January 8, 2008 at 9:29 am (General, The House)

My weight.

The mail for more beads.


The stuff in my house.


My house.

My car.


With Jeff.


My Christmas tree up and converting it to a holiday tree.


Good dreams about beading and Jerry Cantrell. (Yes, all in one dream. Does it get much better than that?)


The fine weather (for one day.)

My first day off without Nate, without family, without traveling, for three (four?) weeks.

Life is good.  Oh yeah, and LSU won, which means OSU lost. Oh, happy day!

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We Got A Tree

December 7, 2007 at 11:47 pm (Cats, Nate, The House, Work)

Its a very small tree. I had thought perhaps my mother had a big tree hanging out in the attic but alas… it is not exactly small enough to be called a table top tree, although that’s where it will be placed. I suppose I can cross my fingers that I will get a great deal on a tree after the holidays. However, since I don’t have the full size tree, I will have enough ornaments to hang on it since it is smaller… I think. I definitely have enough lights to wrap around it twice.


Whiny called off today. She said she hurt her wrist carrying beer or ice or wine up the back stairwell day before yesterday. I covered her shift, especially since Slender was working and he hates working the bar. Plus, he was working a double. No one can tell me he doesn’t hurt when he gets home. I know I’m aching all over and my ass just hurts.

I question this “injury” because Whiny has been trying to get someone to cover her shifts so she can go to Morgantown. We’re hopeful this is to work at our satellite restaurant or to go to graduate school. I was supposed to work tomorrow but Addy and I switched because… well, just because he offered and I accepted. Whiny is scheduled to work 10-9 tomorrow and we have a party of 73 taking over one side of the restaurant tomorrow evening, which is why she’s scheduled for 11 hours.

I don’t have much hope that Whiny will show up tomorrow or Monday and she’s off on Tuesday. My ass is already hurting. I told Addy, Slender, and Assistant Manager that if they need me to work, they had better call early. Pulling long shifts sucks, good money or not.


I got a call from one of my old lawyer bosses. He had told me around the time of my birthday that his new paralegal was nuts and he had been warned by the other staff that if he didn’t fire her they weren’t coming back to work. He fired her last week and called today to ask if I would do some contract work for him. Sure. I need to keep my skills up and I need the money.


The tree doesn’t look so bad. I’ll post pictures when I find the batteries. I also have pictures of the snow. Nate was very excited to help me put the angel and the first ornament on the tree. He said, “Christmas really does make people come together.” He then spent the rest of his time chasing Jack and Hermione away from the tree.


Macy loves me. She still won’t have much, okay, anything, to do with Nate unless he forces her. The minute I go into the bathroom or the computer room alone, she comes to visit. Maybe I’ll post a pic of her too. She’s not happy with me though because of all the static. That pisses her off.


I finally got my small insurance check today. Not really enough to put much of dent in everything, but enough to put a small dent in really important things. No, one of those is not an Ojibwa loom. I was thinking more like… the mortgage. I also got paid today and made enough in cash tips to buy some groceries and put a bit of gas in the car. Things are slowly looking up.

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Living Out LOUD

November 25, 2007 at 2:12 pm (Cats, Music, Nate, The House)

Big Papa said that about me last week. Yeah, you could say that, right?

I saw a shooting star last week too. Then I saw where it was time for the Leonid meteor shower. Since it was so early in the evening, that sucker must have been a real doozy! The trail was intense. Yes, I wished upon the shooting star. It had to do with love. I should have asked for money. Love and I don’t get along very well.

Last Saturday at work was insane. It probably would have been okay had we not had one section closed down for cleaning and then Whiny and I got confused about who was waiting on what table in one section. It was a fucocktomy. We almost came to blows. Not really at each other, well, okay, at each other, but also just out of sheer frustration until they opened my regular side up again. That was accomplished after our owner and executive chef moved all of the tables.

