honesty*rain

Went to my brother’s wedding social last night. For those not from here, a social is a fundraising event. In this case a fundraising event for a wedding. My brother’s wedding. He’s getting married! Awww! Socials are usually held 8 or so months before the actual wedding and people come who will not actually be invited to the actual wedding. In fact, people who do not even know the bride and groom come because socials are a big house party. But not at someone’s house and you have to pay to get in.

So! There are always prizes at socials. You buy little tickets and put them in the prizes you hope to win (this is not a complicated concept and yet I feel the need to explain it to you as though you were challenged in some mental way). There are a bunch of different prize packs (the ’summer is coming’ pack with bbq utensils, mosquitoe coils, deck lights etc, the ‘just for mom’ pack with bunch of stuff a mom would like etc). Some of these items are purchased by the bride and groom but many are donated. So there are like 20 of those prize packs and then a couple of grand prizes. My brother and his fiance had a 37 inch lcd tv and an xbox elite.

My uncle won the tv.

My sister in law won two prize packs (one with a food sealer that I so wanted).

My sister (who is recently divorced) won a bunch of tools. She was all I wanted something girly and we were all then why did you put a ticket in there dumbass?

I won a (wait for it) spa pack! I got soap. A whole lotta fruity soaps, Maggie. But that’s not all. Oh no, not all at all! Beyond the twenty variety of soaps I also got lotions and potions, two picture frames, 8 bath puffs (seriously, EIGHT), 3 free tanning sessions, a free cut and style at a high end salon and a (hello!) ONE HOUR MAFREAKINSSAGE! Could there be anything lovlier in the entire world???

Madison and I sat here this morning smelling the soaps the way girls like to do and I have to say all was right in the world. The boys are pretending to care but really? They don’t. Which is why I had a girl. I wanted someone to enjoy my fruity soaps with. Also, when I’m trying on clothes I can ask her which shoes I should wear.

Now later when you’re just sitting there and you smell something nice, well that’s just me - being lovely.

wish you were there.

or at the very least has someone doing it for her. which is remarkable to me. seriously? you’re running for president and you’re taking advantage of Twitter? does she have a facebook account too? is hilly on myspace? i think she just IMed me on yahoo. s’up mrs.c?

i get the why but still find it absurd. i know she’s trying to reach the young and the hip and the now among voters but there’s something pathetic about it.

wait, before i say that i better check and see if obama is twittering too….

damn, it’s an epidemic. honestly, if either one of them is trying to reach out on msn messenger i’ll crap a hanging chad. it’s a mockery of their status.

now i dare anyone to ask any of the candidates if they even know what Twitter is. i doubt very much if Hillary has ever set eyes on the site. i bet Hillary doesn’t even wipe her own bum anymore. she’s too busy crying and checking up on her lying, cheating, getting bj’s from women hot his wife husband.

oh! burn!

my twittering can be found here. i make no mention of my speaking engagements. you’re disappointed. i know.

I’ve never had a dedicated printer. That is to say, the printer in this household has never been attached to my computer because I have a laptop and what with the carrying around of the laptop it made little sense to constantly have a printer slung over my shoulder. Instead, the printer has always been attached to Dan’s desktop computer and when I need to use it he has to climb under his desk, unplug it from his USB port so that I could pop it into mine. This has been less than a spectacular system. In the beginning he was sort of patient about it but lately he’s downright snarly. Once he even poked me in the eye over it which I think is just rude. Printing should not lead to a fisticuffs.

About a month ago I decided I would get my own damned printer. Just a little thing. Not a 3 in 1 or a 5 in 7 or a 64 in 238. I was thinking a 39 dollar dealie from Walmart so I could print up the little things I need for the kids. Maybe an ocassional recipe. Or, you know, whatever. Just not photos. Cheapass printers don’t do so well with photos and that’s a fact.

Well I’m on the phone with my dad the other day and lo if he’s not getting all braggy about some printer he just bought. It’s, like, the best printer ever. It’s better than some stupid 39 dollar printer. It’s better than chocolate. It’s better than watching TV uninterrupted during a britcom marathon on PBS.

