November 15th – 21st
Some shots taken with my: Canon Powershot G9
Others taken with this loaner: Nikon Coolpix P90
(click through and view photo info to see which)
Cheating a little since my laptop was in a coma and I didn’t post any photos last week – I’m going to throw photos from both weeks in here. Neener.
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
He shifts his weight
And moves on
From miles away
He says he loves me
I say it back
Then he moves on
It’s quiet at night
So much emptiness to fill
For a spell
I stand in the kitchen
Like a cliche
I balance on heels, making dinner
Laughter floats in waves
Through the house
Echoing off the walls
Like bouncing balloons
It swells and ebbs
It rolls back and forth
Like tickle fights
There’s football on TV
My feet find comfort
His hands find my back
Our bed is warm again, briefly
Then he shifts his weight
Says he loves me
And moves on again
Takes his music and goes
Alone, in the quiet night
I can remember the melody
And hum it myself
We stay behind
Hold it down
Occupy our time
Here and there
*For updates on Anissa, you can visit her CaringBridge Page.
I was going to tell you about how great it is to have my laptop back and tell you a little about what I went through to get it fixed, but being on Twitter more again today led me to learn some awful news about a wonderful lady who is a friend and fellow blogger.
(This is her second. You can read about her first one in 2005 here.)
Often when you hear bad news about someone, the first thing you think of is that last time you talked to them or saw them in person. In October, Anissa, Mishelle, and I spoke at a seminar and we got to share laughs and drinks together the night before. It was a fabulous time because of the amazing company.
photo credit: Mishelle Lane, © all rights reserved
Anissa is such a fireball and, at the same time, just the most lovable sweetheart you’ve ever met.
This post, at Aiming Low, tells how you can help her and her family – especially if you are in the Atlanta area. Please visit Aiming Low for this post as well as new updates on her condition and how you can continue to help.
(If that page won’t load for you, it may be getting hit with a lot of traffic, and you can go here for the information it holds, as well.)
If you have a chance, send Anissa love on Twitter – (her handle is @AnissaMayhew) When you tweet, you can use the #hashtag #prayersforanissa so that your messages join together with those of many others thinking about and supporting her and her family.
You can also show your support by changing your Twitter Avatar to a photo of you and Anissa together, if you have one. If you don’t, you can still show support with your Twitter Avatar by adding a Twibbon to it. There are currently two available:
For updates on her condition and to leave her and her family supportive messages on the guestbook, please visit Anissa’s CaringBridge Page.
You can also send her messages on or her Facebook page if you’re a friend of hers there. And by all means, pray, if that is your way. Remember, if you are in Atlanta, you may be able to help her family in a more practical way (see link above).
We are all used to seeing Anissa’s smiling face online and being entertained by her quick wit, her fabulous humor… and her magnificent rack. (She was First Runner Up in Bewb Fest 09, remember?)
Tonight, many of us are shedding tears and wringing our hands in worry. She is being showered with love, lifted in prayer, and thought of all across the world. There is hope, boundless. There are jokes and stories being told in her honor. We wait for updates and continue to push our strength out to her and her loved ones.
Anissa, there’s tons of love for you from all of your friends, all over. We are sending you everything we can, and we won’t give up! We all know you’d do the same for any of us.
Now get your ass out of that hospital and back here where you’re supposed to be making us laugh, woman.
We love you.
Hey guys – no photos for me today. I’ve been too busy this week with appointments, errands, and a certain little boy to process photos in the office, and I’m still without my laptop. Hang in there with me – I should have it back soon and then I can attach it to my ankle again. John was home briefly last night, and I forgot to post this then. Sorry about that!
Please still link in with your posts if you have them! Hope you all had a great week and a peaceful weekend.
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
There were more, but they are currently trapped on my crippled laptop. It’s in a state of suspended animation… a coma, if you will. Surgery is scheduled for 2:15pm CST, Sunday. I’ll let you know if the patient recovers….
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
And when I say “blows” I am not thinking about bubbles or dandelions.
Or even that hot guy I saw standing in line at the grocery store the other day. Rawr.
I’m referring more to hairy ballsacks, possibly even diseased ones.
I have a good running list of reasons (39756385 items long, clearly) for this particular brand of Makes You Want To Vomit All Of Your Meals From Ever suckage, but today let’s talk about:
“When Shit Breaks And Doesn’t Get Fixed In A Timely Manner”
When shit breaks and you own your own house, the reason why it sucks is because you have to FIX THAT SHIT YOSELF. So that means, get off your lazy ass and determine the cause of the problemage and then do something about it.
