FridaysWeb

Can a pacifist be an anarchist?

2008-09-11T00:46:00.005-04:00

First off, thanks bunches SignGirl! Not making a killing, yet...maybe one day. And yes, my design. It's a shame I don't have a steady hand or I'd be tattooing the hell outta some poor souls willing to part with tons of their hard-earned dollars.

Y'all, I missed my calling. I missed my generation, actually. I was supposed to be a hippy. But the combined kind of hippy, ya know? I would have marched for certain ideals - and definately BURNED MY BRA! - but I'd also have been one of those really cool hippies who smoked pot (which I have been free of for about 2 months, now...don't congratulate me; it was not MY wish) a lot and looked forward to vividly colorful psychedelic trips. I would have worn all natural clothes and probably gone hairy and smelly like so many others did. I would have definately worn flowers in my hair. The hair on my head and maybe even on my legs and pits. To cover the smelly part.

Since I can't actually be a hippy (not cuz of the times, but because of legal ramifications and a responsibility to teach my kids more than just my hatred for "the system"), I can look like one. And I can still preach my opinions and disagree with others who disagree with me (they're wrong, of course, but freedom of speech is one of those things I'd march for). The dressing part is kinda fun, actually. I'm currently working on a psychedelic t-shirt that I'll share pictures of when it's done. Ummm, it's pretty and all, but it's also a bit thought (and perhaps argument-)provoking. You'll see.

The disagreement part, though, is beginning to stir up a little turmoil with a dear friend, though. It's rather disheartening. You see, he thinks "a vote for anyone BUT McCain is a vote for a non-American Muslim" (exact quote from my friend). Personally, I am so discontented with the whole thing, I'm choosing NOT to vote, this year. I believe this will be only the second time I haven't voted during a presidential year since I was old enough to vote. The first time was because we had moved to Michigan and I was not considered a "citizen" of the state, long enough, to vote in that state. Well, it was also a Bush year...

Lately, my friend has taken to sending me daily mass-emails (sometimes several a day) defiling Obama and singing praises of McCain. While he has every right to his own choices, he's beginning to go beyond just stating his opinion; instead, it's beginning to feel like harrassment. When I've asked him about some of my own key concerns regarding McCain (like this ridiculous war that seems neverending), he skirts that question and retorts with remarks about Obama and even other non-partisan candidates. Ummm, yeah, there are others. When I ask how he feels about some of McCain's remarks about "the wealthy", my friend looks at me all doe-eyed and says that [we're all wealthy when we have family and friends who love us...doesn't that mean more than wealthy being defined by how much money one makes?] (paraphrasing, there) He makes a good point, there, but it still doesn't excuse McCain's views on who is "wealthy" and who is middle-class. My friend's latest diatribe began by defending Palin. There are MANY reasons why I dislike Palin, but I've never talked trash about her. Why he feels the need to constantly defend her, in front of me, when I haven't even brought her name into a conversation, speaks volumes to me. Me thinks he doth protest too much.

I know I need to just tell my friend that we're going to have to abstain from any political discussions, lest we destroy a long-time and very dear friendship. I sincerely hope he'll listen and understand that harrassing me about his personal views will only establish a divide that may not be easily mended. At this point, I actually think the only way to get away from all this craziness (politics, in general) is to just move to another country!

Idle Hands are the Devil's Playground

2008-09-05T11:09:00.007-04:00

right this minute:
*listening to Suspicious Minds cover by Dwight Yokum. Not a big country fan, but this particular cover is da bomb

"jobs", currently:
*making and selling jewelry at different venues
*helping out, occassionally at the tattoo shop
*helping out with some of the housekeeping duties at my old (1987-1997) workplace, as the guy who usually does it has been MIA for at least 2 weeks. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE cleaning? But it pays $10/hour...hard to turn down.
*start tax school Monday, 9/8
*trying to treat the newest spider bite that's got me feeling not-so-nifty. Damn venomous spiders! Wonder what this one was. I don't think I want to know, honestly.

Waiting to see what Hannah has in store for us. If I spelled it wrong, then you can see just how interested I am. Just in case, I think I will put some rocks in the bottom of the outside trash bins, move some of the lawn "decor" (that would be the old rusted mowers, yard tools, etc.) under the back porch, borrow a ladder and yank down the medium size limb that's been dangling, helplessly, for several months...maybe move the doghouse to the front yard so Blackie can hide out in her house instead of under the front porch. She's afraid of storms. Maybe I'll just let Hanna have her way with us, though. Philip's always fancied a threesome....HAH!

Tuesday, 9/2, was Big A's 17th birthday. I knoooooowwww!
Saturday, 9/21 is Little A's 15th birthday. She refuses to sign up for driver's ed. She has no desire to drive. WTF?!
Saturday, 9/28 is Philip's 41st birthday. Hopefully, 41 won't do his head in like 40 did.

Anyone heard the new Thriving Ivory tune? It's Angels On The Moon. Think Simply Red combined with Train. If you don't know those bands, then there's no way I could begin to describe this tune. Sad but somehow pleasant. Worth a free download if you can find it free. I don't see myself purchasing the CD, but it's still a nice break from Tool and the new AC/DC (which effin rocks, btw!). New Metallica due in October, too. WooHoo!

What's New Pussycat, whooooaaaa....

2008-08-04T14:41:00.006-04:00

So, this is what I've been up to, lately.

The cross one you see there...well...

it kicked me in the ass! About 7 hours, total to do this in 3 parts which included macrame, crochet, hand sewing and lots and lots of weaving! But, I sold that one and have another ready for an order I received.

All those range from $3 to $25. The cross one is the most expensive; the keychains and small tie-ons are the cheapest. Honestly, this is so much fun. Now, if I can just make a living off them. Okay, not quite a living...but contribute enough to NOT have to take the bookkeeping job that Philip's pushing on me. Have I ever mentioned how sick I am of secretarial work?

I've moved to another tattoo shop. The one I was frequenting before got a bit scarey. There were lots of rumors of drug-slinging going on quite regularly. I'm not sure if it's true or not, but I'm not willing to take that chance. I just don't want to be in that sort of environment. IF it's true. I'm sad to say, I think I believe the rumors.