Come on, Dad. That good? Nothing’s better than britcoms.

Turns out it was a printer I’d seen in a magazine recently. The Kodak EasyShare 5300 All-in-One Printer Print, Copy, and Scan’s ad campaign caught my eye: everyone else’s ink cartidges cost a million dollars and ours don’t, so there*. Sounded good and as soon as my dad put me back on this printer I was off to the office supply superstore faster than you can say she’s makin’ copies.

I’m not going to bother with a play by play of what this thing does. It’s a 3 in 1 and it’s rock star. I had to have dan drill a hole in a cabinet in the kitchen so I could house the thing. It ain’t tiny, lemme tell ya, but it’s all worked out. We had a party the other night and ask me how much I loved taking pictures of drunk friends at 330am and printing them right from the memory card on to ready and waiting 4X6 high qulaity photo paper. While drunk. Both me and the people in the pictures. And do you know what? It went off without a hitch. If that ain’t a testiment to how easy this thing is to operate, I don’t know what is.

*paraphrasing

Oh I am in a GOOD mood. I am tickled the color of something absolutely gone TICKLED. Because if there is ONE thing I long for at this time of year it is a WINTER BLOODYWELL STORM WATCH with amounts of snow neighbouring in the area of IT’S SPRING FOR SHIT SAKE STOP WITH THE SNOW!

There is only one thing to do. I will make a quick stop at the Liquor Store today and stock up on things that will get us through. These things are of the ALCOHOL variety. Also, we will need CHIPS and DIPS.

Winter, you are an evil snot of a bitch and I have never hated anyone or anything more than I do you right now. It is unlikely that I will ever be friends with you again. You blew it, jerk.

but shockingly lacking. show me what’s interesting to you out there in the tangle of wire and WiFi. i fucking signed up for twitter because i figured, okay, this is interesting. ? not so much, really. same old, shorter sentences.

I’m not drunk but i might as well be. It takes a fair bit for me to be actually what you would call drunk. I’m not 19 anymore. There’s more than a glass of vomit inducing white wine involved.

That being said, I’m hardly sober and the delete button is in high use the eve. because of typos.

White wine makes me sick if i even drink a drop, by the way. i only drink red.

Here’s what happened:

Dan looked after my neighbour friend’s son while we went running because the boy’s father was away for the day/night. I run with the boy’s mother. We get back and I want to offer friend glass of wine but we have no wine. We are lame assholes. Friend gets wine from her own house.

And beer for Dan. We are out of beer. We are seriously lame assholes.

But I made cookies today. I have that going 4 me.

Blah blah blah (the details are finally boring) and two bottles of wine are drunk. pizza is ett and lo bu the children are weary.

the point is, I can post semi drunk and it does not matter because I am almost alone in this enterpise of blogging.

also, Jacob ripped the new family room curtains off the wall. we did not even give him wine. that’s the kind of GOOD FRIDAY i’m talkin about.

the hell, did i have a point?

dan has gone to bed and i no longer care. i want bed with dan. i wuv dan. dan, i wuv you.

(waves hi to people behind us becase Jacob ripped the fucking curtains off the fucking wall) (seriously) (OFF THE WALL)

SO SLEEPY AM I.

Some days drive over you and then back up. This one isn’t as bad as all that but it’s got the stink of something on it. Probably having a four year old shoving me off my pillow all night got it off to a rocky start. I can’t handle anyone fucking with my sleep anymore. I don’t know, I’m probably dehydrated too. When was the last time I had a glass of water? 1972?

I went to bed last night thinking today would be a breeze. One kid had the day off school (no 1.5 hours of preschool commute!) and the other would be away all day with his own thing going on. I had visions of tackling laundry and laying on the floor in a sunbeam next to the dog. He and I never lay around together anymore. We hardly ever talk. I can’t remember the last time he scratched my belly.

Well one thing after another, you know how it goes, and today was just like the others. Busy, running around, no one had any clean socks and the dog - well - he didn’t have to share his sunbeam, did he? He got to sprawl out all over the place and you know he wasn’t missing me. Living the life, he is. It’s me who’s got issues.

