. (Frog paraphernalia has been found in the line of his path.) If spotted, provide him with a Frog so he'll be stoned (semi-sedated) until the proper authorities arrive.




WARNING: DO NOT BE FOOLED BY BEAUTIFUL DACHSHUND EYES OR BIG WET NOSE OR WONDERFUL DOXIE KISSES!!




my father-in-law has a beer can sitting atop his tractor's exhaust pipe. this is not the first time this phenomena has taken place on any of his tractors. in the below pictured tractor, there was another bottle of alcohol posted atop the exhaust pipe. however, that bottle was a glass beer bottle. such silliness easily amuses me.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

oh the humility!!

there is a disturbance in the force somewhere, because our dachshund, jackson has been on a rampage in the past week. this serial assailant has been targeting kermit the frog's relatives. when questioned about this blatant prejudice against his own kind, kermit stated, "if this were a homophobic incident, or great heavens help us if it'd been an racial attack, there would be outrage! where is the outrage?! now if you'll excuse me, i must go seek out gloria allred, the reverend al sharpton, and PETA. this is a great injustice to the amphibian class."


have you ever scared the shit out of a lizard? well i have. check that one off my bucket list. :-)

Friday, August 28, 2009

suck it, Bama!!

too many deaths lately. way too many. virginia tech students, DJ AM (the guy who was with Travis Barker in the deadly plane crash here in Columbia, SC), Dominick Dunne, Ted Kennedy, that model that got stuffed into a suitcase by her husband who was on some trashy-ass VH1 "reality show" (that obviously attains its contestants from the likes of here and broke down strip joints where you can snort a line of coke off of a two cent slut from Alabama called "Bama Baby" for an additional $5), Sam the koala, and Eunice Kennedy Shriver.




its time to take hold those you love, get em close, hug em, and say ya love em.

“Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.”

i apologize for not really writing any lately; i've come down with a temporary case of the blues. recently i had to change my anxiety medication from effexor to lexapro so i imagine that probably has something to do with it. my body is adjusting to the change. and bless my stars!! i hate it, more than anything. i must be patient though and ride it out, as with everything, it will balance itself out, so says the miniature, wise little Buddha/Yoda creature in mah head...





school has been going well thus far. no complaints as of yet, other than there is NO.WORLDLY. REASON.FOR.A. THREE.HOUR.LAB. ...NONE. WHATSOFUCKINGEVER. as a matter of fact, i'm going to ask my friend who works at my school, to find out who's ingenious idea it was to have labs that length of time, so i can politely go and knock on their door and go all chuck norris/jujitsu on their tacos (or balls, whichever the case may be). five minutes feels like five hours. i swear to bob. its a good thing the teacher's accent is kinda hot, otherwise i'd have NOTHING to do in there. (she's a NC farmer's daughter. 'nough said.)




i have a family vacation coming up soon for the holiday. it...should be interesting, to say the least of it. my semi-psychotic, hippie, nonsensical, semi-tatty, sordid, pothead aunts and uncles and cousins, and then my oh-so-well-behaved-thirteen-year-old-brothers-with-add-who-know-EVERY-FUCKING-THING-in-the whole-god-damn-world. let's not forget my darling, adorable, mommy's little princess (Sophia), then the other two spawns of satan that belong to my family (their dogs). be it that we don't all commit homicide by the end of the trip, it should prove to be a very eventful weekend. hopefully i will also get to see some friends of mine who'll be down that way anyways

















i had this dream last night that i was shopping for rings in a funky store, that i got lost in the clothes racks because the clothes were all too fluffy or some shit. think like 80's madonna tutu-style clothing. yeah. then, i walked out the store without paying for two rings that i had on my finger. so in a sense, i reckon i was a damn shoplifter. nice. then, some fool started shootin up the place inside a place that very much resembled morrison's cafeteria. do yall remember that place? it was a staple in our mall for like most of the 90's, i think. it was pretty yucky food, but it filled you up and shut you up without emptying your mama's wallet. it was kind of like a low rent version of a ryan's steakhouse. mmmmm... i used to be so in love with their macoroni and cheese. that was SLAMMING!! so cheesy, but not too much, and creamy as all get out. yummy!! wait, what was i talking about? oh right; the dream. any ideas? wonder what that all means? by the way- i didn't get shot in it. any input would be awesome.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

dachshund googly goodness.


