So, I found some guy skulking around my car this morning. I’m not sure if it was my car he was looking at. (That was one of Jeff’s gripes, my car was junky) I cleaned part of it out yesterday but its been so dang hot and humid its hard to sit in a car long enough to clean it out so I started late in the evening and didn’t get finished.
Maybe the guy wanted my garbage. Yeah, that’s incriminating evidence… yard clippings, the corners of non-eaten PB&Js in sandwich bags, wrappers from my sweets addiction, water bottles, milk bottles, petrified french fries, various and sundry papers of no incriminating value… those meth cookers got nuttin on me!
I noticed that my saw is missing. It may be behind the house for one reason or another or the cats might have knocked it off of the porch and its beside of it. Or someone just stole it. I have to use that saw to cut the waterbed headboard in half so the garbage men can haul it off. Oh well, I’ll go buy another one!
I’ve been praying a lot lately, even before this fiasco came about. I’ve felt the need to be closer to my Goddess. I pray for strength and protection and direction. I can’t do everything myself and as depressed as I have been lately I’ve needed a bit more of a boost. The novella idea was one thing but getting my house in order is something I have definitely been wanting to do and had already started before this.
I work to find balance between helping myself and allowing myself to be helped, whether it be a physical entity or a spiritual one. Right now, ha ha ha, I’m not one much for physical entities. I wouldn’t let the President of the United States in my yard right now. Oh, wait, I don’t trust him anyway. Okay, maybe the Pope, nevermind… that whole witch burning thing… yeah don’t trust him either.
Oh yeah, Jeff called this morning at 12:21 but before I could answer he hung up. *sigh*
Perhaps its silly to worry, but what if and I mean ‘WHAT IF’ something would go wrong at my house, as in, Jeff would get on one of his drunks and come to my house? Supposedly he has his “friends” on my town’s police department. Could I even trust my own police officers to be fair? Can I in any way trust my police? Don’t think I don’t know all about the blue wall and the blue this and the blue that.
My spirits have a way about them though. I had to watch the phones again yesterday from 4-5. I was soooo sleepy and I only meant to lay my head down for a minute… but yeah, I fell asleep at the front desk. I couldn’t have been asleep longer than 10-15 minutes.
Though if its any indication how sleepy I was I immediately fell into REM and I was dreaming… that I was asleep (which signifies that I’m in a peaceful period in my life) and I was in a hotel (which signifies I need to find a new way to deal with an old problem) but I heard knocking at the door and I could see that it was T-Bird and Jeff knocking (The knocking signifies my subconscious is trying to attract my attention to some aspect of myself or to some waking situation. A new opportunity – or money – may be presented to me – from http://www.myjellybean.com) Amazing relevance to my situation, don’t you think?
Maybe just a follow up of what happened Tuesday. Things are stirring. The spirits are awakening. Can you feel it?
*STAR WARS SPOILERS*
Dear Mr. Lucas:
I just watched “Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith.” Although I found it incredibly sad, and made me just too damn sympathetic for Darth Vader in the later movies, I got a serious bone to pick with you, dude.
Now, besides the fact R2 can’t fly in the first… errrrr… last three episodes, and the stone faced, sulking, gawd where did he learn how to do love scenes Anakin, and what was up with Padme’?? Why did you turn her into a simpering fool? The same woman who used a decoy to save her life, flew a starship, fought wild beasts, and fell out of a speeder suddenly turns into this… this… crying, whiny…UGH!! That’s the way to take the balls outta the galaxy, George!
However, I must say, you did, or rather Ewan McGregor and Ian McDiarmid did, kick ass jobs as Obi-Wan and the Chancellor/Emperor/Palpatine. The Scots have it. Ewan McGregor was practically channeling Sir Alec Guinness.
Is that weird or what?
However, my biggest gripe is… in “The Return of the Jedi,” Luke specifically asks Leia about her mother, her real mother, and what she was like. Leia says she was very beautiful and kind but sad. HELLO!!!
HELLLLLOOOO!! HELLO!? Is this thing on? I mean, WTF?? First, you turn one kick ass, take charge lady into a heartsick, love schmucka!! Then, it completely goes against the 6th Episode that Star Wars geeks, such as myself, have watched over 300 times (okay, maybe 30)!! GAHHHHH!!! George!! Say it ain’t so!!