The new shop I've begun to frequent is pretty cool. Still small and laid back, but comfy and friendly. The owner has allowed me to set up a small table to sell my jewelry. Ironically, he's bought the most. He loves the funky ones with handcuffs and stuff like that. He recently asked for something that I couldn't find, locally, so I ordered a couple of charms/medallions/whatever you'd call them, online. I started a few strands, suitable for both of them and let him choose. He chose the most expensive of the two charms without me even telling him which was which. Of course, he got the necklace for the cost of the charm + $2. I forgot to take a picture, unfortunately, but suffice it to say, it was kick-ass. Sterling crossed swords with skulls etched in the handles. I may have to order from that place again. Their prices are good and the charms are all sterling and guaranteed for 10 years.

So, that's what's up. I spend most days working on new pieces or hunting for cool beads, shells, charms and such. Now, I just have to start selling more. I spend Friday and Saturday afternoon and evenings there. I like it, I like the people, they seem to like me...and I get tattoos at a discount. Oh, yeah...I just got a new one (no photo yet). I got a large feather on the top of my foot. YES, it was painful as hell. After it was all done, I thought I'd stepped in a yellow-jacket's nest. A couple of days later, though, I was ready for more. Well, when I can afford another one ;)

LsOA

2008-07-08T10:34:00.003-04:00

And so I've been on a sort of mini-leave of absent. It would seem that many others are doing the same. Some have even threatened to leave for good. As such the blogger world goes. I miss you guys.

I'm working diligently to promote my current line of jewelry and a few other irons are in the fire. The girls are out of school for the summer and gas has exceeded $4.00/gallon. This means that the three of us are cooped up quite regularly, during the week. Of course, that means that we must each escape to our perspective bedrooms, on occassion, in order to keep a harmonious balance within the walls. Mama and Daddy have their beach house all dolled up, now; although my mother will never consider it truly completed. There will be many shopping ventures, flea market and yard sale hunts, classified scannings for bargains...all for junk that she probably will never need, but will always find too tempting to resist. As much as they keep pestering us to come stay a weekend, even with their insistence that we need no other money than for gasoline, we simply can't afford the $200+it would take to drive there and back and all the jaunts in between. As my mother cries money woes of her own, I do believe she "doth protest too much".

I'm on grandmother watch, this week. Sharing the duty equally with one of my aunties. Grandma is recently home from yet another week+ stay at the hospital. While each time, I look at her sunken eyes and pale complexion and believe it may be her last, she fights back in that stubborn way of hers. She tries to laugh and cut up with us; all the while, feeling miserable from all the aches and pains of old age and the almost unbearable discomfort of the end stages of congestive heart failure. My grandmother, however, is what us southern folks would call a catbird. Despite the many definitions available at any of the search engines, a catbird (at least in the south) is someone who is tenacious, determined, somewhat stubborn and very humorous in his or her actions when defending an opinion. Or something like that. "My uncle was quite the catbird in his older age, as he could convince you the sky was green and the trees were blue with a gleam in his eye and a snicker to follow." Each night, I dreadfully anticipate a call from Auntie or a kind healthcare worker, letting me know that it's time. Yet, each morning, I awake to find she is still alive and doing fine. And so, for her, I dedicate this little ditty to her own tenacity, determination and open-mindedness:

And the sign says "long hair freaky people need not apply"
So I put my hair under my hat and I went in to ask him why
He said you look like a fine outstanding young man I think you'll do
So I took off my hat I said "Imagine that Huh Me working for you"

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

And the sign says "Anybody caught trespassing will be shot on sight"
So I jumped the fence and I yelled at the house, Hey! What gives you the right
To put up a fence And keep me out Or to keep Mother Nature in
If God was here He'd tell it to your face Man You're some kind of sinner

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

Oh Say now mister Can't you read
You got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat
You can't watch No You can't eat You ain't supposed to be here

And the sign says "You got to have a membership card to get inside" Huh

And the sign says "Everybody welcome Come in Kneel down and pray"
But then they passed around a plate at the end of it all
And I didn't have a penny to pay
So I got me a pen and paper And I made up my own fucking sign
I said Thank you Lord for thinking about me I'm alive and doing fine

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign
(Signs, by Tesla; originally recorded by Five Man Electrical Band - lyrically incorrect but close enough)

Hot Child In The City

2008-06-18T16:10:00.000-04:00

Nope. Not this time.
Little A was invited to go to New York with her best friend and, apparantly, the coolest dad in the world. Yeah, M's dad spoils M to no end. It's beyond ridiculous. After Philip and I thought about it a bit, we were really stuck in that limbo of "it would be a great experience"/"she'll be gone 2 weeks without us or Big A for comfort if something goes wrong"...and more. Thank goodness Little A solved the dilemma. She's decided she doesn't want to be away from home for 2 whole weeks.

Big A is out tonight for her first real "test" of curfew. Philip will probably be really pissed at me for setting curfew at midnight, rather than 11pm. She's going to a cookout where most of her closest friends will be. There will be parental supervision - no drinking, drugs, sex, etc. - the whole evening. The mom is a bit miffed at Big A for a minor (okay, MAJOR) incident, last year, so the mom will probably be watching her like a hawk, anyway. This "test" is the first time where Big A is required to be home on time, no exceptions. Well, car accident (God forbid!) or car trouble (better frickin not be as it's MY car!) would be the only exceptions. I hope the evening goes without incident.

I would have pictures of the beach to show you, except all those pics were taken with Little A's camera and guess where her camera is? With her, of course. She'll be home from her friend's (this is a pre-New York visit) sometime tomorrow. I better get a frickin camera for my birthday or Christmas, this year! I'm losing it, I tell ya. You know I love[d my camera] more than my luggage! (guess that reference and I'll put a special link for you in my next post) For now, I'll tease you with some (stolen) shots of some of the shopping spots we hit...for the whole 2 hours we got to shop:

Remember Rose's? Morehead City still has one! I ended up there trying to find a t-shirt to replace the one that got ruined on our trip over (whole new story in its own...I won't bore you with that one) because I was too cheap to pay $20 for another Atlantic Beach, NC t-shirt. I think I have a dozen between myself and Philip's stash of t's.

Yeah, we had to go to Wally World for a few necessities we forgot to pack - like shampoo. Why doesn't my mother have shampoo in the second bathroom, yet?!

Speaking of...their place is up and running. The porches & decks are on and it really is pretty. She's still puttering around, decorating this that and the other. Knowing Mama, she'll never get it "just so". That's cool, though. I'll have to remember to tell you guys about the conversation we had with my dad about inviting company...it's a doozy. I'll have to do that one day when I'm not still pissed at his inuendos.