When shit breaks and you rent, you’re often NOT ALLOWED to fix that shit yoself, nor are you allowed to hire someone else to fix that shit for yoself. Because, of course, when you signed the lease you did no less than admit that your judegment is not to be trusted, m’kay? And you signed an agreement that says “I am a dummee and cannot fiss thingies goodlike and also I can not has enough smart parts in my head to find any other good peoples to help me fiss thingies eether. ever.”
I swear that’s what the thing said, and normally I wouldn’t sign a document rife with such horrible spelling mistakes, for chrissakes, but if I remember correctly I had diarrhea that day so I was kind of in a hurry to get things wrapped up, because there is really nothing worse than sitting in a realtor’s office with a hot wet ass that ISN’T just a euphemism for how damn sexy you are.
But I digress.
So, basically, we’re not allowed to fix broken things. Instead we have to call and report them to property management, and they will send someone to the house to fix what’s broken.
Wait, no. I wrote that incorrectly.
They will THINK ABOUT HOW THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO send someone to the house to fix what’s broken FOR ABOUT A WEEK, but they will not do anything about it.
Then when your husband calls them and says, “Uh, did you get my two messages about how the kitchen light is broken and my wife has already set 4 fires in there trying to cook in the dark because she’s an idiot, and could you please just go fix it before she accidently builds an atom bomb trying to make Mac & Cheese in the dark? I know it sounds improbable, but really, you don’t know her. And it is not at all improbable. That kitchen light is SO MUCH MORE important than you realize” they will be like, “Huh?”
And then they’ll be like, “Oh, we need approval from the owner since it’s just lightbulbs.”
This is the part of the story where I tell you how I almost threw the phone across the room when John was relaying things to me. Because I was in the room the day that John called them and left a message, and I heard him saying, “Hi, our kitchen light is broken and we thought it might just be the bulbs, so I went out and bought new ones, but it still won’t turn on, so it’s not the bulbs. We need someone to come out and have a look at it and fix it.”
1) See that part where he said IT’S NOT THE BULBS? Yeah. I HEARD THAT.
2) John hasn’t been home since October 16th. I just want to go ahead and point that out.
3) As I type this, the light is STILL BROKEN.
After he set them straight in a much more polite way than I’d ever be capable of, they promised him someone would “be out tomorrow” to have a look at it.
“Be out tomorrow” in Property Managementese CLEARLY means “sit around with a thumb up one’s ass.” Either that or “laugh at your dark kitchening ass while we pretend like we care about you and your broken thingies, when if fact, we so very much do not. Buy a lamp, asshole.” I’m not sure, but it’s definitely ONE of those.
A WEEK LATER he called again to find out if they would prefer that we:
A) Burn down their building.
B) Set bull weavels loose in their office.
C) Poop in a box and send it to them instead of next month’s rent.
D) Get H1N1 first and then poop in a box and send it to them instead of next month’s rent.
They asked if there was an option E, and while I told John to say, “Yes, All of the above, you sons of bitches,” instead he just asked if they could please come fix the light in the kitchen.
He is such a pussy.
So finally, someone came the next day and looked at the light.
(Technically, they said someone would “be out tomorrow” again and so I got all pissed off because I AM LEARNING THEIR LANGUAGE. But they decided to mix things up to keep me on my toes. I am on to you, anyway, Property Management.)
On Friday, a nice man came to the house, stood on one of my chairs and looked at the kitchen light fixture.
He told me it was broken.
I almost had a hysterical breakdown at the delivery of this news because I had no idea the kitchen light was broken and I thought frantically, “Holy crap, how am I going to make dinner now, in the dark???”
But really, he said the ballast is fried and that he’d have to remove it and replace it. Then he took it off the fixture and he left, saying, “If I don’t see you again later today, I’ll see you Monday!”
It’s Wednesday. I have not seen the friendly Ballast Replacing Fairy yet.
I’mma gonna go into the kitchen later and whip up that atom bomb.
Hope you fuckers liked your lives. Some shit’s ‘splodin’ tonight.
UPDATE: So after I wrote this, but before I could publish it, the friendly Ballast Replacing Fairy actually showed up, except it was the same guy who came before and told me the ballast was broken, so I was a little bit disappointed. I was hoping for something with wings and a tutu or at least a glittery wand or a Pegasus waiting for him in backyard while he was inside working. Regardless, he had a new ballast with him and the knowledge necessary to install it.
Fortunately, while he was working, Braden made sure to point out loudly to me that “that’s not Daddy!” saving me from making the horrible mistake of pestering the poor guy to rub my feet. Of course, this is nothing new from Braden; he’s always screaming that information at random times, like when I’m on the couch making out with boyfriends, and also sometimes when my pimp comes to collect.
Duh, Braden, DUH.