Poor Owner. He’s never worked with me and Whiny before. He thought we were really going to duke it out. The Assistant Manager had to tell him that we were fine and to just, well, leave us alone. I’m sure when I see him tomorrow he’ll ask about it. I’ll make sure he knows that if we ever come to blows we’ll do it in the employee parking lot.

I read Nikki Sixx’s book, “The Heroine Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star.” Anyone not knowing who Nikki Sixx is, he’s the bassist and a founding member of Motley Crue. (If you don’t know who Motley Crue is, then I don’t know what to tell ya.) Wow. Just wow. The reason I’ve never been a hardcore addict, other than smoking and beading, is because at a very young age, right after I discovered I liked drinking too much, I was well aware that if I ever tried the hardcore drugs, I’d like them way too much as well. I’ve drank a lot, smoked a little pot, but kept a healthy distance and aversion to anything more.

But, that doesn’t mean that what Nikki talks about in his book doesn’t apply to me. I chose not to become an addict but I loved the addict. The same feelings he was trying to run from in a coke/heroine/alcohol haze were the same feelings I had, and after the fact, we came to the same conclusions about the situations that were the root of the feelings.

Reading his book helped me. It made me laugh, especially when he talks about Gene Simmons, it disgusted me (I mean, gah! He injected heroine through his DICK!), it gave me insight into some of the bands that I followed and bought albums from in the 80’s, but most of all, I didn’t feel so alone, especially in a time when I have felt very alone. I also read an interview on his MySpace page and I was especially interested in how he talks to his children who are 16, 13, 12, and 6. I found this especially interesting –

“They say that alcoholism is a disease, and that it gets passed on from generation to generation. Trust me, I’ve told my kids about that: ‘You’ve got the crazy gene in you, guys. When it comes time to kick back with the buddies, drink a beer, and watch a football game, just realize that there will be a day when that thing turns on you. So you better keep an eye on it.'”

I just read that to Nate. I talk to him a lot about alcoholism and drugs. I’ve talked to him about Nikki’s book and I think he may be getting old enough to read it. Nikki also said in a speech from Capitol Hill – paraphrasing – “When they talk about painkillers, I ask, what pain are they trying to kill?” I understand that. I get that.

I wrote a letter to him. Been a long time since I’ve written a letter to a rock star. Hell, it may be the first, but after reading his book, he’s just another single parent trying to do the right thing and wondering if everything he’s learned will rub off on his kids. I didn’t send it out, not sure I will, but it made me feel better.

This is my only day off this week and I’m trying to: get clothes together for washing, get dishes stacked in the dishwasher, and then decide who gets to use the water first, clean the living room, decide where to put the Yule Tree I don’t own yet, hang Yule lights without the benefit of an extension cord since my wonderful contractors took the only one that survived the fire (bastards!), clean the rest of my house, change litter boxes, wash what dishes I can’t put in the dishwasher, put something in the crock pot for dinner, love on Nate, and love on the kitties. Those last two prevent me from doing the other things, which doesn’t hurt my feelings a bit.

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November 11, 2007 at 8:41 pm (Attitude in Overdrive, General, The House)

Here I am again. I was sitting on the porch today wondering if there was something I should be writing about and I can’t think of a thing. At least, nothing I feel like delving into with both feet.

I will tell you all that Sean Dustman, from Doc in the Box, is being featured in the History Channel documentary, “Band of Bloggers,” which explores the blogging medium regarding raw and immediate information of the Iraq War from those fighting it. It is on again tomorrow (November 12th) at Noon and 6 p.m. EST. It was a pretty decent documentary although I was a bit miffed that it didn’t mention the blogs nor screen names of any of the men and woman they featured.

I keep subscribing to the notion that good things come to people who wait… and wait… and wait… I’ve kicked that notion to the curb. I finally got my insurance to pay out the final amount of money due me from the fire after a three month wait. Since the check was supposed to have been cut on the 2nd of November and mailed the same day from KY, I expected said paltry, yet important, sum to reach my doorstep no later than Tuesday.