I'm off to find a display case, as I've got about 20 - 25 pieces I'm ready to showcase!

There's Something in the Air

2008-06-13T01:48:00.003-04:00

Last Thursday, I went back to Body Ink to have Troy work on my tattoo, some more. He got the clouds and tree roots, dotted the larger Birdie's eye, but never colored in the moon. That whole night was a pain in the ass - Troy was rapidly becoming stoned on the morphine the dentist gave him after doctoring a dry socket - but it ended up being worthwhile...at least the next day.

I've been making more jewelry. LOTS more jewelry.

And it seems to appeal to the crowd over there. You know, hemp & hippy stuff, with the occassional "bling" added in for good measure. The men tend to like the fancy crosses and the ladies tend to like the pretty hematite beads interwoven. Oddly enough, more women looked at the dragon charmed chokers than men (not pictured... remember, my camera is broken so I have borrow from the girls when "allowed"), and more men liked the anklets with seashells - they wear them as bracelets.

My point...I rambled...the owner of Body Ink liked my jewelry so much, he allowed me to set up a little table outside the shop, Saturday night. They were very slow, which meant I was slow, but there was a lot of interest. Especially the shop owner. He has offered to put some of my jewelry in his Haw River shop AND his Mebane shop! Ummm, if I get a display case. I'm looking for something appropriate: not too small, not too large, cheap as dirt. This is very exciting for me. Imagine making money doing something you enjoy so much! Okay, I know some of you do that, already. This is just something that finally is right up my alley. As soon as I get a few dozen more pieces done and find an appropriate display case.

We're heading to the beach in about 7 hours to help Mama and Daddy get the rest of their stuff moved into their new place. I'm told the porches and decks are up. Unfortunately, Philip, Big A and I will only stay Friday night and come back Saturday evening. Philip's dad has invited his sons to breakfast for a big Father's Day thing. It's become a tradition and I think it's pretty cool. Philip was going to beg off so we could stay an extra day at the beach, but he decided he'd like to have breakfast with his Pop. I'm glad he is going. While I'll be disappointed that I won't get to spend any real time at the beach (we'll be moving furniture and such all day Friday and maybe some on Saturday), I'd walk water for Philip to get to be with his Dad on Sunday. That's sort of my Father's day gift to Philip...not bitching about a quicky-trip so he can spend what may be the last Father's day with his dad. Pop's aneurysm has suddenly gone from 4mm to 6mm. At this stage, it's inoperable, so we're back to watching the clock with my father-in-law.

Big A is dating Jacob, again. He was the one we liked. I'm thrilled. Seriously. Jacob has goals and ambition. He's started on his way towards a life-plan and has sworn to not let anything get in his way.

Today, he called when he knew Big A wasn't home. Yeah, I know it's weird how all the girls' friends are with me, but it works out well. Jacob asked me to be completely honest with him about something. "Have I ever been anything less than honest with you?" He laughed and said that I had not. He then asked how I would feel about the two of them dating again. So, I answered honestly. I told him that it would tickle me to pieces, but I wanted him to be prepared. "Prepared for what?" Well, prepared for the possibility of her breaking his heart again, that's what. She's 16 and is about to go into her senior year of high school. This age and the senior strut can reek havoc on a young girl's social life. He was just so damn adorable when I told him this. His response? "You mean you care that much about me that you would warn me about your own daughter?" Of course I do, but what I said was more a warning to him of what may come - just because - than an "I care this much about you" type thing. I can't really explain that part, but yes, I care, all the same. He began to promise me that he would never break her heart, yada yada yada, but I told him those were promises that he shouldn't make. There are no guarantees at this age and boys will be boys and girls will be girls. I also reminded him that he needn't make promises like that to me, as their relationship had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them. But, deep down, I'm very happy that they are back together. Whatever happens between the two of them, Jacob is truly like family to us and we all enjoy having him around. There's aldo this little thing about his mom being a phsych bitch from hell and I think Jacob needs to experience a more stable family - dysfunctional as hell, maybe, but stable and loving - every chance he gets. If that sounds vain, so be it. I only speak what I truly feel.

This turned out a lot longer than intended. I also had every intention of going in and editing my grammar and spelling, adding appropriate italics and boldface where necessary, summarizing a bit better and so on. Alas, my sleepy eyes won't allow this, so this post stays as is. Besides, I have to get my sorry ass out of bed at something like 7am...less than 5 hours.

Friends, Family, Fun

2008-05-30T01:54:00.011-04:00

So much going on in everyone’s lives.

I notice that Lady K is taking an extended LOA, possibly. C’mon! What am I gonna do without your blog? I know, maybe if I post some of my own sky pictures,

you’ll follow suit. Ehem…I love you, Toots. I really do! Oh, and it doesn’t cost me much to call you…so expect a call sometime in the next several days ;)

To Yorkshire Pudding: my condolences to Shirley and all the family. I won’t dare do the old, “it may have been for the best…” routine, as a loss of one’s parent is a tragic loss, no matter the circumstances. My thoughts are with you all.

I see that Corky had a nasty accident in WV. I’m glad you are all okay. I have to say to you, while West Virginia may border on Podunk and we often see why the toothbrush was invented there, you will honestly never meet a nicer brood of people. Philip and I broke down in some tiny town just outside of Ripley, WV, when we were moving back from Michigan. We literally found the town mechanic at a little Main Street diner – just where the ladies at the hospitality center told us he would be – and he bought our lunch AND met us at his garage, on a Sunday, and helped us get settled into a little motel (where he sweet-talked the owner into letting us bring our dog in) until he could get the necessary parts the following day to get us on our way. You were lucky you weren’t in Tennessee, Ohio – or even worse, Michigan! Sorry to all my Northern pals in those areas, but I think you know where I’m coming from.

Rat, still enjoying your lovely photos. I could SO go lesbian for some of those boobie-shots! At the very least, a threesome wouldn’t be out of the picture. Oh shit! Did I say that out loud?

Jenn, I am SOOOO proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. While I don’t reply to many folks much, anymore, I still read most blogs as much as I can. You are truly my hero and my inspiration to keep on working towards my own personal goals.

Bradley, Darling, I’m dropping a new brush in the mail for you, soon. My vet recommends this type of wire brush for our extra-furry friends, as it tends to minimize the knots and is supposedly not as painful as some of the other available fuzzbuster schemes on the market, today.

Brian and Diane, I think of you two, often. I hope you are both well. I loved Real Magic so much, I’m reading it for a second time, now! I also use my special bookmark in every book I read. I’ve even quit folding the pages in my paperbacks, just so I have an excuse to use the bookmark!

My sweet Saint of a pal, Alkelda, you have no idea how many times I’ve been tempted to email you for thoughts on an idea I have for a children’s book of my own. I wrote it more than 12 years ago and keep stalling, trying to decide what to do with it. Alas, it sits in a dirty 3-ring binder, gathering dust and needing a MAJOR edit. One of these days…. At the very least, one of these days, I may just email it to you and if you like it at all, you can share it during story-time with all the cuties you often read to. Heck, if I try hard enough, I might even come up with some cute finger-puppets to go along. Every single time I see an adorable little brunette child, carefully pondering a flower or garden gnome, I think of your precious little Lucia. I’d also give my eye teeth to get you over my way to help me transplant some not-yet-dead plants from my original garden over to the mini-garden of shrubs and plants that I brought from my grandmother’s garden. Be it from Heaven or some other special realm, she seems to be blessing these transplants and making them grow beyond my wildest dreams. One day, I’ll take some real photos of “her” handywork to share. I wholeheartedly believe that, between her hands and the lucious (but smelly) quail and garbage compost we planted with, these plants are a gift that I could never reproduce without some sort of divine intervention. Or something like that ;)

I notice that Pissy is getting burnt out on the exercise. Oh yeah, I can relate! Except now, I’m trying to convince Philip to “lease-to-own” (or at least borrow) a pal’s coatrack…I mean, treadmill he never uses AND to put a tv in the living room. He’s been considering purchasing an HDTV (it’s about freakin’ time!) for the den, so moving the behemoth of a 36” analog (that will, most likely, be sent to the black-screen-of-death-junkyard, sometime soon) into the living room isn’t a bad trade-off, anyway. It’s time! Besides, his blood pressure and cholesterol aren’t getting better and my waist, hips and thighs aren’t getting any smaller, so a treadmill with a pleasant distraction sounds just nifty to me.

We never use the formal room; and to be honest, it does nothing but collect dust and junk; so who cares if it’s got 2 computer desks (yeah, I’ll move this one in there, too) and a treadmill? Hell, maybe one day I’ll convince Philip that a tanning bed

is a necessity, not just a want. What better place for a tanning bed and treadmill than the first room you walk into in the house? I could always have people enter through the laundry room where the trash accumulates, waiting for someone to carry it to the outdoor bins…and where the litter box goes unnoticed until one of us finally gags or until the dryer door gets left open and the clothes that sit there waiting for a loving fold begin to smell like cat shit. I’m currently building a fort out of old Scoop Away tubs (the big ones with the handles and all that snazz) and some random , broken laundry hamper that just appeared out of nowhere one day.

Mama and Daddy’s new beach house is up Mostly. I have pictures of the unfinished, below. By the time we go help them move all their old stuff into the new trailer next weekend, there will be a brick foundation; a front porch, partially covered/partially sundeck; a back deck; back screened in porch; outdoor shower; brand new patio furniture. My mom is funny. She’s sweating bullets that people will think less of her because her beach house (in a marina community with $400K houses scattered throughout and ¼ acre lots that sell for more than my house!) is a ***gasp!*** singlewide trailer. Hmmm, let’s see…. It’s 16X76, 3br/2ba and will have all those amenities I mentioned above. It’s a SECOND home for them. It’s PAID FOR. They have FREE MARINA ACCESS. Their neighbors on one side are retired and cool as hell – they call my folks anytime something the LEAST bit suspicious happens and they even mow for my dad when he can’t get there for some reason for more than 10 days. The neighbors on the other side are dillweeds, but they are currently keeping to themselves, since they reported some other neighbors to the county for encroaching on their land…as it turns out, the dillweeds are actually almost 35 feet over onto the OTHER neighbors property. We’re anxiously awaiting the verdict on fines and such. I can’t help but snicker. Ummm, back to the other, though…wtf does my mom CARE what anyone else thinks about her po’ ol’ singlewide (imagine that in a lovely white-trash lilt)? .
Hell, if I could live there, I wouldn’t think twice about living in a fucking trailer! Oh yeah…my dad is good, now! He’s learning new habits and promises to take it a little easier on some stuff, but will begin walking at least 1 mile a day again, as soon as he gets over the stent surgery in his heart and the flu he caught in the hospital. (did I ever mention that Daddy is only 59?!)

We took those pictures when Big A and I went to the beach for a day, last weekend. Or was it the weekend before? Whatever it was, it was hell. She decided she didn’t want to go to prom, this year, due to the person she wanted to go with, and the resentment that some of her ex-friends held towards her because of her break-up with him a little over a year ago. Yep, that one. The ONE boyfriend we all adored. He’s back in the picture but just as a friend, so they say. He seems to enjoy hanging out over here a bunch, lately, but I think it’s mostly because his mom is a psycho bitch from hell and we always cook a hot, homemade meal every night. Anyway… we went to the beach just so she could go eat at her favorite place in the whole world: El’s Drive In. Pictured below. Yes, I drove over 400 miles in ONE DAY, just for her. She better effin love me for that! I didn’t even get to go out on the beach but for 15 minutes, then she wanted to go shopping at the mini-slew of pretend-surf-shop-wannabees that are really just tourist traps for cheap and tacky trinkets. Not that I ever buy anything there. Nooooo…me? Tacky trinkets? Pshaw! El’s was fun, though. We got to feed the stray kittens and all the hundreds of seagulls who hang out there on a regular basis. Seriously, one of the biggest attractions of El’s – besides their SuperBurger, which is TO DIE FOR – is feeding your leftovers to the seagulls. If one isn’t careful, they’ll even fly in your window if you taunt them enough.

