Look, its a fuzzy kitty named Jirachi, or Itty Bitty Kitty or Little Man. Yes, my left eye is swollen in this picture. I’d been outside cutting weeds and my eye has been inflamed for a while. Yes, I just got new contacts. No, I don’t know why.
I’m having quite few problems with my left knee, for not apparent reason. I’ve always had a bad knee, Osgood-Schlatter’s disease, but, unless I bump it or really, really overwork it, it doesn’t bother me. Its really bothering me. Its pretty swollen too. Bah! Change of weather, change of seasons, someone sneezes… stupid knee.
Anyway, I would like to point out that Jeanette has once again proven to be my “sister incarnate” by describing beetles as “crunchy.” We don’t like crunchy bugs, they are gross.
Brighton requested a picture of a fuzzy kittens and since she is also my “sister incarnate,” I obliged.
I have not checked on Leslie, I’ll assume all is well until I have to mow again.
Things on eHarmony are… going. One gentleman is rather enthusiastic, unfortunately more enthusiastic than I am, especially since in our first real e-mail “conversation” he talked about me relocating if we “hit it off.” I was my loving, direct self when I said, “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” Not in those exact words, it went more like… it would have to be more than, “hit it off” for me to sell my house, go to court over Nate, leave my family, and my entire social structure. I get the feeling he’s a little needy. Needy is not for me. We’ll see.
Another guy is very interesting. Our personality profiles show us to be almost exact opposites. I like him though, because he’s not like me. We’ll see.
I like another guy, we’ve talked on the phone a few times. He works evening shift, I work day shift. We don’t get to talk much. We’ll see.
T-Bird and I are on the outs. She’s mad at me and I’m a little miffed that it took her so long to tell me why because now I can’t hardly remember anything that happened that day. I also don’t agree with her selective memory. Its taken her almost three weeks to tell me what’s wrong and I wish she would have addressed it sooner. I also know my son is no angel, but I also don’t need her to tell me how to raise him. Yes, we have very different parenting styles and that’s the reason why Nate and I don’t go visit often, besides the fact she has three boys running around.
I’m at the point where we’ll either get through it or we won’t. I’ve held my tongue numerous times, NUMEROUS times, and the times I did say something it didn’t do any good, especially how she’ll believe her son over Nate, which, understandably pisses him off. Nate is a typical kid but he’s for the most part, a very gentle-natured fellow and honestly, he’s not used to wrestling around like a banshee (which is what she called him), like her kids are. He doesn’t have siblings or cousins at home, where he spends the majority of his time, and even then, his older brother is going to be 21 this year.
I learned with my nephews that just because they’re little, doesn’t mean what they do doesn’t hurt, and the same goes for her nephews and her son. Don’t pick a “fight” with someone bigger and older and just expect them to take it because you’re younger and smaller and always expect someone to make exceptions for it. Her kids are totally into the wrestling thing. Fine. Nate’s into video games. Not fine with T-Bird. I disagree. I see no difference in Nate playing video games for hours and her kids playing with wrestlers and watching wrestling and wrestling each other for hours.
Trust me, the little shit isn’t sitting inside 8 hours a day, playing video games while I’m at work. He’s even stopped taking his PSP to camp. He’s brown as a little Melungeon from swimming one or two times a week, hiking in the woods once a week, and whatever else it is that they do. It seems like he’s grown at least four inches in the last week and he’s actually making friends and wanting to do things with the group at camp, even on my days off.
He and his friend Cameron, the one who lived next door, get together about every other week and play Pokemon and Bakugan and all that stuff, and compare video games and play games on the computer.
As far as I know, he’s not had a problem at camp and I rarely, if ever, have to call him and Cameron down for anything, other than staying up too late. He has his fusses with neighborhood kids at his dad’s, especially over basketball and things like that. But, that’s how kids learn, from play, from interacting with their peers and not having Mom or Dad always step in to make sure things are fair and even. Life isn’t fair nor even.
And T-Bird likes to control that aspect of things in her kids favor. I don’t call that fair nor even and this has been pretty consistent since her son was born. She wants things to be fair and even for her son, even when it may not be for Nate, and I have a big problem with this. But, she doesn’t listen. I take things under consideration, I try to see the big picture. Frankly, she created her own problem and then didn’t like it when everyone stepped into it and it didn’t turn out the way she wanted. She has a saying that its her house, her rules. That’s fine, but I don’t like your rules, especially when they always find my son at fault, and given she’s the only one who seems to have a problem… that makes it my problem too.
