Cootersnap!

Gimme a vodka. Walk away. Leave me alone with the whisper.

The funkitude is kinda goin' around, eh? I'm sitting at home wishing my ''home" was someplace else. Love the apartment... don't like the 'basement'. For those of you who may not know: I live above a bar. A good bar. An adequate bar. A townie bar. A neighborhood bar. A bar in which I work ONE day a week (can't seem to quit and gettin' fired never sticks). Right now Patrick Hazell is playing; first time I heard him was at my sister's wedding reception some gazillion-aught years ago. He's fun. But I want him to shut up. Now.

I need to move. Harmonicas make my dog nervous.

***

Say g'night, Gracie.
"G'night, Gracie".

***

FIN

***

-30-

***

Um, yeah. That's it. THE END.

I snagged this from Restless Angel. Why? 'Cuz I'm lazy and it looked like a fun one. Bite me. Oh, and it is a truncated version 'cuz of time constraints on my part and/or I didn't like the damn question.

10 years ago, I... had just moved into my current apartment over the bar; was working full-time for the state archaeologist and part-time as a bartender; was on a sand volleyball team; was dating a guy who's now a prof at Notre Dame; and was in the best frikkin' shape of my life.

5 years ago, I... bought my first bra (believe it or not); started working for my current boss; wondered where I'd be in five years.

1 year ago, I... hmm... um... it was a Monday, much like any other Monday... guess I was doing pretty much what I'm doing now. Oh, the Viking and I had taken different turns and weren't exactly speaking. Kind of like now, only different.

Yesterday, I... worked the standard 8 hours; went clothes shopping; had a few beers with friends; went home and made pork chops and sauteed mushrooms and watched "Family Guy". Thrilling, n'est-ce pas?

Today, I... am working. Again. Can't get out of it, y'know. But when I get off (work, that is), I'm heading to Old Brick to pick up some material for Table to Table (a volunteer organization that collects food from various businesses and distributes it throughout the community) and I'ma gonna create a calendar for them. Should be fun. Then I s'pose I'll go directly home and play with it.

Tomorrow, I... am going to shower. After that, it's a free-for-all.

5 snacks I enjoy... chips 'n salsa, celery (frikkin' love the stuff...), frozen Ding Dongs, braunschweiger (a tiny bit on a cracker about once a year... then the poog gets the rest of it) and **PISTACHIOS**!!

5 songs I know all the words to... "Piss Up a Rope" (Ween); "Soulful Dress" (Sugar Pie DeSanto); "Talk of the Town" (the Pretenders); "In My Life" (the Beatles); and "Mr. Egyptian" (Jon Wayne)

5 things I would do with $100,000,000... 1. Give money; 2. Spend money; 3. Burn money; 4. Roll around in money; 5. Throw money around. During all of this, however, I would remain most gracious, level-headed and magnanimous.

5 locations I would love to run away to... Greece, Italy, Bora Bora, Ireland and the Galapagos Islands. No particular order...

5 bad habits I have... I can procrastinate for hours on end; I chew the inside of my mouth when I'm bored; I think evil thoughts; I pick at scabs (my own, that is); and if you're one of my male friends with a wacky eyebrow hair, I try to pluck it (ever notice how most guys have ONE weird-ass hair above their eyes?)

5 things I like doing... reading before bed; doing the Sunday New York Times crossword in the morning while drinking coffee and listening to some good, mellow jazz; playing with my dog... he's a goof; cooking for my friends; and anything creative as long as I have the attention span for it.

5 things I would never wear... foundation, a white belt, press-on nails, stiletto heels or my heart on my sleeve (that is, again).

5 biggest joys of the moment... Right here? Right now? Well, I'm at work (yes, I get a fifteen minute break)... um... 1) my orange La Croix tastes good, 2) there are birds in the tree right outside my window... they flit in and out and it's fun to watch them... except when they fly into the window, 3) the air conditioning, 4) the thought that I'm off work in about 2.5 hours, and 5) this moment. No, this one...

5 favorite toys... My laptop, my Pentax, my calphalon collection (does that count?), my new ionizing tower fan, and GUS. Hey, he's a toy dog, right?

5 people to tag... In the immortal words of Restless Angel: "How about take it if you want it, because I'm not going to tag anyone."

Whew! It appears my laptop was not infected with Magzipi virae. Whatever it was, it took me only three days of pushing various buttons, clicking stuff and banging my head against a wall. But behold!! The Cooter 'Puter is operational! (I, for one, could not be more thrilled... nor could I tell you what was done to make it so).

Yet, I still have absolutely nothing to tell y'all. It's been hotter 'n a Hades inhabitant in a metal suit. On top of it all, it hasn't rained (really rained) for close to two weeks. The weather people keep calling for it, and it keeps missing us. This translates into me thinking "It's going to rain; I don't need to go water my garden." Which in turn (after a night or day of the weather not cooperating with the words of Joe Winters or Denny Frary) translates into "WTF? Is anything alive out there?" So, while the storm clouds are overhead this fine morning, I'm going out to my garden tonight after work to either a) water it, or b) pull up all the dead little greenies and dust my hands of the whole affair.