Just had a conversation with Nate’s dad or rather, he did a lot of talking and I did a lot of listening. It was a strange conversation but something I have sensed coming for a while. In a nutshell he told me that he had pictures of the inside of my house, taken by one of my “friends” and he would have my friends, the friends of my friends, my ex-babysitter, and a police officer from the city I live in to testify what a horrible mother I am and that he has been amassing evidence against me for the past two years to take Nate away from me.
But he didn’t want to do that.
But he would.
But he wasn’t going to.
In one breath he told me that he knew how much I had sacrificed for Nate and in the next breath…
How I didn’t do anything for Nate and how he deserved so much better than the 8 years that I’ve given him.
In one breath he told me that he didn’t give a shit about me and if I died tomorrow that he would make sure I got a proper burial but otherwise he didn’t give a damn whether I lived or died but in the next breath…
Told me how he still loved me and how I took a huge chunk out of his heart so many years ago.
Yet he said he didn’t give a damn what I did on weekends when Nate wasn’t with me. I could fly off to New Orleans or wherever and have my boyfriend stick his dick in my ass and I could lick his ass all I wanted
He said that Nate cried when I left for New Orleans and Houston (Nate denied that) because I was so selfish not to take him with me and if I could afford to go there and here and everywhere then I could afford to buy Nate a TV for his room and have cable, because its a disgrace not to have cable….
Yet then said he was sure he didn’t pay me enough money to help with expenses….
Yet I was getting my money and by God it wasn’t to be used to fly all over the country…
And all he did four years ago was bust Nate’s ass until he put bruises on it and that was okay and he was still a better person than me because I didn’t have the balls to call him and tell him that I was going to sue him for custody but he was bigger and better because he was calling me to tell me that although he had all the evidence to take Nate, and all these people to back him up, that he loved Nate too much to take him away from his Mama.
Then he tells me how smart I am and how that’s what my fucking problem is… I’m too damn smart and therefore incapable of leading a normal everyday life. My mind could see deep into matters that others never thought of and he akinned it to Aqualung, the local brilliant homeless guy. Too smart for my own damn good.
I’ll be the first to admit peeps, as I have before, that my house could use a good scrubbing and yes, I’m ashamed of it right now. Right now, the outside looks good… the inside looks like hell. And yes, I fully intend on doing something about it and not because of the 85 minutes I spent on the phone. I’ll do it for me and Nate, as I do all things.
I held steady on the phone but admittedly I cried when I hung up. I cried because I haven’t done better in the past and I cried, frankly, because I know someone close to me has betrayed my trust and confidence. That person is T-Bird. As I said, I’ve felt this coming on. I’ve felt the eyes upon me. Seems funny that my neighbors can have a jungle in their backyard yet I’m the one who gets called in to the city. Seems funny that my neighbors can have 10 cats running around their yard but one of mine does something wrong and the humane officer is sent out. Seems funny their garbage can pile up on their back deck until the back door isn’t visible but I leave a couple bags for longer than a week and I’m being called in on .
It didn’t take much to put two and two together… why? Because T-Bird is in big with the local PD and makes it a point, of course, to point that out every chance she gets. She’s also only one of two people besides myself who has had access to my house in the past year. I know Hagar and his wife aren’t going to come in my house and take pictures but you can better believe that if I EVER prove that T-Bird has ANY part in this… oh Gawd, ya’ll will see me on the Weekly World News.
That’s the part that really, really sucks. Unless Jeff spills the beans on who it is, I’m stuck not knowing. I don’t doubt him because he sounded kinda messed up when he called and he knows WAY TOO MUCH about things I’ve never mentioned much less discussed with him.
Peeps, I leave other people alone. Yeah, I may try to irritate my neighbors but I don’t do it to hurt them. I mind my own business and I expect others to mind theirs. I don’t do things purposefully to hurt other people and now this fucked up individual has spilled the beans on all of them. I’d like to believe that he’s just blowing smoke and the person who professes to be my best friend in the world wouldn’t betray me like that. If she had a problem with something I’m doing that she would come to me with it. But deep down… I know he’s not blowing smoke. The jealousy and silence over il mio amore should have been a dead giveaway for me to watch my back.
And my friends… it was told to me long ago by a psychic that not only do I have a multitude of spirits around me but they will take care of me and mine. If any dirty work needs to be done, they will do it. I don’t have to ask. I don’t have to request. I don’t have to conjure or do spells or think special thoughts. They see my need and they act. The last time they stepped in Jeff was arrested, lost his job, was in and out of mental facilities, and addicted to drugs. It would certainly be a shame for shit like that to start happening to other people…
So much for my post about Viggo Mortensen. Guess it can wait. In the meantime, I’ll be cleaning as I had already planned to do, and writing as I had planned and working and taking care of Nate, just like I had planned, and my spirits, well, they’ll be taking care of the rest.
I worked in my yard ALL WEEKEND. It was 90 both days but the humidity was low. Casa Moon now looks highly presentable. Except for the porch. I haven’t cleaned it off yet. I weed-eated around my fence, and even wielded my weedeater like a razor and shaved my fence line since the nabes (Hagar and Co.) have allowed the berry vines and honeysuckle (not to mention two trees!) to take over my half of the fence. Their backyard looks like a jungle. I wouldn’t go in there without a machete and that’s just for the flesh eating spiders as big as my hand that I’m sure are lurking there. Might even be a Gila Monster or an escapee from the local prison. One just never knows.
And then I weedeated part of the yard itself because parts of it were too high for my mower to pass over easily. Plus, I did a lot of that to piss off my other nabes. I kept the constant whine of the weedeater going so they couldn’t have a normal conversation and had to go in their house. She got me back today by blasting Christian music while she cleaned out her car whilst I was raking all of the ground clutter (dead leaves, limbs, vines, clippings etc.) from around the house and bagging it up.
Then I pulled out the lawnmower… point Nanner.
While raking some dead (uber-dead) leaves, Nate and I ran across a little fella that looks like this.
This is the Dysdera crocata, class – Arachnida, Order – Araneae, family – Dysderidae, genus – Dysdera, otherwise known as the European Garden Spider. I had never seen one before but cool to know that a spider in my yard is in the same Order as the one that bit Spiderman.
Wolf spiders, however, are very common.
Furry little shites.
The Dysdera was after these little suckers.
Which remind me of the pillbugs in “A Bug’s Life.”
“You fired! *clap* “Hey!”
If you don’t know what that means then watch the movie!
So, I have raked and weed eated and mowed until I’m sore all over. I can barely raise my arms which is a good thing because I stink. I have a red neck from wearing my hair up, the same hair which is stiff with dried sweat, dirt, and particles of grass and weeds. Since I have yet to comb the snarls out I may have one of those Dysderas in there… or a Gila Monster.
One just never knows.
Finally, I have come up with a new idea for an erotica novella. In March or so of 2003, I wrote “Rainy Day,” which I have published a couple chapters of on my NaNoWriMo blog, and submitted it to a publishing house. I got a standard form letter back but at the bottom the editor had written a note telling me they liked my writing but the subject matter was too serious and encouraged me to submit again.
Two years later, I’m still getting there. I immediately started writing another novella but it seemed forced. I then started a re-write of “Higher House,” a fantasy/medieval novella I had written in the Spring of 2002. That didn’t quite seem right either and I’m too ADD to go back and re-write. It’s the same principal as my beading… its so hard to do the same thing twice!! And I made a mistake when I was telling someone about it, its almost 33,000 words, not 60,000. I wrote it though in 11 days. That’s probably why it sucks. The story is awesome and I love it. I can tell you point by point exactly what needs fixed, and what needs scrapped, and what needs added. Its on the list. I will rewrite it simply because I love that damn story.
I’m not sure how I came by the storyline for “Nightmare.” It should have been as easy as falling off of a log and I should have thought of it a long time ago. I’m really excited about it and as soon as I finish this post I’m going to start on it. Julie was right. This is what doldrums are for. I’ll keep you informed as to my progress. This sooooo rocks!!! This post is done now, think of me typing away this weekend. Send me good thoughts about elves. I know that won’t be hard for Leese!! Have a great one and Happy Friday!!
What is it with men? Maybe its just the ones I know, but how the hell is it that I dated Lex for six months and the guy never spent a dime going out with me, never actually took me anywhere, spent another six months after I broke it off to tell me how he felt six months prior, and now suddenly wants to spend time with me? Let me couch that by saying, he knows I’m seeing someone else and his chances of wiggling back in are less than zero.
I’ll be damned if AZ isn’t the same way. Suddenly, now that I’m seeing someone else and have absolutely no romantic notions toward either of them, I’m suddenly their best girl friend. WTF is up with that? Not that I mind being friends with either of them… but here’s what gets me.
If either of these head-stuck-so-far-in-ass-they-can’t-fart gentleman would have opened their mouths, respectively within the past 13 and 3 years, and said, “Nanner, I like ya, but I just want to be friends and be able to do stuff without worrying about all the romantic stuff,” boy would that have saved me a hell of a lot of shit. But then… you see… they couldn’t have used the “keep her hanging on until I decided what I want… the Plan B girl…” I got your Plan B.
If I decide to grace either with my presence they’re paying.
Speaking of Plan B
My Plan B is San Antonio.
The People I Greet
I saw Old Don on the way to work this morning. I’d link my first story about him but I’m too lazy. He was my bus driver from the time I started Kindergarten. Now he’s old and palsied. He yelled to give my family his best regards and his oldest grandchild just graduated from high school. The sun couldn’t have been any brighter than his smile.
Then there’s a guy that works at FS&B, which is another law firm the corner over from us. I keep forgetting his name but I know his grandson’s name is Trevor. Trevor was born with cerebral palsy and a host of other medical problems. At one time his seizures were so bad they didn’t think he would live another year. Little guy is only seven.
I saw the lady from the sub shop across the street from FS&B. She has the same name as me. Her son-in-law owns the place and she works there. I know she’s probably shit a brick the size of a sub if she knew how he propositioned me. We’ll just keep that between us.
Brenda and I saw each other in the alley. She works for the Board of Accounting has a granddaughter a little older than Nate. She’s one hip grandma.
My parents are still in it thick with Mr. One Cell. He has now built a fence on what he deems to be his property (but is not his property). The State Trooper told my dad, “If it were me, and I believed that fence were on MY property, I’d tear that shit down, throw it in his yard, and make him sue ME.” My parents have contacted a lawyer.
I found this out when my Mo (that’s what I call her, not MoM, but MO) called to tell me my cousin has a brain aneurysm and is going into surgery today. He’s 45 years old. I’m glad they found it early enough to do surgery but that doesn’t much guarantee anything.
Okay, I’m done. Is it Friday yet? Or at least 5:00 somewhere?
How can one be ecstatically happy in one regard and be so completely and utterly miserable in every other regard?
Its not that I hate my job. I simply have lost all passion for it. It funds my life and it used to enrich it. I really love my boss. He’s a good person and a good man. I don’t like disappointing him but its getting harder and harder to get out of bed in the mornings.
Everything seems to be getting harder and harder. I can’t even get the freaking grass mowed. I know I’m depressed and I’m taking my meds so I’m just hitting a rough spot. Not everything is cured by a pill.
Neither of my neighbors like me much anymore, which they can kiss my ass. I’m sick of the church lady who used to keep Nate. Gawd, how can one person sit on the phone and gossip as much as she does? I swear if the phone isn’t attached to her ear she’s off running the roads. You want to know why I stopped going to church with my Mama and Papa? I recognized hypocrisy. I won’t even get into the hypocrisy I’ve seen from that bunch.
Just glad they aren’t as bad as the Breeders.
Or my parent’s neighbor.
As for Hagar and clan… don’t even see TLC that much. We’ve been getting home later in the day so Nate and TLC don’t have much of an opportunity to play together. Also TLC has learned from his parents how to use people and Nate put a stop to that. As in, TLC was only wanting to play with Nate when he could convince me to let them use the water hose or he could get game cheats from the computer. Again, I pay for my computer and my water… if that’s the only reason you want to come over, stay the fuck home.
Nanner is not in a good mood. I’m pretty sick of just about everything. I’m not going forward, but I’m not going back. Just sitting here, rocking back and forth, unable to do either. Not going back is good, not going forward sucks.
I know it won’t always be like this. I know I’m going to get things straightened out and inch by inch move forward toward where I ultimately want to be. I just have no patience for waiting. I want things done yesterday. I know, deep in my heart, the waiting, the patience is a good thing. I know that plotting and planning my next move, whether mental or physical, is a good thing. I keep in mind that the Goddess watches over me and occasionally you have to stop trying to manipulate everything and go with the flow. Give it over, so to speak.
Hand it over to a higher power.
I made my first breast cancer awareness ribbon. I like it except for the fact its made with cheap beads so the colors even rubbed off on the thread. Schtupid cheap beads. Can’t wait to buy some real beads to do it with. I might be doing the jewelry/headpiece for my friend’s wedding. I’m excited about that.
Everything in due time…
Thanks for your support. (Hi El Sid!! Love ya girl! Sure was good to see you lurking about.) Little Bit #1 was dying as I left the house. Shit. I thought she was going to make it. Its hard not to think of my other cats and how they are, if they’re confused… I wish I knew what cats were thinking.
Went to see my Mom and Dad yesterday and spent the better part of the day with them. They are having trouble with one of their neighbors who doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together and the one he has doesn’t work half the time. He says my parents’ mailbox, paper box, and farm sign are on his property. Technically, his property does extend to the creek, which would include the mailbox etc., except… the great State of West Virginia, who turns 142 today (please begin humming, “Country Roads” to commemorate), has a 30 foot right of way along that road, as it is with every road in WV. Its on that 30 ft. right of way that my parents have their shit.
Now, Mr. One Cell thinks he can just come over and tear down my parents mailbox. Can you say, FEDERAL OFFENSE? That’s it boys and girls. I knew you could. He told my dad that “things were going to start happening around here… blah blah” which my dad, rightfully, took as a threat to himself, my mom, and their property. So, my dad goes and talks to the Sheriff who is so sick of hearing complaints about Mr. One Cell that he says if he has to come out there one more time he’s going to arrest him. My dad is filing another report today about his threats.
This is how stupid Mr. One Cell is. The last place he lived, about five miles from where he is now, he irritated his neighbor so bad the guy set fire to Mr. One Cell’s house and told him, “Hit the road Jack.” This is what happens when you piss of your neighbor who also happens to be a convicted AR-SON-IST. Mr. Arsonist, in a fit of road rage, followed some dude home and sets fire to his vehicle. Yeah, this is the kind of person I want to piss off.
Of course Mr. Arsonist isn’t all that bright either. During the road rage incident they practically found him covered in gasoline, can in hand, ready to the light a match, although he did get by with burning out Mr. One Cell. I’m thinking Malatov Cocktail here. I know how to make napalm too.
Mr. One Cell has also sent peeps by our house trying to stir dust up, spinning out in my parents’ driveway etc. and, joy, joy, he has also shot someone before. Yeah, I’m not at all happy with this situation. What worries me most is my mom, unlike me, doesn’t know her way around a gun. My dad has a sweet little .38 that she could shoot. It fits in the palm of his hand. Although I have to admit that I prefer a rifle with a dead on scope…. ahem, I mean, for deer hunting. *Straight face*
Anyway, my dad and I were going to shoot yesterday but… my mom… talked a lot. Her friend also stopped by with her adorable poodle Precious. I’m normally not too crazy about poodles but Precious lives up to her name. She really was precious and I want one. I’m not getting one or the Chihuahua that I want… but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want one.
Peeps… I’m exhausted and glad I’m taking off work early today for Nate’s doctor appointment. I made myself a watch band this weekend to go with a watch face I bought last week. The last time I was in Nashville I had purchased a couple of grams of light gray beads and they finally spoke to me. I beaded squares with a long open center to frame a clear 6mm round Swarovski crystal. The watch face is round silver colored with black/gold accents. Its very pretty.
Thanks again for your kind words about my cats. They’ll always be mine, regardless.
Brought to you by the letters “M” and “C” and the number “5.”
Today I let some of my family go. I took five of my cats to be placed for adoption. Nate and I agreed that we were just too saturated and for their health and well-being, we needed to thin the herd. Death has taken three kittens this week and the last one is barely hanging in. That would be Little Bit #1 – the seizure kitty.