The most exciting part of the whole trip (that lasted from 8am Saturday morning until well past midnight that night), however, had nothing to do with the food, the sand, the sun or the shopping. We were rear-ended by a couple of young pussies who chose to do the old hit & run rather than be men about it and pull over when I motioned for them to. Big A saw where they turned into a side street and we went and found their car. It was pretty easy to find, as they were driving a mid-80’s model, ragged out Jeep and they pulled into a well-established and sorta-ritzy pier/marina/upscale restaurant and inn parking area. Their white POS Jeep stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Lexus’, BMWs and Mercedes’. When they saw us stop at their car to get the license plate number, they ran like the little pansy-boys they were. Despite the fact that we had NO damage to my big boat of a Buick (yeah, still driving that, for now), except a little scratch on the bumper, it pissed me off to no end so we found the police department and reported them. I assured the cop that I had no desire to drive 4 hours (one way) back to Emerald Isle, just for some judge to give them a slap on the wrist, but it’d be swell if he could send out one of his biggest, burliest, scariest officers, just to put the fear of God into them. The cop laughed and said he thought that was a fine idea. I would SO love to have been a fly on the wall…errr….window…when that happened! No one was hurt, though and it was pretty funny. The cop we reported to even got a good chuckle when I told him that it was best I didn’t go after the pussies – umm, yeah, young men - as I was rather pissed and didn’t really want to spend an evening in the hospitality of the Carteret County jailhouse. Big A – her and her tiny stature – wanted terribly for us to catch the twerps and “beat the fuck out of them”, as she so animatedly put it. She would have, too. She is fearless. How do I convince her that the line between fearless and idiotic can be incredibly fine, at times?

The Camaro is running like a kitten. It looks SWEEEEEEEEETTTTTT. Well, the driver’s side does. And looking at it from the front at an angle. It still needs a passenger’s rear quarterpanel or, at the very least, a few taps with a ball peen hammer from the underside and a tad bit of touch-up paint. Or a few dabs of OPI Red, Red Rhine. Now we just have to pay the $195 to register and tag it…and scrape together the extra $300/6months insurance. Highway robbery, I tell you! Oh, to top the bendover in the insurance premium, they almost didn’t want to insure us, anyway, because Big A is an inexperienced driver and they won’t insure a “high-powered” vehicle in a household with “IE drivers”. When I explained that it was just a measly 6cylinder, they changed their tune. Yeah, to the tune of another $600/year.
Sheesh!

Due to my dear friend, Caro, I have learned a new type of jewelry-making. While visiting from London, she wore this lovely hemp necklace that I just HAD TO learn to replicate. As it turns out, the “beads” I need to make that type are hard to find and a bit expensive, so I found some alternatives. I’m teaching myself to macramé and a few other techniques to create really cool hemp jewelry. No, not the everyday variety you’ll see at trinket shops and trade shows; but very intricate and one-of-a-kind types that I hope will go over well with some of the “alternative” crowd I’ve come to love VIA the tattoo parlor and a few other places. It’s unique and nothing like anything one will find around this area. I’ll try my hand at actually selling some of this jewelry, soon. I just have to get past a couple of fishing ventures (on a boat! I’m totally stoked about this!) and the trip to help my folks “move” into their new beach house.

Hopefully, I’ll get the current part of my tattoo finished, around that time, as well. I already have the next phase sketched out. I’ll just have to hope to make enough selling jewelry to help pay some bills AND pay the $200+ for the third installment in what will soon be a total, below-the-knee “sleeve”. Yep, I plan to completely cover my lower right leg. Hell, how much can I regret ONE leg, later in life? It’s not like I’m trying out for Mrs. USA or anything! Not to mention, when it’s my own artwork, why not make it a true part of me? Perhaps, in the near future, I can convince my tattooist that he truly IS talented enough to open his own shop. If he’ll do that, I’d be more than happy to manage the day-to-day operations and maybe, just maybe, put some of my own artwork up for display/sale. My tattooist is a true art-God. You have no idea just how amazing he is, unless you’ve seen him work, freehand, in person.

If you’ve made it this far (and I hope you have), peace to all! I’m floating around here, in cyberspace, thinking of all of you – even those of you whom I’ve not mentioned (I swear!). Stay safe and happy. Most importantly, never forget to be yourself! You only have one life to live (nope – don’t watch soaps, so that’s not where I’m heading)….live it to the fullest and make sure to do everything you want in life; despite what others may think! Be yourself and be TRUE to YOU! I promise, you’ll have no regrets in the end.

Lately

2008-05-18T11:53:00.002-04:00

Thank you, my favorite story-teller, for the lovely card! I just received it, today, for many reasons.

Lately, things have been a bit whacky.

*Thursday-week, we had a terrible storm and lightning struck one of our phone boxes. For some reason, we have 2, since we have 2 phone lines (why they didn't put them both on one box makes no sense, whatsoever). Because of that, internet has been off. Why didn't we hook the other phone line up to the computer? That one's next.

*Last Monday, my dad was rushed to the emergency room with severe chest pains. The docs say it wasn't a heart attack, but we all know it was. I won't go into reasons why. They did find a 75% blockage on one of the main arteries that lies on top of the heart. They scheduled him for immediate surgery to place a stint, but due to governmental red tape - he goes to the V.A. for all his medical stuff - he still hasn't had the surgery. He was scheduled for last Tuesday, then got moved from our local hospital to the V.A. hospital. He was then scheduled for surgery this past Friday. Apparantly, they had 2 emergencies come in that were more critical than him, so he got bumped to Monday (tomorrow). Hopefully they'll get him in first thing - as long as there are no more criticals in front of him. He's feeling fine, but is stir-crazy.

*Big A decided to NOT go to prom because of some boyfriend/male friend issues that's a whole other story for a whole other day. Instead, she asked me to take her to the beach. She doesn't like the beach, but there's this little hole-in-the-wall-drive-in-greasy-spoon that we all love and she wanted to go there. So...we went for the day. It was still cheaper than prom. Barely.

While we were there, we were involved in a hit&run accident. It wasn't a big deal, as we weren't hurt and there was NO damage to my boat...I mean car. It still pissed me off to no end, so we found the guys who hit us. I was too pissed to be able to handle the situation without going to jail, myself, so we just got their license plate number (like the little pussies they were, they tried to hide their car and when we found them, they ran and hid in a crowded restaurant) and went to the police station. I told the cop that I didn't want to press charges because I didn't feel like driving 4 hours to meet with a judge, but I'd love it if an officer would find them and put the fear of God in them. The cop chuckled at my comment of being too angry, then at the request to scare the young men a bit. He liked that idea and dispatched an officer to where the pussies - I mean, young men - were hiding out. He got my information and promised to call me with the results. I can't wait to hear what happened. Other than that, we had a good time, but I ended up driving almost constantly from 8am, yesterday, to 12:30am, this morning. Needless to say, I'm exhausted and my stress-o-meter is in hyperdrive.