*Crickets chirping*

I e-mailed my contact again and inquired as to where the check had been sent. 48 hours later and with crickets still in my mailbox, I was informed the check had been sent to the address which I have not lived at in over five months. I suppose it is too much to ask that they remember where my residence is since this has been the center-point of the whole deal to start with. My fire, remember? Remember me moving home at the end of May?

I sent back an e-mail that should have read: Dear Fucktard: How the hell could you have forgotten my home address? I think you’re passive-aggressive and need immediate intervention. Do not ever think KY is so far away that I won’t track your ass down and beat the shit out of you. You are a stupid, fucking idiot and it amazes me that you keep your job. Further, had you realized it was YOUR fault that the receipts had not been processed and giving me lip service only increases my ire, then perhaps I wouldn’t have sent that last e-mail regarding my payment, in which I also attempted to keep a civil tongue on the page and not tell you what a lying moron you are. To send my check to my TEMPORARY address is beyond stupid. Honestly, it IS passive-aggressive behavior because I called you to the mat over taking so long to process my receipts – through NO FAULT of my own.

Bite my ass, bitch. I loathe you. If given the chance, I will fuck with you, hard. Except I’ll do you the pleasure of informing you that it is I who is doing so and why.


Further, I’m also faced with another fucktard that can’t get her shit together. This also involves MY MONEY. Why do people think that your money is their money and they must protect it at every cost? No people, my 401(k) is not YOUR MONEY. That is MY MONEY that you are mishandling and I will not stop until I have wrenched every dime of it from your scum sucking, bad investing hands.

Telling me that it isn’t anyone’s fault but it’s your “workload” is insufficient and incompetent. You’ve know for FIVE MONTHS that I wished to take my money off of your hands. FIVE MONTHS. This is not insufficient notice. I believe that to be more than enough time to print out some paperwork for me to sign. Yes, I know all about the penalties. If you get me my motherfuckin’ money, all of those penalties will be offset from the tax break I’ll get because of the fire, numbnuts. That is, IF you are capable of disbursing my money before the end of the year.

No, I don’t have any sympathy for you nor your “workload.” If 50 people walk through the door of my restaurant, I can’t look at my boss and say, “I just can’t handle the workload.” I would be fired or severely reprimanded. If my “workload” is more than I can handle sufficiently, I ask for, and receive, help. Perhaps you could learn a bit from my work environment. Also, I may point out, that my former boss, the man who you have to have sign my forms as well, would not tolerate a “too heavy workload” excuse from me and I certainly don’t expect to hear it again. Again lady, not five hour or five days, but FIVE MONTHS. Get off your ass.

Fucking morons.

In other news, I’m seriously contemplating purchasing a wood stove, should I have ever have sufficient funds to do so. Wood is free. My parents just bought 9 acres of land that needs to be cleared. They have an additional 500 or so acres of woodland where they live now. Its rather stupid of me not to have a wood burning stove in my house regardless of how I feel about burning wood in my house. Much cheaper and if the power goes out, oh well, I’ll be warm and toasty.

The way I figure it, the stove would cost about $500. Gas to bring wood to the house would be about $160 a year. I haven’t gotten my new electric and gas bills since its gotten really cold, but my bet is, I’d save a boatload of cash. And, the cost of utilities will continue to rise and my wood will continue to be free. So, there we are.

Guess I had more to write about than I thought. A bunch of complaining that doesn’t help anything.

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Six Months

July 31, 2007 at 1:37 am (Cats, Crazy Shit, Memories, The House)

It has been six months since the fire. I feel as though a magical clock ticks down every month. An internal clock which draws me deeper into darkness as the 28th approaches. My mom says I haven’t talked about it enough. She means, to her. Maybe I haven’t, maybe I have. Maybe, I don’t want to.

There’s only so much I can bite off and chew on at a time. I’m not sure that reliving the moment when I discovered my house on fire or that moment that I found Ozzy by the door or the moment I saw Lola on the couch or the first time I saw Smokey on my bed or digging Napoleon’s burnt body out of the computer room floor is really all that cathartic.