To escape the heat last night, I went shopping after work. I hate shopping. But hey, I needed some clothes. And I've decided that Von Maur carries the most hideous shit in the world. I mean, who wears this stuff? Pink and green ruffled skirts with slashes of color that look like Coco the chimp painted the swatch for it? I can't even begin to describe some of the NAUTE couture that assailed my eyes. After about ten minutes of looking around, it was time to go. I ended up at a local place that's similar to Scheel's and found what I was looking for... and it was all on sale. Life is good.

Ok, this is weak. I better stop before I accidentally fug myself or something. Besides, I was going to tell you all about my armpit stubble (is it normal to have a persistant 5 o'clock shadow? why doesn't my triple blade razor work as they claim on television?) or these weird little spider bites on my ankles or how just damn swell my poog is, but... you are saved. Carry on.

Well a good and happy Thursday to you, my little Munchkins!! I am wishing for you all the best, meaning I sincerely hope you are not having a day like mine.

Not that it's the worst thing in the world that could happen... but it's frustrating to the nth degree and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. You see, I'm at work (aka the Appreciation Factory). My boss decided to have a company here in town MAKE me a new computer because he was worried that my trusty Dell was past its prime. Hmphf! I'll tell ya: this new computer is less than a day old and it AIN'T workin'!! My mouse is frozen, it doesn't recognize my printer, can't get online, yadda yadda yadda. I know: a computer is only as smart as the person behind, right? What I say to that is I'm damn glad not to be the person who pieced it together, 'cuz something tells me when Das Boss gets back this afternoon, there's going to be hell to pay.

But, there are ways to keep the sanity. You see, me leetle dearies, I had the foresight to bring in my laptop. Currently, it is the only working computer in this office... I must hide it from my boss, for I am certain he would find a way to corrupt my little baby. At least I can get online from my own little port in the storm...

Fortunately, it is 'bout time for lunch. I think a salad and a lorazepam sounds good. Don't you? Or perhaps a few martinis? Decisions, decisions... Oh, and here's a question: can I charge the computer 'guru' for the hours I've lost this morning due to his incompetent nature? Or should I just deduct it from the astronomical invoice we'll be getting for this giant hunk of shit he created?

Everyone has a certain blankness here. Washing away memories, however minute, unimportant, fleeting... Not a drop of salsa on the blouse or a hint of that really hot night's sweat on the sheets. No poog drool left on the blankie from that one night he dreamt of chasin' rabbits. No dirt on the heel of that sock; the hole is still there, though.

There's a serene grimness to this place. People don't smile if they're alone. Or if they're not. The laundromat is the loneliest place in the world to cleanse yourself.



And on that note, when I buy a house, there WILL be a washer and dryer somewhere on the property.

Happy thoughts. I need to make some changes in my life. Probably the biggest one is to teach myself to be more positive about things. It's too easy to get down about things and even easier to STAY that way. But something's gotta give; I'm extremely tired of living by the rules that are laid out before me. Rules (to be fair) that I continue to heed out of some ingrown lack of faith in my ability to break them. Hmpf!

We all have our ideal lives tucked away inside our hearts. Some people may even get to live theirs, while others think the image of it is as real as it gets. Well, why CAN'T everyone have what they want? Life, opportunities... it's all infinite. Isn't Life What We Make It?

My ideal life is pretty simple: I want my own home with a nice, spacious kitchen and a big back yard with room for Gus and a garden or two. And, eventually, I want someone with whom to share life, to explore it, travel. I don't need a lot of money, but enough to not have to worry about how to pay the mortgage and to have some left over for travel would be pretty sweet. Barring that, I'd take money trouble over love trouble any old day. (Which reminds me: Miz Meems, CHURCH is callin' you!!)

I think what it boils down to is the ability to see and appreciate what we already have, feel good about it and then, like an outgrown pair of shoes, change into a better fit. Don't know about the rest of you, but it's time I started growing again.

Question is: what are you doing to achieve the life YOU wish to lead?

Ok. It's been a busy week. But. BUT.

I came home tonight. My sofa was moved. My chair was moved. My coffee table was moved (with a marble top, it's a little heavy for me to move it alone). My blinds were pulled all the way up. And my dog was wiggin' OUT.

Here's the deal. My landlord called me at work this morning around 10. He asked if it was ok if 'the painters' came into my apartment to take out the storm windows so they could wash the panes (they were painting the outside trim). I said "Fine." I had misgivings.

A) I'm not a big fan of my landlord (thanks for the two hour heads-up that someone will be in my apartment).
B) I'm not a big fan of this asshole named Chris that does the painting around here. (Pat, however, is a really nice guy).

When I let Gus out of his kennel tonight, the little dude was more than hyper. Took me awhile to figure out why: 'someone' had given him a rather large handful of coffee beans. Gus has since been running circles, puking, and running some more.