*Philip and Little A went boating and fishing with some friends of ours, yesterday. I believe they had a MUCH better time than I did. But, ya know, I can go with them anytime. Seeing Big A happy and getting to do something that silly (driving to the beach and back JUST to go eat) made the day worthwhile. Little A caught the biggest fish. Our friends' son, Matthew, caught the most fish. Little A tells me that Philip kept casting his line straight into trees. Why is that so blasted hilarious? Well, because Philip is really good at just about everything he does. He's somewhat of a perfectionist. He's also, usually, a very good fisherman. Yesterday, however, was an exception. He got ragged on all day because of the tree incidents and everyone had a lot of fun at his expense. I would have LOVED to have seen that! He still fared well, I'm told, catching almost as many fish as Matthew. They were crappie fishing (for those of you not-in-the-know, that's a type of small freshwater fish) and did the catch/release thing, since the fish are generally too small to fillet. None of us eat fish with bones intact, so it was no sense keeping any of them. I was very surprised that Little A actually got "dirty" and didn't "just die" from it. She really had a great time, though and can't wait to go back again. The fact that Philip bought her her very own fishing pole, lures and tackle box had nothing to do with it, I'm sure....hahahahaha!

So, that's what's up, lately. I doubt I'll be around much until after my dad gets straightened out. Hope you are all well.

xoxo to everyone, and to everyone a good night (since I'm going for a nap)

The latest work in progress

2008-05-05T15:04:00.004-04:00

Yep, workin' on the tat again. Check out my pal's MySpace and look for this photo, then this one. There are a total of 4 pics of my latest tattoo on T_Zog's site.

It's still in progress. There's a lot left to do to this one particular piece. Troy spent about an hour taking my drawing and turning it into a line sketch that pleased us both. Yep, he used my drawing again! Of course, he added all the major detail. After that hour, we spent about an hour & a half with ink to skin, then took a lunch break. We went back to work for a bit, then took a quick smoke break. He finished what we were both able to stand (I was IN PAIN! and his back was aching) after the smoke break. We'll most likely finish this one Saturday night. I believe Troy worked on me for a total of 3 1/2 hours, not including breaks. I'm stoked to see the rest of it finished. I already have the next step rough-sketched out, but will have to wait a while, after this particular piece is finished, as I'm out of money ;)

I'll keep you posted.

Oooh! I just saw it! My beautiful (*cough* just nod and smile) leg is featured on his front page right now.

The Magic Shrinking Cat

2008-04-11T11:52:00.003-04:00

Blue Kitty is so much happier, now. She's more playful and loving. Of course, that's after she spent about a week being pissed off at us.

Before the $258 vet bill

After the $258 vet bill

Does anyone know the pounds equivalent to 4 kilograms? I think that's what the vet's report said Blue Kitty weighs. We now know that she's only about 1/2 the size of the other 2 cats. Oh, and Styx weighs in at a whopping 13 pounds, now!

What has pissed me off today. So far.

2008-03-26T11:49:00.004-04:00

The vet.
I finally got Blue Kitty an appointment with a GOOD vetrinarian to get all her shots, groomed, whatever else they do for $250. Yeah, you saw that right.
They called me a few minutes ago:

[vet's assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, this is [I forgot her name] at Central Carolina. Blue is fine, don't worry, but we do have an unfortunate situation."
(I catch my breath and try not to look too panicky in front of Big A)
[me]"Ummmm, oookkaaayyyy. What's up?"
[assistant]"Well, Dr. [Vet]'s husband had to be rushed to the emergency room, so she had to leave."
[me]"Oh my! I certainly hope he'll be okay."
[assistant]"They're sure he'll be fine, but Dr. [Vet] isn't available to monitor the administration of the anesthesia. By law, our groomer can't sedate Blue without a doctor present. We're afraid Blue Kitty may have to stay overnight. Of course, there will be no charge for boarding, seeing as how this was an unforseeable occurance."
[me]"Ummm, okay, I understand. When is Dr. [Vet] going to be available, or will another vetrinarian be on stand-by?"
[assistant]"Well, there lies our problem. We don't actually have another vetrinarian who can fill in. Dr. [Vet] assures us that she will be back as soon as possible. Because we're a 24 hour clinic, Blue will be able to have all the other work done as soon as she comes back in."
[me]"Okay, that's fine. What about [the incredibly flamingly gay groomer who is just cute as a button with a terrific fashion sense, even when in "scrubby" grooming clothes]? How long will he be there? Will he be able to groom her if the doctor comes back in this evening?"
[assistant]"Well, no. And he only grooms on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He did, however, say he might be able to come in for a couple of hours in the morning to finish the patients he won't be able to get to, today."
[me]"Uh, yeah. I see. So, how long before I get my cat back? [beginning to sound frustrated]"
[assistant]"Oh, don't worry! We'll keep her overnight, at no extra charge. You can get her in the morning, and if [Incredibly flamboyant and cute groomer] can't groom her tonight or tomorrow morning, he can groom her NEXT Wednesday."
[me]"I have to work next Wednesday. This is prime tax season, so there's no way I can get another day off until April 16th. This is going to be a problem.[beginning to lose my temper]"
[assistant]"We're so sorry for the inconvenience, but we're willing to do everything possible to resolve this issue. Could your husband, perhaps, bring Blue back, next week?"
[me]"Noooo. He's a supervisor and could barely get off if it was one of the KIDS needing a repeat appointment. Do I need to call another vetrinary clinic?"
[assistant]"OH NO! We will do everything possible to make sure you get Blue Kitty back as soon as possible. Please don't worry about any boarding fees. We'll only have to charge boarding fees if she has to stay past 3:00pm, tomorrow." (and didn't she just say there wouldn't be any boarding fees at all?)
[me]"I have to work until 5:30, tomorrow. I believe that was discussed. I'm very sorry that the doctor's husband is ill. I completely understand that she has had to leave. BUT, the papers I signed this morning, clearly state that Blue will be able to come home TODAY, as long as there are no complications. This is really just not acceptable. I chose your office because of your outstanding reputation, despite the fact that you were quite a bit higher than some of the other local offices. As a 24 hour office, I find it hard to believe that you don't have another vet available for emergencies."
[assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, we totally understand your worry for Blue Kitty. We will do everything in our power to do what we're able. I hoped you would be understanding, as the doctor is truly beside herself with her husband being ill and all."
[me]"Look, I do feel for your doctor. Really, I do. I just find it hard to believe that you can't have another doctor available to monitor the sedation or that your groomer can't take care of any of the multitude of pets he's supposed to groom, today. Isn't the whole purpose of being a 24 hour clinic being able to have someone on staff at all times? [trying desparately to NOT chew someone a new asshole]"
[assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, I'll talk with [Incredibly adorable groomer] and see what he can do. You know the risks involved with not sedating Blue. If you truly HAVE TO HAVE this done, today, I'll just tell him to go ahead with all of this without anesthesia. If this is what you choose, you'll have to come back into the office and sign consent. This will release us from any liability if your cat dies. [yes, that cold and pissy]"
[me]"You do NOT have my consent to groom her without sedation. That is the whole purpose of me bringing her to you. That is the whole purpose of your ridiculous charge of $98 for sedation, alone. I'll be home the rest of the day. Please call me as soon as you can resolve this issue. I do wish to send best wishes to Dr. [Vet], but I'd encourage you to make arrangements, in the future, to have a back-up vetrinarian for emergencies such as this. Call me as soon as you know something."
*click*