I’ll always have more questions than answers and I’ll always carry a certain guilt that they were innocent and defenseless and I should have been here to protect them. I hate it that I don’t know what really happened, how it really happened. I’ve gone over it and over it in my mind. The cardboard boxes that were in the computer room, the flat ones. I was packing clothes to give away and I shoved them way back into the computer room because the cats had knocked one over onto the furnace before. There were some other papers there but I moved them too.

When I did that, I noticed the floor beside of the floor furnace was hot. It had never been hot before but I didn’t see anything. I didn’t smell anything. I just moved everything and then, before I left, I turned the furnace down so it wouldn’t kick on as much. Ozzy and Cali were in one of the boxes on top on my other desk by the computer room door, Ireland was asleep on top of my computer monitor, Smokey was on my bed, Lola was on the top of the couch, Marco was asleep on the end table beside the front door, Midnight was hiding in the bathroom, as always, and Napoleon was… I don’t remember. He wasn’t asleep though.

Napoleon, Ireland, Ozzy, and Cali were the only ones who moved from where I had last seen them. Ozzy and Cali were in the living room, Ireland was in the door to my bedroom, and Napoleon was almost right in the center of the computer room. Something happened with that floor furnace. Something caused Ireland, Ozzy, and Cali to leave the room right beside of it. Napoleon, well, he just came looking for me.

I never really got a straight answer from anyone about why the house caught on fire. I’m not sure what evidence they found or what that evidence meant, although they generally seemed to feel that something fell onto the furnace, however, I know that where the floor felt hot, was where the big, burned out place was beside of the furnace. Everything else I saw during the fire was distorted by panic and shock. Eyewitness testimony is the most unreliable.

Part of me never wants to know. I never want to know if one of the cats somehow pushed one of those boxes onto the furnace or some errant sheet of paper caused this fiasco. I never want to know if there was something more I could have done. Some days I can barely live with it as it is.

At least I don’t dream about it and if I do, I don’t remember it. I do, however, remember part of a dream I had late Saturday afternoon. I came home from work, turned on Court TV, and took a nap. Not surprising, I dreamed of violence. I saw a police officer shot and he did, what at first I thought, was the strangest thing. He flicked at the bullet wound as though it were a bug or bee. He tried to act as though he wasn’t shot but then he collapsed and he died. Then it dawned on me that a gunshot, at first, probably would feel like a wasp or a hornet sting. A painful burning sensation that shoots fire through your body and without thought, just as a learned reaction, maybe you would try and flick off the wasp.

I woke up and Cold Case Files was on Court TV. Again, not surprising, it was a case in which two police officers were gunned down on a routine traffic stop in the 1950’s. So, don’t fall asleep while watching Court TV folks. It makes you have weird dreams.

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This and That

July 15, 2007 at 10:37 am (Beading, Friends, The House, Work)

I had the first visitors to the newly refurbished Casa Peach yesterday. LisaB. and Se7en made a stop on their way back to the Big Apple and treated Nate and I to dinner. We also got to meet the famous Ally da Pup, and she is perfectly precious. It was wonderful seeing Se7en again and meeting Lisa, who is just as warm and interesting in person as she is on her blog. I believe I kept them too long though, just so happy to have them here, yet they were very tired, having driven up from Memphis. If you ever get the chance, please come back and visit me again.

Over at HiddenMahala’s, I found that I can get paid for blogging about certain things. I’m not sure I’ll be accepted because I can have an atrocious potty mouth at times, but, you may be seeing more interesting posts from me in the days to come. I’ll even blog more often. I gotta make money somehow, somewhere, folks.