I think the cummulative effect of the draining days are what is really draining. Because okay, today was this thing, that thing, an hour at the hospital, no time to get the car cleaned, talk a friend off the ledge for two hours before bed, load the dishwasher and fold some dirty socks to pass for clean because nope, didn’t get to it. That was today and that’s okay. I liked today. Thing is, look at tomorrow. Not any slower. Faster even. Maybe I can cram it all in Sunday. Until voila, Sunday pulls the plug on clean socks too.

What is it that conspires to keep us in dirty socks forever?

I should have already gone to bed because my eyeballs are doing that thing they do when they’ve already gone to sleep. But I’m not going with. Where they won’t see anything properly in definance of my definace. We’re in a roundabout. Neither one of us wants to give in. Very mature.

I am never more inclined to sit down and get to work than when I am sick or tired. Fever of a hundred and seventeen? Excellent! Time to bang out that novel! Haven’t slept in days? Well, saddle up, we’ve got some words to get down on paper.

And they will be brilliant! These words penned in times of mental deficiency. Oh how they will impress.

I can’t think of anything I did today that I feel really good about. I mean, I feel good about my day and the person that I am in the general sense of it. I did not drive over anyone’s dog, I did not shout at the Contact Lens people despite their need for a good sound shouting at. But I never did find a minute to really accomplish anything. It’s more that the day got accomplished while I was in attendance. Which is the way most days go and maybe they’re supposed to. But I can’t help thinking I should have more of an impact on it. I should be more of a participant than the residue of a day gone well. Or not well, as the case may be. This day, this draining day, happened more in spite of me than because of. Or it feels like.

This is not me complaining. I am far more direct when I complain. I say things like ‘fuck’ in ALL CAPS forty four thousand times when I am complaining. There is no mistaking my dissatisfaction.

This is me prattling on to you the way I do to Dan every second of his life. I think he enjoys it. Or he is skilled at pretending to. Either way, I am content.

I’m not sure where this has got off to - which is apropos of the prattle - and will now come to an abrupt and unsatisfying end. Best to finish on the same note with which we began, I say. No sense leaving you will a sense of satisfaction this late in the game.

Adieu.

while out running with friends last night.

me: blah blah blah.

friend: i know! blah blah blah!

me: totally! blah hahaha!

friend: true!

me: hey! are we getting our period?

friend: should be, yeah.

me: ah, that explains it.

if we were not in synch and she did not keep track, i would be surprised by it every single month. thank goodness for her.

The neglected christmas list is neglected no more. I have been shopping. Yesterday I shopped for seventy four hours straight. I had to have the actual hours within a twenty four hour period extended in order to accomplish that but I did it because I am committed to getting this thing done.

By 9 o’clock last night I was seriously considering turning Buddhist. But then I realzed I’d probably have to do a lot of reading before they let me join and bah, I don’t have time for reading.

I always think it won’t be so bad but every year, you know what? It’s even worse. I’ve never been an early Christmas shopper. By sister in law Janet is and I always laugh at her. She’s so anal. She can’t just relax.

She is now sending me regular emails counting down the seconds until Christmas morning. Which is only making me think I have mroe seconds than I do because DUH, the stores aren’t open ALL of those seconds!

I have to admit I’m getting stressed. Dinner is here this year and the house is a disaster. Did I mention Madison is done school for the season? Which means I have no actual time to do anything but answer her when she says, MOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM forty five thousand times a minite. I do that and argue with Dan. Just because he’s there and it’s all I have time for.

I shouldn’t fret though because it’ll all get done. But maybe only because I fret. If I just sit back and go ach, whatever I have a funny feeling we’ll have a pretty sad Christmas morning and a right awful dinner that night. It’s the anxiety that makes it happen. It’s the anxiety that makes me feel alive.

I’ve only got one thousand and four presents left to buy, all the food, tons of baking to do and a house to de-bombify, but other than that, I’m on target. You?