I intend on telling her that, in about three weeks. Because, like my sister T-Bird, I can take my time as well. Meow.
I was out mowing my hayfield yard this afternoon when I came across this little fella/girlie.
Yes, that’s a snake. A pine snake to be exact. While it resembles the timber rattlesnake, one can tell the difference by looking at their eyes (and the coloring is not nearly as dark). I know, who wants to get close enough to find out. Ummmm, that would be me.
Leslie, as we have named the snake (after Leslie from “The Bridge to Terabithia”), seemed to be rather shy and not exactly aggressive. Leslie did curl up the standard rattler S-shape, as if to strike, but instead just wanted to meander off under the clippings and such. This is another reason why its often mistaken for a rattler.
Just so you know, there are only two poisonous snakes in WV, the timber rattler and the copperhead. No copper head, no yellow tail (baby coppers have lemon yellow tails). And, as you can see, Leslie has nice round eyes/pupils, unlike the pit vipers which have pupils like a cat.
And of course, you may wonder why I named the post “Beetle!” if I’m showing you pictures of a snake I found under the planter in my backyard. Its because I said, “Oh, look, a snake!” when I saw Leslie the first time. Granted, Leslie is a little snake, had Leslie been larger I may have temporarily lost my mind and killed it with my weedeater before figuring out that Leslie is harmless. Had I seen a copper head and a lemon yellow tail, Leslie would not be with us today.
I thought it was the most beautiful snake I had ever seen with markings I had never before seen in a WV snake. I’ve seen plenty of garter snakes, ribbon snakes, and black racers, which rise up a foot or more off the ground and “run.” Come to find out, the pine snake is pretty shy and becoming more scarce. Leslie likes to hide in the grass…
Anyway, I went to look up Leslie’s markings and didn’t quite discover much, other than he/she wasn’t poisonous… I had to dig a little deeper to find the pictures of the pine snake. So, Nate followed me outside and we oohed and ahhed and took pictures. Then we left Leslie under the planter to recover from his/her encounter with humans.
The reason this post is named “Beetle!” is because most people would have yelled, “SNAKE!” and ran for their lives when they saw Leslie. (I may have also had Leslie been ginormous… then I would have gone back and looked, becasue I’m morbidly curious that way). However, I hate beetles. I hate all bugs, but I hate beetles the most. I hate their hard little shells, and the fact they fly, and have sticky legs. Scarabs are a type of beetle and I detest watching the flesh-eating scarabs from “The Mummy” devour people. GROSS! (This does not prevent me from owning paintings with scarabs and other renderings of the sacred scarab, I’m just glad their dead.)
Just for clarification, spiders are not bugs, spiders are arachnids and given that I am a Scorpio, arachnids don’t bother me. I saw several wolf spiders today as I weed-eated – the females definitely stood out as they have laid their eggs and are carrying their white pods around still attached to their arachnid vaginas, although I’m quite certain its not called that. I will sit and watch spiders spin their webs or just sit there and wait for an unfortunate beetle to fly into the web and then I rejoice for I hate beetles.
Snakes eat beetles and spiders eat beetles, and I hate beetles, so long live spiders and snakes that eat beetles.
I jumped off of a big rock yesterday. Anyone who knows me, knows, I’M SCARED OF HEIGHTS! I don’t like heights, unless I’m belted, buckled, or otherwise confined, like say, an airplane or a roller coaster. You do not find me on ladders over three steps, or high in tree stands, nope, I’m a chickenshit when it comes to heights. Oh, I’ve done some mountain climbing, but, I don’t look down and I don’t go very far up.
So, when we disembarked at a jump rock on the New River yesterday, I went right along, lemur-like, to jump off of this ginormous rock, which is older than Big Ernie himself, into a pool of water, undetermined in depth, but probably 20-30 feet. As I watched other rafters and my co-workers take the plunge, I really had no choice, since it was, at that point, the only way off of that little piece of heaven. The rafts had dropped us and then went around the point to pick us up.
I can’t begin to tell you how I had to force my legs to move and move fast enough that I wouldn’t be able to back out at the last moment. About two seconds into the jump I almost peed my pants because folks, IT WAS A LONG WAY DOWN!!!! It was the longest 5-6 seconds of my life. But, hey, I survived and it was the most terrifying 5-6 seconds I spent on the river.
The rest of the five hours, 59 minutes, and 55 seconds were spent paddling, swimming, running the rapids, trying not to fall off of the raft, and laughing my ass off. After one of the runs, we all took our helmets off and floated down the river on the current, our guide (a Mountaineer Gondolier) expertly guiding the raft beside of us. Candyman, our evening bartender, who was in the “sweep raft” (the last raft that picks up all of the people who fall out and can’t get back to their raft – our raft was at the front) was floating along and our Mountaineer Gondolier, Devo (not his real name), asked him if he had any new jokes… he’s a bartender, of course he has the raunchiest jokes out there! Candyman told one joke that made me laugh so hard I almost cried.
We got to swim a lot between rapids, we didn’t lose anyone from the raft, and I sat in front for most of the trip. IT WAS SO FREAKIN’ AWESOME!! The section of the river we were on had Class III – V, Class V+ being the most wicked. It definitely whetted our appetites for more, so GM and I are planning another trip, and perhaps we’re taking a few co-workers with us for an overnight Gauley trip.
In the Fall, they open the Summerville Dam which pours millions of gallons of water into the Gauley River, causing the most intense whitewater experience in North America, if not the world.
The New River flows under the world’s 2nd longest single arch bridge, The New River Gorge Bridge. Its beautiful isn’t it?
Now, imagine floating down the river, directly under that bridge. That’s what I did. With turkey vultures perched on rocks and peregrine falcons overhead, nothing to hear but the sounds of cicadas, splashing, and laughing. *Sigh*
Makes you glad a couple million years ago the Great Mother saw fit to turn a piece of swampland into the Appalachian Mountains – and the great rivers rose (and flowed northwards, in the case of the New River – which isn’t “new” at all and is generally accepted as possibly being one of the oldest rivers in the world, somewhere between 10 and 360 million years, give or take an millenia or two) and formed the great gorges and beauty that is West Virginia. There’s a reason they call it, “Almost Heaven.”
So, we adrenanline junkies are ready for another trip to whitewater country, to test our courage, mettle, and idiocy against Mother Nature. Sadly, I’m not going to have the funds for my trip to Oklahoma (unless a benevolent guest tips me $500!), so I’ll just go rafting instead. Its much closer – an hour’s drive by scenic route without pee breaks and sight-seeing. I’ll make it to Oklahoma, just not this year. Hell, maybe Oklahoma will come to me.
Anyone interested in white water rafting in the great state of West Virginia should visit the North American River Runners website. They rock! And, you should call me. I’d be glad to go along!
Nate interrupted all the great thoughts I had for posts. So, you get the hodge-podge… again.
Things with 21 Year Old… he’s going back to school, ya know, college, which is about 2 1/2 hours away from here. I told him we would miss him and he said, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you guys too. I hope I can come back and work some during holidays.” That’s a good sign and I’d better work fast!
Aforementionedly (look, I made a word up, or is that a word?), we are going white-water rafting on Sunday. My mother began extolling the dangers of white-water rafting to include: head injury causing unconsciousness leading to drowning, drowning, being held under by the rapids which would result in drowning, head injury not causing unconsciousness but being held under by the rapids which would result in drowning… I get the feeling she drowned in a past life.
The three things she didn’t mention but are far more likely to happen: Getting wet, minus the whole drowning scenario, sunburn, and mosquito bites. The words “fun” and “adventure” are not in her vocabulary. I would like to include the words “getting laid” and my co-workers are very likely to include the word “intoxication” all of which are included under the “fun” and “adventure” categories which for her, do not exist.
Although I am quite poor at this time, I am planning a trip to… Oklahoma. Ooooook-laaaaaa-hooooooo-maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. I know, what the fuck is in Oklahoma, and guess what? Its not Alice in Chains. HA! Fooled ya! Its Black Stone Cherry and Stone Temple Pilots at Kattfest and ya’ll know I’m all about the cats! Can you say… massive road trip? To Oklahoma, in the dead of summer, with gas prices skyrocketing, by myself! Just me, two time zones, and 15 hours of open road.