I took Se7en and Lisa to a local family restaurant. I had written an article about their restaurant for my writing job and I liked the food so much I went back again and again. I mentioned to one of the owners that I was looking for more regular work and she said to come and see her on Tuesday and she would put me to work. AWESOME! Frankly, I really want to work in the bistro, but work is work. I told her I had had an interview but if it didn’t pan out I would see her first thing on Tuesday. *WHEW!*

I’m also getting ready to join a craft guild of sorts. Its actually a gallery where I could work and/or display my jewelry. They also sponsor shows and such and there are different types of artisans involved in the group – painters, a Bargello quilter, a sculptor, and others. It will cost $50 a month but with the number of shows I could do, plus they have the gallery at a local “WV made” outlet in the months of November and December, it could be very, very lucrative. Lucrative IF I can get more supplies in here!

I’m working on a new bracelet for me. It is something I have designed myself based on Turkish kilims. I should have it finished today. I’ll post a pic when it’s done.

Have a beautiful Sunday, I know it is here.

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July 9, 2007 at 9:55 pm (Beading, The House, Work)

I promised Julez a week ago or so that I would post some pictures of my beadwork. 

This lovely piece survived the fire, however, the thread is degrading in the strap so it will have to be replaced before sold.  Malachite donut and 4 mm beads shown against black and white background.



Next is lovely piece which also survived the fire. It is actually a strung piece instead of beadwoven and also needs to be fixed. Seems it got knocked around a bit and the wire broke free of the crimp bead.  The teardrop center is, I believe, jasper and the other beads are mixture of jasper, jade, and maybe some dyed turquoise. I can’t remember.


I just finished this piece today. The center donut is rose quartz and unfortunately I don’t remember what the pinkish, purplish beads are. They are iridescent to a degree and I believe someone said they were a type of opal or pearl or something totally different than how they appeared.


And a close-up of the center


Next is a chevron necklace with dichoric beads.


Earrings, we all love earrings. All of these are complete except for poor Nemo, he still needs a mate.


And, there’s always the “works in progress”

An amulet bag, minus half the fringe and a strap. This is only about 1 1/2 by 2 inches.


And this lapis donut with sodalite beads


And naturally, Nate and I have to model a few pieces.





And because you all want to know where I lay my precious head, and you want to see my brand new bed that I love so much.


And, that is all.

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Something Evil This Way Comes

June 15, 2007 at 9:58 pm (Cats, Crazy Shit, The House)

Something is definitely lurking about in my house. I have all but dispelled this thing from my abode but a proper cleansing and blessing must take place. The sea salt, sage smudge stick, besom, and wand at the ready. You haven’t seen my lovely besom (broom) have you? My wonderful cousin got for me as a housewarming gift. I would post a picture but I’m just too lazy and tired to do it right now. It is beautiful though. Once I can, I’m getting some special hooks so I can hang it over the door. Right now it is sitting in the corner, waiting.

I always thought spirits were, well, nice. Actually, a priest is the one who made me rethink that. I very forward thinking priest who made the observation that if you believe in good, then you must believe in bad, in evil, for without one, the other cannot exist. Without one, there is no balance. I saw a lot of wisdom in those words.

 While at the apartment one evening, a wicked wind blew and something blew in with it. At the time, I stood and defied it. I recognized it for what it was. I still recognize it, this cranky little poltergiestish asshole. Not quite as evil as it would want to be but still a worthy opponent.

My cats are well aware of its presence and have not been acting themselves. Jack, our little pickaninny, is sick. He had a trip to the vet to rid him of a nasty case of worms and a URI. Since then, he’s been a bit lethargic and vomiting clear liquid. I got him some wet food and he did eat that. Since then, he’s been more like Jack. Hermione is just aggravated to death and twitches her tail now, even when she walks. Macy, ever watchful Macy, stands guard at the front door but has also taken to hiding, even with just me and Nate and that pissy spirit here.

I’m not real happy. Not at all. I’m tired and honestly, my luck hasn’t been so great lately. I’m hopeful that a fresh start will do us all some good. I know I could use it, and a big lump of cash.