I'm fucking pissed off. And the next time I see that motherfucker, I am showing him (in no uncertain terms) the back of my hand. At least twice.

Man... as if this week couldn't be any more strenuous.

Anyway, had to rant. I'm not dead. Just busy. And now, really REALLY pissed. (Anyone know a natural doggie downer?)

On the upside, my ex-boyfriend (from a gazillion years ago AND we're still friends) is in town, so I got to hang with him for awhile. AND "Something About Mary" is on tv... I hate the movie but Jonathan Richman is singin' and I sure do LOVES me some Jonathan Richman...

Time to go run Gus around the block a few more times.

and that ain't good.

Ok, so I'm not currently livin' a Nina Simone song of longing and unrequited love. I refer to the Dread Mung. Yes, it is true. I got it bad and the only thing that will make me feel better is miso soup. But since I'm sittin' at home with a day off work, let me give you MY version of "The Visit With Celti"....

While she was on the road heading east at a high rate of speed, I was sitting back watching cartoons, drinking coffee and ordering around all the house elves to clean this, that and the other. It was fantastic! My bathroom hasn't been this clean in years!

Gus the Poog was especially excited. After all, he just sensed there was to be a new person visiting his doghouse who would love him unconditionally and lavish all sorts of attention on him. He's kind of a slut that way, but I love him anyway. After all, I'm a slut about many things... pistachios being one.

The cell phone serenade heralded the arrival of our visitor, so I flew down the stairs, out the door and smack dab in the middle of a big ol' hug from the Celtic Mistress. We grabbed her bags and arrived at my apartment door to a ferocious barking. The poog can be very intimidating behind a closed door when you don't know how big (*small*) he is (I've had pizza delivery boys flee in horror at the idea of a monstrous canine, fangs bared, behind door number one... they're always embarrassed when I open the door and a little ol' poog trots out).

Celti, knowing what to expect, still wasn't prepared for a full-on body smash by the poog (14-18 pounds is the 'norm' for poogs... Gus is hovering around 26, and he's not fat. Really. He's just big-boned). He was all over her. Lickin' an' waggin' an' droolin'... being his normal charming self. But he eventually allowed her access to his kingdom, and after a quick detour to the lavatory, the two of us sat down to chat. Right away, Celti handed me a beautiful green aventurine/silver Celtic knot beaded necklace. I about swooned (and the photo she took of me that is on her site does not show the wondrousness of this gorgeous necklace. When I get over my Luddite tendencies, I shall post a pic... or two... of this past weekend!)

Before we headed to the cavern of George's, we had a wee cocktail with the poog (he kept trying to drink Celti's mead... yes, my dog is a lush). On to Geo's my friend, Jenny, was kindly working my one and only shift, and YES, Celti must've liked her margaritas. 'Recipes' differ from one bartender to the other, y'know, but Jenny's were evidently tasty enough to inspire Celti to drink three. I kept up with that, but 'did' beer instead.

Then we sauntered off to the New Pioneer Coop. We could have spent a lot more time and money there. It's fun to look at all the different cheeses and wines and whatnots, but I hit the motherlode, my friends: 7.5 pounds of free range chicken breasts and thighs for five dollars!!! Maurice (the butcher) scored big time on these and was able to pass the cost on to us. No lie, I about shit my pants. Top that with pistachios, and I was in seventh heaven. Meanwhile, Celti was literally oozing happiness about this stuff called 'lemon curd'. Hard to find you say? Well, come to the Coop. And yeah, Celti also got a stinky hippy patchouli plant... 'nuff said on that front. (...freakin' hippy...)

Back at George's, we ate our lunches from the Coop, drank more, got fuzzier, then decided to come back upstairs to my 'partment so's I could put my chickey in the freezer. For anyone who knows me, my freezer is like a dump in many ways. I buy something I'm not sure what to do with; throw it in the freezer. Got 7.5 lbs. of chicken; into the void with you! Celti actually had to rearrange the thing for me so the chicken would fit. Simply amazing. Perhaps today during my down time I'll clean out the darn thing...

Anyway, long story short, we ended up drinking sloppy virgins and the time got away from us. I had been thinking about taking her to a Mexican restaurant, but when we looked at the clock, it was already 9:30... a little late. So, as any good hostess would do, "Pizza time!" We each ended up ordering a calzone and chowing down. Yes, there was some drunken blogging time spent as well, but I don't especially remember much of that. What I do remember is pinballing off the walls when I went to bed around (I think) one a.m.

Sunday morning came too early... we ate breakfast at Lou Henri's, visited the Coop again and then came here to hang out for awhile. Unlike Celti, I was HUNGOVER. Damn those sloppy virgins, anyway... When the poor girl had to drive home (on a flat tire), I took the easy route: flopped out on my couch and took a nap.

So one word of advice: don't believe Celti when she says she's a lightweight when it comes to drinking! She was fine; I was injured. And I'm still recovering...

Now then, who's going to bring me some miso soup? **cough, cough**