At this point I’m wondering whether I can make the trip and NOT tell my mother. After all, I might be raped/murdered at a rest area, sucked into a tornado, crushed in a wild crowd rampage, raped and murdered in my sleep at the KOA campground, abducted by aliens, or I might even drown. And who knows what might happen when I wander into northern Texas! The horror!
Yes, my friends, the world is inherently dangerous. I know this. However, and as I have pointed out to my mother, I am more likely to be raped and murdered by someone I KNOW than by a complete stranger. Not saying it doesn’t happen, I am well aware of who Ted Bundy was, however, I also know when my key is turned, nothing or no one can stop it.
The question is, do I want to wait on my front porch for death or shall I make it chase me to the ends of the Earth? I think we all know the answer to that.
Remember a while back I was supposed to have a date? And then I didn’t mention it again? The reason is that the gentleman in question told me one day that his birthday was the following day… sometime in May. What a great time to quell my curiosity and find out for sure how old he is, so I asked him. His response: Old enough to drink. Well, that’s anywhere from 21 to 109, but he really, literally, meant “old enough to drink,” as in 20 freakin’ 1.
Ya’ll know I’m open-minded, but, I didn’t like him that much. So, now I find myself in the same position with someone else. See, we got this new cook at work a few months back and I’ve knew he was young, today I found out how young… like 21. Someone made the comment that I was old enough, technically, to be his Mama. Trust me, “motherly feelings” is not what I have for him, far from it.
It sort of snuck up on me, like shit does. Shit is sneaky. One day I looked across the line into his startling blue eyes and said, to myself, “Ahhhh, fuck.” He’s rather quiet most of the time but we have a running joke that I’m going to start charging him for everytime I have to change his clock-in time because he forgets. He flirts across the line as much as I do. We make faces at each other and if I ask for something special he’ll tell me no while he’s doing it.
I shared my feelings with my GM and she said, “You’ll have to wait until he leaves us next month because as lead, you’re over him.” WHAT? I’m a freakin’ lead, not a sous chef. I don’t tell those guys what to do! That’s “Back of House,” I’m “Front of House.” Besides, I really have no idea if he’s just being nice and flirty or if he actually likes me, despite our age difference. I know he acts way more mature than some all of the other cooks who have way more years on them than he does.
Even when we’re cranking out the food and things are hectic, he never loses his cool or his temper. He doesn’t get too pissy when the servers make mistakes, even when it means more work for him. He just goes about his business of cranking out food instead of running his mouth.
Did I mention how good looking he is? And those incredible blue eyes that look out over the line at me?
I talked to Addy about it too, since he shared his crush on our new bartender, who is no longer new, and no longer there. He said, “Maybe its just a crush. You do work with him everyday and he’s a nice guy, the same with me and Megan.” I pointed out that he and Megan each had significant others and Timmy and I are both single. And, he and Megan were a bit closer in age. Although, he said that since she left he doesn’t think about her.
We’re having a restaurant outing next weekend, white water rafting, so maybe I’ll see what happens when we get out of the restaurant. I don’t care how old he is, I like him. Shit.
Was a wonderful affair, wish you could have been here. We went ice skating, saw a movie (Hancock, which we all really enjoyed), and played Rock Band, a gift from one of my BFF’s Beanie. Dude, ya know he went out and bought “Guitar Hero – Aerosmith” today??? This is how I know he is my son, besides the fact I shoved him out of my crotch.
Hat tip to The Merry Wife of Baltimore – Cybele – and Fuzzy on their birthdays as well. Hope you had wonderful ones!
I went four wheeling on Saturday evening with Dave, his daughter Kaelyn, and friends of his. Dave is Kevin’s cousin and it was nice being out in the woods, in the dark, near the water, in the fog. It was really, really nice and Kaelyn reminds me of me when I was her age. She is 10 and has a foot to match Nate’s. BIG.
The next day we all went to the Arts & Crafts Fair and I picked up a new focal bead (Dave gifted it to me), and a new hair barette made in the lacquerware style. It is AMAZING! Watching this lady, Linda Tong, do her thing was just… I felt like a bull in a china shop. Google her, she’s awesome and her prices are SO REASONABLE!