Yes, I know I should go get her and take her to another vet. BUT, I really do have to work forfreakingever for the next couple of weeks. Blue needs to have this done NOW. I worked around THEIR schedule, for goodness sake! If they try to charge me a boarding fee, I'll stop payment on the credit card transaction and they can take me to court. This is just ridiculous.

Yeah, I know I sound like a total bitch, what with the vet's husband being sick and all, but they are a fucking 24 hour clinic! Who takes care of things when the vet isn't there in the evenings or whatever? Guess I won't be recommending them to anyone. And how many times can a person say, "I understand" or "We assure you" before she sounds like a broken record?! Oh, and Blue Kitty better be pampered like a princess while she's there! grrrrrrrr

This and That

2008-03-18T10:25:00.003-04:00

Our customer appreciation weekend didn't go as well as we would have liked, but we DID more than double our return count from last year's figures for this weekend. Booya!

Don’t even go there. It’s only cuz I lub uze that you get to see this. It's hard to tell, but the shades are kinda cool. They're dollar signs!

The kids overslept today. I’m tired of excuses. I’m waiting for that microchip implant that zaps one with thousands of volts at pre-determined times, in order to wake one or just fuck with ‘em a little.

On a bizarre note:

Woman sues over in-flight ejaculation

A 21-year-old Harris County woman filed a $200,000 lawsuit against American Airlines alleging employees on a flight to Los Angeles from Dallas/Fort Worth Airport failed to protect her while she slept from another passenger who masturbated to her and ejaculated in her hair, according to a lawsuit she filed last week in Tarrant County.

The rest can be found here:

Ironic situation happened at work, yesterday. First, for those of you who don’t know or didn’t remember, I’m bipolar. Yes. For real. That’s why the following conversation between our multi-unit-supervisor and myself is so ironic:

MUS: What the hell is up with [my ex-sister-in-law (who was a tax preparer at our office for awhile)]?

Birdy: Why?

MUS: She quits with no truly rational explanation; she goes into a tirade with your daughter (another story for another time – it’s no big deal and it WAS bizarre as hell); she makes a scene in front of customers? Makes no sense!

Birdy: Hey, Philip’s family – real, imagined, blood, extended, all of them – are a pretty fucked up lot. I warned you about that. [laugh]

MUS: You know she shows all the classic signs of bipolar disorder, right? My mother-in-law is bipolar and [sister-in-law] acts just like her, sometimes. I’ve seen crazy bipolar people before. That’s how they act.

Birdy: Well, I know she’s been under a lot of stress, lately. She has a regular full-time job and was trying to work here, weeknights and all weekend long. Her dad is elderly and has to be watched pretty carefully. Her daughter just turned 18 and finally got her license and a job. [Sister-in-law] had to buy her a car to get back and forth to work. She’s not had time to socialize much. Maybe that’s why she’s been a bit…umm…nuttier than normal? I wouldn’t fret about it. She’s not an employee anymore, therefore, not our problem. Ya’ know?

MUS: Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know how close you two are. I hope I didn’t offend you, talking about her like that. But, you have to admit, she does act strange in spells. That’s a classic tell of bipolar; mood swings and the inability to control outbursts in public, when they’re in one of those … moods.

Birdy: [smile and nod, a tad dismissively] Hey, what do want to do for lunch?

Guess she doesn’t recognize it as well as she thinks, huh? Or is it just the rest of the world that’s screwed up and I just found the right meds? Hahahahaha!

I thought I learned "no" when I was like 3 or something

2008-03-12T12:05:00.003-04:00

Apparantly, I didn't learn how to use it in context. Or when to use it properly.

We're having Customer Appreciation Weekend at the tax office. Our district managers have decided that we don't exist. They worked out deals and plans with other stores and helped them get all they needed for their customer appreciation day blowouts, but just completely ignored our store and a few others. So, my manager, our multi-unit supervisor and I have decided to completely fuck up District's plan to forget we exist by out-doing every other store. Of course, we're doing all of this at our own expense. Okay, okay...our MUS did have to get permission to have more than 2 people working during customer appreciation weekend. She did that by threatening to quit, though.

There's a smaller tax franchise in this area called Liberty Tax Service. They have some of their employees dress up in this hideous costume, resembling Lady Liberty. We laugh at them. When they come near our store, we taunt them. Well, jokingly. Sort of.

Someone whom I love dearly (my manager) thought it would be great if we had a great big puffy
"J" costume. And, oh, who sews? Yeah, me. But who should wear the big puffy J? Oh, I wholeheartedly nominated one of our other TPA's. OF course, that wouldn't work. No, no, S is pretty good at her job, but she's not quite as outspoken as I am. So, guess who got nominated to wear the stupid big puffy J that I'm making? Me, of course. Dammit! I could have just said no! But, the one little thing my boss knows she has over me: I just can't say no to her. I never have. She never asks more than is fair. She's never asked me to do anything that wasn't reasonable. Until now. And she's even going to photograph this event and have it put on our corporate website. I may have to turn my head away for that!