Things I Want To Do To My Dachshund While He's Sleeping, per http://ow.ly/lyuM

1) Take an ice cube, tape it to my nose, and jam it into their armpits.

2) Use my body to make it perfectly clear that I can only sleep exactly where their limbs rest. I'm talking UNDER that leg.

3) Take ear-sized leather flaps and whip them back and forth on their faces just to let them know that I'm awake.

4) Repeat #2 with something tail sized.

5) Shove. Hard. Using both feet AND hands.

6) Show them what it's like to wake up with someone snout-deep in your ear.

7) Kiss them on the cheeks all cute like...then throw up next to their faces.

8) Loudly drink out of their water dish until they wake up, leaving them to wonder how many other times I've done that.

9) Work up a supernatural level of heat yet demand to sleep on top of them.

10) Wake them up urgently, demand that they follow me to the bathroom, and then refuse to pee until I've sniffed everything and waited to see if they would make me breakfast first




***I DO think an amendment should be added: pouncing on their rib cages, cutting off their air supply, while licking em in the face!

GPS systems.


GPS Dachshund says, "Dis not way to Grandma's!!"











Backup ChiWeenie GPS agrees.





Hell hath no fury like a Dachshund upset over leaving Grandma's house.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

who wants to go out?!

Photobucket

Sunday, August 23, 2009

perfection.


just when i think i can't love her anymore, she goes and says this!!

Friday, August 21, 2009

snip this.

this week has been a busy one, for me that is. school started back. this is the first semester that i've been back since the bastard killed himself and his wife. i actually feel like my head is attached to my body again. i don't feel like a walking target for poisonous and false allegations to them anymore. those that know me, and know me well, know my stance. they know (some of) the suffering and the sheer horror. some have said to me that they could not understand why i went to the visitation & funeral. how, after all was said and done (on both sides, because i am not innocent either), how i could go there in front of their peers. how could i pay respects to this man.

i couldn't answer that for a while but now i know. i didn't pay respects to him; i wanted to make sure the SOB was dead. i felt bad that she died. i still do. she didn't deserve it, especially at his hands. i never wished it upon either of them. i wished every and anything else (but that) upon him. the fact remains as this: i went to the funeral because the little girl inside of me was this man's genetic daughter. it is that little girl who, at three years old, sat in her mama's lap in a pink leotard with a matching tutu, tiara and wand, cried out in pain for her daddy to come home. i cried so hard that i cried myself to sleep. even at that age, i knew enough to know this man didn't want to be my daddy. this was a man who was too embarrassed to take me to get a haircut when my parents were still married. my mom got me all dressed up for him to take me. instead his ego and vanity drove us around and i returned home to my mom without a haircut. if i recall correctly, this is a man who reeked of alcohol as his only child, barely a toddler, had very serious open heart surgery.

it still hurts. my temper still flares. but the tears have stopped. i've had enough. in a few months i'm changing my last name, and if you ask me, it should've been done over twenty years ago. its the last string. and i can't wait to snip that bitch either. "here's a hair cut for ya, daddy. so suck it."


i truly can't wait. i believe it'll give me that last bit of freedom, that last molt; to shed any of his attachment to me. if i could strip half my dna to be rid of his toxicity, i damnit would. i'm doing what should have been done decades ago. one thing i'll never comprehend; if he reputed me so badly, why oppose my mom having 100% full custody, why not relinquish parental rights, why oppose the adoption? amidst all of the anguish, hatred, and spite, i think that is perhaps the most evil thing he did... not letting me go. i just won't ever understand that level of hatred. that level that he and his family feed and breed upon. its beyond me.

...but anyways. changing the subject dramatically... i'm going home friday for the weekend, even though honey disagrees. i hate being home alone. i hate being home alone on weekends. i hate being home alone on weekends without friends or family. even though it wears me out, i absolutely adore spending time with my friends and family. its uber cathartic.


oh and btw yall, i was wrong about the michael jackson thing... apparently, he's still chillin in a freezer. just... nastayyyyyyy. yuck.


i have been too damn slack on it, but i must pick it back up...

GIST #9: I am thankful for my family's unconditional love.

(yes, the picture is like 7 years old.)

Sunday, August 16, 2009

strength & grace.


here it is, the night before school officially starts. i'm anxious as hell. i'm okay with my teachers, so its not that. i think its the sheer size of the expected crowd. that always brings me down to my knees because for the most part, i can't stand people. people are just too stupid for their own damn good. but alas, life goes on. (and the stupid people just sit 'n spin for eternity.)

with every new semester i can't help but to think of my darling favorite redhead, reba. she sings so sweetly, so fiesty, so boldly. she dares to question it, and in so dupes you into questioning your own life without even realizing what she's gotten you to do. that's a true artist, somebody who broadens your horizons; in my opinion, anyways. on her GIANTS program, when this song was performed, they listed quote after quote from people who were inspired to return to school because of her. (the show honoring country GIANTS, as it suggests, named her its "Inaugural Honoree.") that's mah girl.

whatever higher power is out there, please give me strength & grace tomorrow. maybe i'll simply take my cue from Reba.





"...Is there life out there
So much she hasn't done
Is there life beyond
Her family and her home
She's done what she should
Should she do what she dares
She doesn't want to leave
She's just wonderin
Is there life out there

She's always lived for tomorrow
She's never learned how
To live for today
She's dyin' to try something foolish
Do something crazy
Or just get away
Something for herself for a change...

There's a place in the sun that she's never been
Where life is fair and time is a friend
Would she do it the same as she did back then
She looks out the window and wonders again

Is there life out there
So much she hasn't done
Is there life beyond
Her family and her home
She's done what she should
Should she do what she dares
She doesn't want to leave
She's just wonderin
Is there life out there"

Friday, August 14, 2009

hum drum, evryday life.


not too much to report on today. honey is out passing out fliers about the theft of her father's car. i fear its too late; thugs run this county. however i admire her tenacity, her dedication, and her loyalty to her daddy's prized possession.



earlier we took all three furbabies to the vet for an over due nail trimming. leave it to the littlest one to cause the most trouble. it was so cute when the minute vet tech had trouble holding our little chubster weiner dog, jackson, up in her arms. you see, a week at grandma's never fails to fatten him up,... never. and the crazy thing about it, is he's not really fat. the dog is all freakin muscle. but my word!! one would like to doubt his lineage of belonging to the minature group of dachshunds!!
we don't have much going on this weekend, as it is our last before school begins. i'd wanted to go swimming maybe tomorrow, but i guess we will see.
hope yall all have a fantastical weekend!!

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

incalculable cuteness.

note: the simultaneous waggling tails AND Sophia's ear action.

/sigh.

my children are too damn adorable.
video

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

on we go...


its official: i feel like poop. flat.out.feel.like.nasty.poop. who the hell knows why. but it sucks. thank gawd i stayed home today, because had i been out in public when... an attack... hit me, i'd have looked like a mad woman on the hunt for any halfway functioning toilet in this south carolina humid august heat. fun times!!


i'm headed up to school tomorrow to finalize my class schedule, and get the necessary books and such. i'm nervous about returning to school, but i feel like i'm ready to tackle it again. this will be the first time since the bastard killed himself that i feel okay enough to really give it a good go. i tried to go back twice before, but my anxiety damn near crippled me in trying to do so. i'd be sitting there, trying to take a math class and bam! an anxiety attack out of NOWHERE.