Of all my cats, the one I thought I would have the hardest time with was Morticia. She was always wanting love from me, especially when she was knocked up. It wasn’t her that resisted though, it was her sister Natasha. She literally dug her claws in and gave me a confused look. I hated it but I know it was the right thing to do.
I don’t think they will have trouble finding new owners. The lady Mary, she’s good at finding homes. I knew if they stayed here another day I couldn’t have done it. At least T-Bird is good for something… when I told her I didn’t think I could do it, she said, “Then we’ll do it together,” and she reminded me that they were my cats and therefore were tough and strong and would be okay.
Sometimes, even the right thing to do, feels wrong.
P.S. Go tell Lois Happy Birthday and you’re sorry that Nanner didn’t send her a gift.
I used to be a gusher. I was Tom Cruise and his-disgusting-display-of- gushiness-over- Katie-Holmes personified. Its great to be that “in” to someone. Love is fantastic and falling in love with someone is indeed a wonderful experience. This time … I’ve pretty well kept my mouth shut. I haven’t even said a whole lot here.
I attribute that to the lack of anxiety, no need to k’vetsh and k’vitsh about what a k’vatsh I had tangled myself up with. I’ve even surprised myself with my lack of gushing. Its much more fun to watch everyone around me try to pull it out of me. My boss is especially antsy to know the details which are slow in coming. I’ve only reassured him that I’m not suddenly going to pull anchor and move across the country. Although I have to admit the anchor is not quite as strong as it was two weeks ago and is slowly working itself free.
Having had to out myself and il mio amore to my parents wasn’t nearly as traumatic as I had envisioned. Of course they haven’t gotten me face to face yet. Makes no difference really. I’m 34 years old, I think I can make sound, logical decisions for myself and Nate. Not that anyone in my family will for two seconds believe that selling my house and moving lock, stock, and barrel across the United States to a place that I only have one aunt (HA! Family… SEEE!!!) and blogger friends is in anyway responsible, sound, or logical.
Nate is my enigma. I told him that I was searching for apartments etc. and I reminded him that its not set in stone and told him he would only be seeing his dad during summers/holidays, would that bother him? He answered my question with another question, as in, what about his sister? Couldn’t she and her mom move with us? It seems like he’s growing up so fast.
He is loving summer camp!!! I am so glad I did this. I’ve never seen him happier and he’s got the little Indian glow. One of our kittens died (this was Ireland’s litter that I haven’t even mentioned before now) and he and I had already accepted that she wasn’t going to make it. Little Bit #4 was a very pretty calico and I buried her yesterday evening. The other kittens seem to be okay for now, but Nate held up Little Bit #1, the one that had the seizure, and said, “I think he’s next.” *Sad face*
Nate is a Cancer child of Scorpio parents. Jeff and I both are very intuitive with deep emotions, and persistent and complex personalities. Nate is very persistent, and I can see the intuition waking up in him and he is very, very complex. Its Nate who grasped the idea of California and took off with it. I’ve mentioned moving to five or six states and as many countries in the past couple years and the only ones that Nate agreed whole-heartedly on were California and Egypt.
Nate and I both have a fascination with the pyramids, pharaohs, King Tut, etc. Of course, we’ve traced back ancestors to Northern Africa but I believe everyone can trace back to Africa, and should whether you believe the Bible or Darwinism. There’s enough evidence to support it, not to mention the Fertile Crescent nearby. I just like the jewelry… of course.
Anyway, its all nice to be effusive and overflowing like a volcano, but I’ve also realized that sometimes that’s all it is. That’s not to imply that this normally close-lipped star is not truly and wonderfully in love with Katie nor that their love is somehow tainted due to the uberblabbing they have done but I can guarantee, regardless of sofa jumps and hand pumps, Scientology and creepy new BFF’s named Jessica, Tom and Katie aren’t any happier than I am.
They’re not any happier than any of you when you’re in love. Just because they can smile for the cameras and have their affections and lip-locks in every rag mag on this side of the Atlantic (the other side gets them next week), doesn’t make their love any more or less real than mine or yours. I’ve just learned to be a bit more quiet about it.