On the way to the fair, I showed Dave and Kaelyn some of my work, which included AZ and his wife’s wedding gift, which I still haven’t given them. (Its a Christmas tree ornament in their wedding colors. No, don’t ask why I made it, I just did, a long time ago!) Dave asked, “I’ve never met his wife. What’s she like? Is she like us?” I snorted and said, “If she were like us, he’d be married to me.”
Dave is a tall, gawky redneck, who brags a bit too much, has a great sense of humor, a size 15 shoe, smokes too much pot, drinks too much beer, has a heart of gold, and normally doesn’t know when to shut up. That shut him up.
I figured he was trying to figure out whether or not to go there and he figured real fast that I’d said all I was going to say on the matter and that was that. It felt good to be honest though, instead of just pretending that it didn’t bother me.
I’m stuck on “Again” by … wait for it… Alice. In. Chains.
Hey, let them do it again, yeah
Hey, you said you were my friend
Hey, turn me upside down, Oh
Hey, feelin’ so down
You made a fool of me again
Hey, I know I made the same mistake, yeah
I, I won’t do it again, no
Why, Why you slap me in the face, oww
I, I didn’t say it was OK, no
You violate a part of me again
Whoo whoo, yeah
Hey, you had time to think it out, yeah
Hey, Your weak will won’t help her heal her heart
Hey, I’ll bet it really eats you up
Extending part of me again
Wow, wonder why I’m stuck on “Again,” besides the fact it has a great beat and I love dancing to it.
I’ve been having anger issues related to AZ, in case you couldn’t tell. Its about time, right?
I feel a certain responsibility to those that love me. I feel especially responsible to be gentle with those that love me in a more special way than I love them. I feel a responsibility not to lead things on or to pretend that things are not what they seem for my own gain. In all my Southerness, I find that rude, if not heartless.
Once again, I face the, “but he did help me when I needed him…” scenario, same as with Jeff, and we see where that’s gotten me. What nailed it, was when he came to me for comfort after Kevin died and two weeks later he asked her to marry him. And I was with him in January out of spite. Again, we see where that got me.
What’s so hard about saying, “I’m in love with her,” and then not touching me? If that’s how he really felt, which is obvious now, why not just say it and then let me be? Why the game? Was I suppose to understand this in some way? False hope? Bullshit? And, I could point the finger at myself more if it had just been me, but it wasn’t. He made sure she and I didn’t have contact, he made sure she wasn’t there, he made sure I was. And he knew how I felt, and he used it against me.
I’ll never have the answers I want because he’ll never fess up as to what was really going through his mind. The only logical explanation to his behavior is he’s a dick and he simply liked the way I sucked his cock. But don’t think I don’t miss him. When I’ve felt this way before, angry about something, hurt, sad, I went to him. I don’t have him anymore, not that I ever really did.
That is what I would have to name Luna and Jirachi if I were to name them for what they appear to be. Nate and I brought home the new kitties on Monday after I dumped half a vial of flea medicine on each of them. Ugh! YUCK! Although I had originally intended on only taking Luna, I just couldn’t leave poor little Jirachi behind. (Jirachi was named by Nate… after a Pokemon character. When I want to irritate Nate I call Jirachi, “Little Jerry.” Hee, hee)
Jirachi reminds me of Smokey when I first got him. Tiny, pathetic, flea-bitten little creature, weighing only a pound, given to meowing pitifully and grunting like a pig. Luna is much heavier than her brother and generally looks healthier because she’s all fur! Lots of fur. Took me an hour to comb all of the flea crap out of her coat. When I looked down at her from my chair she looked for the world like a little opossum asleep beside my chair and I know this because I used to have an opossum.
Jirachi, on the other hand, is so, so tiny, but has this poofy facial and chest hair. When he shakes his head it stands out and he looks the world like a tiny little lion. He’s comical. Jack and Tango were initially very curious and Jack still isn’t sure what to think but Tango has taken to loving on the kittens, to the point he was holding Luna down with a paw and licking her silly.
Macy, well, she’s been so pissed off she’s run around with her tail straight up in the air and even escaped outside and hid under the A/C unit for 24 hours. I guess she was on strike. She won’t make up to them, hell, she still hasn’t made up to Jack and Tango and I’ve had Jack for over a year. She hates other cats and she barely tolerates me. But the little witch will just have to get over it.
I took some pictures, as best I could, to show the new beebies and the difference in their sizes.