i'd see my wretched aunt informing me that i have my father's chin,... AS WE STOOD IN FRONT OF HIS CASKET LOOKING AT HIM. gee, thanks. that family always knew how to make me feel special. or i'd relive the tee-total humiliation of having the whole god damn town hear that i was disinherited. then living with the further humiliation of having people feel sorry for me. the whole damn thing just sucked. but alas, i am at a place that i am relieved he is gone. i have the rest of my life to live freely from my childhood monster, and that in itself, is THE BIGGEST AND BEST gift he could have ever given me. inheritance or not.

i am fully aware of who my real family is, who my wonderful and true friends are, and how fortunate and blessed i am to have a great spouse who loves me unconditionally. we built our dream house, have a house full of furbaby critters, and in general, a really great life. i am coming to realize that maybe the secret to this whole thing is indeed love. i'm not at a place of forgiving him, by any means; in fact, i'm nowhere near it. but one day, i can and will. and when that day arrives, that's okay. its just not today.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

any violation sucks.

why do people steal? to attain things they want,... yes, i'm aware of that much. recently, my F-I-L was on the shit end of somebody's jealousy stick. a prized spot in his carport will now be empty. that'll be the first time that spot under his carport has been empty since 1987. 1987, people. 22 years.


okay so it was just a material object that was taken, so it is not life threatening. but what it is, is a blatant violation. a violation of all sorts. no vehicle of mine was ever taken, but i was robbed of my sense of safety in my own home. my childhood home was robbed by somebody who took very very very specific things. the intruder KNEW what he was taking, even the police said so. the reason they said this is because anything that could have been sold for any monetary value was NOT taken; computers, TVs, etc.

what was taken were things that were VERY sentimental to my parents and myself. as a matter of fact, something that was taken, in particular, was in a LOCKED BOX. the intruder specifically knew where to find that key to get the box (which was in an entirely different location than the box), as opposed to simply breaking it open. old habits die hard. (meaning, if one finds hiding places, they may keep them reguardless of what house or spouse they have at the time. i.e.- if one hides their credit cards in their freezer, they may do so from early adulthood until death; even through numerous marriages and divorces. hence; old habits die hard...)



an everyday intruder would not do such a thing; they'd trash 'n grab. this person even went through my room, rifled through ALL of my CDs and only took my prized collection of Reba CDs... and that alone. at this age, this was MY WORLD. this was how i disappeared from him, from the world. i hid in her lyrics, in her voice. this was part of my self made sanctuary. a normal thief would grab 'n go with CDs, not sort through them. there are numerous other circumstances that pointed police to a specific individual responsible for this break-in.

when the criminal WAS caught, he flat out REFUSED to give up who hired him. he ADMITTED it was a hired hit. what i remember is coming home to discover the house broken in. i held myself together very well as i alerted my neighbors and my parents. but when the officer asked me if i had any idea who'd have done this crime, i lost it. my heart skipped a beat and my mind stopped spinning. it zeroed in. no tears were shed until that precise moment. it was then i feared for my safety and everyone else's whom i loved. I WAS A CHILD. A CHILD. why'd i fall apart? because only ONE person came to mind. it was the ONLY thing to make sense. as far as the little bitch who did the time for the crime, he did state he was too scared to give up who hired him. that was one of THE.WORST heart breaks my evil biological sperm donor EVER gave me. i once grew the balls to finally ask him about it... he smirked, laughed, and cracked open his precious Budweiser. (is there any wonder why i still have issues with the bastard?)

---police were never able to establish who hired the criminal so i am NOT naming his actual name even though everybody already knows... so just shut the fuck up to anybody reading this in Florence ...and btw, IF and only IF that IS you who keeps "accidentally" calling me, STOP. point blank, stop.---