Oh, but apparently the Ballast Replacing Fairy IS a fireman. Braden said so. Which clearly means he needs to be reported to the fire chief for his Fairy Side Gig. I’m 97% sure that there’s a “No Fairies” rule in the Fireman Job Requirements. It’s right next to the part that says you have to have really big muscles and the ability to grow masculine patterns of facial hair on command. I’m not sure whether it’s more or less important than looking sexy while you slide down a big metal pole in a hurry. Anyway, he’s breaking the rules.
PS: You’re a bunch of lucky bastards. There’s light in the kitchen now, so I probably won’t be blowing up the earth tonight.
So, I have a confession: I have been having a hard time keeping my shit together lately. See also: Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis (fatigue, joint pain, muscle weakness, hair loss, and more!), See also: Miscarriage Anniversary Looming, See also: Financial Distress, See also: Marital Issues, See also: I’m a headcase.
And it is true that I have had something like Writer’s Block for some time. I have long spaces of time when I believe I have nothing to say that you will be interested in reading. I sit down and think, “Surely I can come up with something!” And I open a text file and I stare at it, thinking. Nothing comes. Nothing is worth coming.
Then, other nights, I write things, posts, in text files and then I do not publish them. Because they suck. You would think they are stupid. (So I tell myself.) This would be more like Sharer’s Block? Blogging Anxiety? I Suckaphobia?
And then there are all the things that won’t come when I sit down to write them to you because there are other things that block them – things I can’t talk to you about. What I mean by that is I have issues I WANT to share with you, but it feels weird to talk about this thing when I know I haven’t told you about thoooose things.
Do I write about those things? Hell yes I do. Is the writing good? I think so. Will I share it with you?
Some things you just can’t post to the world because they aren’t only yours to post, does that make sense?
But the more of those things that I have, the harder it gets for me to come here and talk to you about everything else, like my friends. That’s kind of how I’ve always felt when writing these posts. I know it’s somewhat silly to think that way, and I’m not trying to be mushy and sentimental to win you over. It’s just the tone I always feel inside when I write to YOU.
This is not an academic essay I’m writing – though I can write those, I’ve completed tons of them in my time, and none too shabby, I’ll have you know. It’s not a performance piece, where I just need to elicit emotion with whatever works. It’s not fiction, where I can spin any tale just to delight. It isn’t a review, where all I really have to do is lay out the way it works and what I think of it.
It’s an ongoing conversation I’m having with you about my life.
When there are bumps that invariably happen from my life intersecting with the lives of others, sometimes I can’t talk about those bumps. Because it’s not my place to have the conversation that they might or might not want to have with you about THEIR lives.
So then, I guess I just have to say, Friends, there is(are) something(s) that is(are) affecting me in some way(s) that we can’t talk about. And now I have to find a path around that(them) so I can keep talking to you about my other life stuff.
And that’s hard for me to do. I’m emotional and the things I experience have a way of leaking and spilling out onto the rest of my life. I should learn to compartmentalize more. I don’t know.
And maybe this whole thing seems STUPID to you, because “DUH, LOTUS. We ALL have things we keep to ourselves. We ALL have stories we don’t tell everyone. Hell, most people don’t feel the need to tell everyone half the shit you think the world needs to know. I mean, really, you tell us practically every time you have your period. GET A FILTER.” And OKAY, FINE. But the thing is, I’m still developing as a writer and a blogger. This place defined itself to me from the start as My Blog: Where I Tell You What Runs Through My Head. My idea of “what this is” has changed. I can’t tell you what runs through my head when I’d have to tell you that Mr. C did horrible thing Y and I want to strangle his face until it turns blue and falls off. Because you know, Mr. C has privacy rights. I can’t tell you that I have a constant issue with Problem ABC and I think it’s because Mrs. W did batshit crazy thing X and it impacted me in a really profound way.
I can tell you about how I feel, but I can’t always tell you why. And that’s kind of douchey. But Mr. C and Mrs. W own their own stuff, and I can’t tell it for them.
My family and friends have privacy rights. Those assholes.
So let’s just say, that among other things, it’s taking me time, in fits and spurts to keep telling you my stories without telling you their stories.
Maybe one day there will be a time to talk about those things. Perhaps there never will. I’m trying to find a way to be okay with that and hoping I can just move past it.
I’m learning that it IS okay not to tell you everything (zomg) but I have to say it out loud for some reason. I think, if I say this out loud right now, it’s going to help me move this block.
For now, maybe just saying to you that I’ll tell you most of everything, but not some stuff, will help me climb over this boulder, that mountain, and occasionally kick those rocks out of my way, so we can keep walking this path together.
I mean, it would be such a shame to miss the colors this season with you. The foliage is so beautiful just up ahead.
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream