Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Just cuz.
Only because I've been doin' a lot of math and such lately figuring out how in the hell I'm really going to afford MY NEW HOUSE, here's a cool little math doodle for you.
1. Grab a calculator (you won't be able to do this one in your head... well, unless you're the Rainman or something...)
2. Key in the first three digits of your phone number (NOT the area code)
3. Multiply by 80
4. Add 1
5. Multiply by 250
6. Add the last 4 digits of your phone number
7. Add the last 4 digits of your phone number again.
8. Subtract 250
9. Divide number by 2
10. Look familiar?
My financing became official today. I close on October 15. I am a homeowner. I am so happy, it's indescribable. I am so skeered, it's indescribable. My dog is so happy because he can lick his own balls, but in reality, he doesn't realize that he's going to have his own YARD, which will make him so indescribably happy.
Yup.
And tomorrow I am 40 years old. Yup.
Wow.
Who dat snappin' back? |
1. Grab a calculator (you won't be able to do this one in your head... well, unless you're the Rainman or something...)
2. Key in the first three digits of your phone number (NOT the area code)
3. Multiply by 80
4. Add 1
5. Multiply by 250
6. Add the last 4 digits of your phone number
7. Add the last 4 digits of your phone number again.
8. Subtract 250
9. Divide number by 2
10. Look familiar?
My financing became official today. I close on October 15. I am a homeowner. I am so happy, it's indescribable. I am so skeered, it's indescribable. My dog is so happy because he can lick his own balls, but in reality, he doesn't realize that he's going to have his own YARD, which will make him so indescribably happy.
Yup.
And tomorrow I am 40 years old. Yup.
Wow.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Hurry up and go crazy already
The following rant/rave/bitch/moan/whatever-you-want-to-call-it is just that: Whatever You Want To Call It. Life is actually pretty ok in Cooterville, so not to worry. It's simply astounding, however, how life's mundanities (yes, I realize that is not a word... even though you know exactly what I mean) can, and will, gang up on you in a strange concentration of absurdity. SO. Iffen ya read the following, do so with a grain of salt, at least half a brain cell (just so that you're one up on me), and with the understanding that the absurd and the mundane, while sometimes benign, can also have a very bitter edge.
Yeah... trust me. Ya don't wanna? Bite me, then. Pinch me. Something. Tell me this is real and that I'm seriously not going bonkers.
In lieu of any feedback telling me that I am, indeed, quite sane, I know I'm not. Which is to say: I must be. And if that makes any sense to anyone, then may baby Jesus help you for it sounds like you may be having one of 'those' weeks, too.
Contemplatin' the big picture. Seein' the small one. How do you get those two views to coexist? To make any kind of reason? When does 'wishing for' and the 'helping it happen' just make it BE? I don't mean for this post to come across as an endless jumble of rhetorical questions, but for crying out loud, people... when the fuck did life itself become such a Sisyphean effort? **pardon my sailor mouth, if you please**
If anyone out there can tell me WHY we work jobs that are not fulfilling, WHY we live our lives according to the rules and regulations set before us, WHY in the hell we don't do WHAT IT IS THAT WE REALLY WANT TO DO... well then, bend over so I can smack you on the ass and call you Charlie. Because if any of the answers have to do with money, expectations or fear, that is a rhetorical answer I don't want to hear. However, should any of you have a more insightful, more colorful answer to share, I'd sure like to hear it.
Yes. I am frustrated. Does that come across in a vague or dulcet tone?
I know I've made promises for a funny post. I really will write it one of these days. Just needed to get some of the coal outta my belly first. Thanks for reading.
Who dat snappin' back? |
Yeah... trust me. Ya don't wanna? Bite me, then. Pinch me. Something. Tell me this is real and that I'm seriously not going bonkers.
In lieu of any feedback telling me that I am, indeed, quite sane, I know I'm not. Which is to say: I must be. And if that makes any sense to anyone, then may baby Jesus help you for it sounds like you may be having one of 'those' weeks, too.
Contemplatin' the big picture. Seein' the small one. How do you get those two views to coexist? To make any kind of reason? When does 'wishing for' and the 'helping it happen' just make it BE? I don't mean for this post to come across as an endless jumble of rhetorical questions, but for crying out loud, people... when the fuck did life itself become such a Sisyphean effort? **pardon my sailor mouth, if you please**
If anyone out there can tell me WHY we work jobs that are not fulfilling, WHY we live our lives according to the rules and regulations set before us, WHY in the hell we don't do WHAT IT IS THAT WE REALLY WANT TO DO... well then, bend over so I can smack you on the ass and call you Charlie. Because if any of the answers have to do with money, expectations or fear, that is a rhetorical answer I don't want to hear. However, should any of you have a more insightful, more colorful answer to share, I'd sure like to hear it.
Yes. I am frustrated. Does that come across in a vague or dulcet tone?
I know I've made promises for a funny post. I really will write it one of these days. Just needed to get some of the coal outta my belly first. Thanks for reading.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Hmmm.
Been thinkin'. Been busy. Back soon. Really.
Who dat snappin' back? |
Been thinkin'. Been busy. Back soon. Really.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Choices
Yes, Mush, your meme is coming. I promise.
In the meantime, I was thinking about writing a little tale about this gal I used to know... we'll call her Calamity. Now, I have a few funny stories that involve this person, but I thought I'd give y'all a chance to choose which one you'd like to hear:
1. The night Calamity ate charcoal and Cooter ended up in Kalona (which is really a combination story that stemmed from the same night).
2. Calamity moves in to Cooter's apartment while Cooter is on vacation. It's a greasy little story.
or
3. A post of tiny excerpts from Calamity's very odd life.
It's up to you, people. Just don't gripe if it takes awhile. I'm up to my ass in alligators here at work, and next week I'll be headin' to the farm to help out my mom since my stepdad went gimp. Besides, be happy... two posts in ONE day. It's a milestone, I tells ya.
In the meantime, I hope you all have a lovely wheeeekend.
Who dat snappin' back? |
In the meantime, I was thinking about writing a little tale about this gal I used to know... we'll call her Calamity. Now, I have a few funny stories that involve this person, but I thought I'd give y'all a chance to choose which one you'd like to hear:
1. The night Calamity ate charcoal and Cooter ended up in Kalona (which is really a combination story that stemmed from the same night).
2. Calamity moves in to Cooter's apartment while Cooter is on vacation. It's a greasy little story.
or
3. A post of tiny excerpts from Calamity's very odd life.
It's up to you, people. Just don't gripe if it takes awhile. I'm up to my ass in alligators here at work, and next week I'll be headin' to the farm to help out my mom since my stepdad went gimp. Besides, be happy... two posts in ONE day. It's a milestone, I tells ya.
In the meantime, I hope you all have a lovely wheeeekend.
Bygones
She is his wife. He loves her. He does not love me. We did not make each other happy... toward the end, anyway.
He found the woman of his dreams... or the woman of his awakening. I was never in the running for that particular distinction. It was no one's fault. People fall in and out of love every day. Do we really think we're THAT special? That we're the only one a particular person could love?
For the past week or so, my mind has been occupied with the elusive concept of love. Or the various stages thereof. Remember how you felt when you first met someone and the sparks started flying? Those moths beating around that bonfire in your belly? Then later, the sheer and utter contentment of just lying in his arms, whispering shit you'd be too embarrassed to say out loud? Yeah, I remember that, too.
But I also distinctly recall all the late nights waiting up for him to come home. Dinner, that I'd spent time trying to make special, a dried out husk in the oven. Eyes puffy from crying out of indignation that another person would take me for granted. Heart swollen with rage. Throat hoarse from a combination of smoking too much and screaming.
When we broke up it was a 'good thing' (not to mimic Martha). Sad thing is, I didn't see that until much later. This man... well, he made me crazy happy in a way I hadn't been in years. And as we all know, whatever heights you can attain, the depths plumbed are equal in mileage. But it's in those depths you wallow that you can figure out your common denominator. It's climbing out that helps you realize your strengths. It's being level again that affords you the power to forgive.
That said (or spewed), I have nothing in my past to hold me back anymore. Didn't before either. I just didn't know that. "HE" is out there... whoever he is. I'm not in a rush to find him. It'll happen when it happens. And someday...
My eyes will be puffy... from a long night's sleep in his arms.
My heart will be swollen... with a wide range of wonderful emotion.
My throat will be hoarse... from saying 'I love you' over and over and over...
Who dat snappin' back? |
He found the woman of his dreams... or the woman of his awakening. I was never in the running for that particular distinction. It was no one's fault. People fall in and out of love every day. Do we really think we're THAT special? That we're the only one a particular person could love?
For the past week or so, my mind has been occupied with the elusive concept of love. Or the various stages thereof. Remember how you felt when you first met someone and the sparks started flying? Those moths beating around that bonfire in your belly? Then later, the sheer and utter contentment of just lying in his arms, whispering shit you'd be too embarrassed to say out loud? Yeah, I remember that, too.
But I also distinctly recall all the late nights waiting up for him to come home. Dinner, that I'd spent time trying to make special, a dried out husk in the oven. Eyes puffy from crying out of indignation that another person would take me for granted. Heart swollen with rage. Throat hoarse from a combination of smoking too much and screaming.
When we broke up it was a 'good thing' (not to mimic Martha). Sad thing is, I didn't see that until much later. This man... well, he made me crazy happy in a way I hadn't been in years. And as we all know, whatever heights you can attain, the depths plumbed are equal in mileage. But it's in those depths you wallow that you can figure out your common denominator. It's climbing out that helps you realize your strengths. It's being level again that affords you the power to forgive.
That said (or spewed), I have nothing in my past to hold me back anymore. Didn't before either. I just didn't know that. "HE" is out there... whoever he is. I'm not in a rush to find him. It'll happen when it happens. And someday...
My eyes will be puffy... from a long night's sleep in his arms.
My heart will be swollen... with a wide range of wonderful emotion.
My throat will be hoarse... from saying 'I love you' over and over and over...
Thursday, August 04, 2005
'Bout time...
Iowa is FINALLY going to get a dose of 'normal' weather for a week. Can I tell you how excited I am about that?
I'm all atwitter like a little girrrrl.
Who dat snappin' back? |
I'm all atwitter like a little girrrrl.