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Uh Oh, I’m In Trouble With KtP

June 6, 2007 at 10:56 pm (Black Stone Cherry, Cats, Friends, Music, My Travels, Nate, The House)

Ummm… has it been a week already? Wow, time flies! And nothing gets unpacked. Friday, the 1st, I spent unpacking and attempting unsuccessfully to catch up on my sleep amidst having to pay the mortgage, and the electrical problems, and people running in and out all day long, including my parents and the contractors.

That evening I went to see my buddies in Jubal Kane at a local watering hole. Yeah, I was late because I was too busy sleeping and being stuck in a sobriety checkpoint to make it on time. I stayed for a while and then took my happy ass home and back to bed because the following day I went to visit my friends, Kim and Matt, in TN.

Then, we went to visit our buddies Shep,


Joe (during sound check),

and Chris, Jon, John Fred, and Ben,

 in Chattanooga. I almost got into a fight because some peeps were messing with the equipment and guitar picks and I told them to leave it alone and then I told Dave, who also told them to, “Keep your hands OFF my stage.” The guy involved didn’t like that so well so when Dave walked off he called me the “C” word a few times. Sticks and stones, love, sticks and stones.

Then we hung out for a bit and we drove back to Kim and Matt’s and I slept and then drove home on Sunday. Monday, I went to the my hometown out in BFE to pick up a TV my aunt gave me. Tuesday, my little man graduated from Elementary School…*sniff* How DID he grow up so fast???

Can you tell what I ate the most of when I was pregnant with him?

Nate showing his horns and happy, happy to have passed the fifth grade…

Then, there’s Jack.

Who can get anything done while watching this sprite entertain himself and us with his antics. That mouse hangs from the closet door and squeaks when the cats play with it. Middle of the night *thump* *squeaksqueaksqueak* *thump* *thump* *meowwrrr* *squeaksqueaksqueak*

The contractors have also had quite a blast playing with Jack, especially Ron. I think this is why my house STILL ISN’T FINISHED!

Nate’s antics are just as entertaining…

Toga/Superhero party!

Slither under the bed like a snake….

And, of course, I started back to work after having taken last week off for the move and the house isn’t even close to being in the shape I want it to be, but, it’s livable and that’s what matters. We have the weekend, after a sojourn at the pool, weather permitting, to get everything unpacked and situated. I hope. Doesn’t look tooooo bad, does it?

Notice my bed is missing, yeah, I don’t have one yet! However, I do have a Roman solider/superhero guarding me.

Nate’s room looks the best… at least from this angle.

And that’s what we’ve been up to and Nate and I wish you good day and give you the Blue Tongue Salute, totally befitting a Roman solider/toga master/superhero and his Momma.

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Blue Moon

May 31, 2007 at 11:56 pm (The House)

For the first time in 124 days, I am blogging from home, surfing on my neighbors’ unsecured wireless service, with their permission. Seems as though the contractors neglected to hook up my phone lines correctly or completely.

 Today there is a blue moon and not just that, but the moon also moved between the signs of Scorpio and Sagittarius today. A very powerful time, filled with magikal energy as I am, once again, Lady and Mistress of Peach Manor. I am truly blessed.

 My homecoming has been much different than I had imaged. First, I had imagined it would have been a month sooner. Then that there would have been time for a proper house blessing, that the stove would not be shut down due to a gas leak, the microwave would be installed, beds to sleep in, and a bit more organization than I am normally known for. I had hoped to play special songs on the stereo, pictures would be hung on the walls, and I would have had a bit more sleep, at least more than the six hours I’ve had in the past two days. And yes, perhaps someone special to share it with.

We build up this image in our minds, this perfect scenario. Rarely does it occur, at least to me. A reminder not to live in that graven image in our minds, but rather the moment. The moments of peace; Nate sleeping on the loveseat, Jack swatting at my typing hands with his wee, yet incredibly sharp, kitten claws, his motorboat purr drowning out the whir of the ceiling fan, a full moon that is not blue but burnt orange, streaks of heat lightning in high topped clouds, a soothing warm breeze, and the knowledge I have no where else to be but here.

 Welcome home.

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