Ironically, I'm usually shy in large gatherings of people I don't know. Now I'll be in the middle of a strip-mall, wearing a hideous puffy J costume and shades (thank GOD they said I can wear sunglasses!), waving stupidly at people, handing out balloons to whiney-snot-nosed children whose parents are either MIA (happens a lot in our strip-mall), shopping in another store, or have no intentions of filing their taxes but just come in to enter to win all the prizes we lined up (and paid for out of our own pockets). Oh, and to torture their kids by letting them have a balloon only until they get in their cars to leave.

We're a little worried about how the turn-out will be. If it's a flop, we won't be able to hold our heads high and we'll all be out a lot of hard-earned pocket money for nil. BUT, if it IS a success, we can thumb our noses at District and show them that we did it all on our own. Without them. Without anything but our own hard work and effort. And without their money. I overheard a conversation between our MUS and HER boss, yesterday, regarding the money thing: the 5 category 1 (do over 1200 returns a season) in Greensboro all get a $1500 budget for their customer appreciation days. They have call campaigners working the lists to help bring them business on those days. District will be providing them their balloons. District is helping them contact local sports teams, restaurants, gyms and other facilities for donations for prizes to give away. That's a bit annoying, as they've done NOTHING for us. They won't even let their call campaigners help us out. Fuckers. So, we're paying for it all. Doing it all. My boss and I are also doing all the flyers and such from our homes because we're not allowed to have a color printer at work. We're not allowed to have any software except the bare bones that Corporate deems business-effective (we don't even have Word, yall!). At least our MUS gave me permission to take a ream of copy paper from the office, rather than me having to go buy paper. I still have to buy more ink for my printer, though.

Enough whining, though. While I seem to have difficulty with "NO", if this makes our weekend a success, it'll be well worth it!

HAHA DISTRICT!!! WE'RE GOING TO TAKE CARE OF OURSELVES AND DO IT WITHOUT YOU. EVEN IF YOU TAKE CREDIT FOR IT LATER ON, WE WILL KNOW WHO REALLY MADE IT A SUCCESS.

umm, don't count on seeing a photo of me in a big stupid puffy J, though. hahahahaha

Ahh, the good life

2008-03-04T12:27:00.002-05:00

Life is good. Don't want to jinx myself, but really, life is good, today.

I could bitch about Thing. I could bitch about the lack of decent supplies and such at our office (and what a cheap bunch Jackson Hewitt can be). I could bitch about being 2 weeks behind on my car payement. I could bitch about a lot of things. But I won't.

This next part will sound selfish. Forgive me, please.

I opened the obituaries (as many people find themselves doing more and more often when approaching middle-age) yesterday and got a shock. An all-through-school-friend's dad passed away over the weekend. He was only 59 years old. I remember playing Ring-Around-The-Rosie at his house. Musical Chairs at my friend's 8th birthday party. The big ass apple tree that we used to climb in his back yard. Oddly, I also remember his gorgeous hardwood floors. Was I already learning high-fashion-homes at 8? Who knows.

I thought about my friend, whom I haven't seen in nearly 20 years, now. I realized that as much as a little part of me was sad for her and her brother and the rest of her dad's extended family, I was also very relieved. Relieved that I still have my mom and my dad and my mom's mother and my dad's father. Relieved that Philip still has his parents and most of his siblings. I also realized how much I love my parents (even when I'm upset with either of them). They weren't always very good parents, but at least I have parents; unlike many of my friends, now.

That sort of seems to wander off of the "life is good" theme, here, but it helped me realize just how good life is, at the moment.

My kids are terrific. A little "in-your-face", sometimes, but not always in a bad way. They're smart and clever and funny. They're also healthy.

My husband is an asshole, but an angel at the same time. He has put up with all my insanities for 20 years. He has loved me like no one in my life ever has. He has helped me when I needed it; nudged me when it was necessary; put me somewhere safe when it was dire. He has stuck with me through thick and thin. Even when he hated me (but still loved me) for stupid shit I did or didn't do. And HE is healthy.

I have a job that I enjoy, despite Jackson Hewitt's neglect of our one particular store (they are idiots, I tell you! Our little store, in our big-little town, makes them about a quarter-million dollars richer every year). At least for another month. I have dear friends all over the world. Two of which will be coming to visit very soon! I actually enjoy spending time with the teenagers who are mine and some who are not. Most of them enjoy spending time with me - in spells, at least. I've learned to be a mother AND a friend and confidante. My kids have allowed me to do this.

I live in a place I don't ever want to leave. Well, at least until I can convince Philip to move to the beach...haha.

Oh, and it's beautiful, today. A tad cloudy with rain clouds ominous - but we need the rain so desparately, it makes it okay. It's warm out - about 70° (about 21°C) with a warm breeze from the southwest. Trees are swaying, leaves are twisting and turning into little whirly-dervies in the back yard. I actually have new growth on the shrubs that made the transplant from Mama Dot's garden to my house fairly well. I have bulbs starting to bloom that didn't bloom last year. I'm not sure what they are, yet, but still, they're beginning to show leaves and stalks and "grass".

Philip is in Atlanta until Thursday, but we get to talk every night. I believe I heard him say, last night, that he misses my cooking. Nah, couldn't be. I must have heard that wrong. Maybe he just misses eating at home, all of us together. And absence really does make the heart grow stronger.

I have coffee and chocolate on hand. I have enough gas in my car to do what I need all week, until I get paid. Oh, yeah: I get paid this week!

On days like today, I like to sit and ponder on just how good life is. It's not the big things that make it easy; it's the little things that make it great.

OMG! I can't believe I've been away so long

2008-02-27T18:43:00.002-05:00

Sorry about being MIA for so long. Also, sorry I haven't replied to anyone, lately. I can't seem to find time to pee, much less blog, lately. *sigh*

Lady K, I HAVE read your recent blog entries. I feel so awful for you! I sincerely hope it's all over with, now and that you're well on the road to mend. By this time, next year, you'll have forgotten most of the horrors that went with all the surgeries and just be glad that you feel so AWESOME! I promise :)

I just realized that my last post never completely loaded. How funny it must have seemed.

That tattoo is MINE! I designed it and drew it all except the bird. Whodathunkit, I can't draw a friggin bird! The tattooist liked my design and lettering so much, he just copied it but rounded off the tombstone so the bird had a better perch than the more arched one I had begun with. He duplicated my lettering and all. Yeah, I'm currently working on what to add to it. I'm thinking about having the "tree of life" put in the background with tree roots crumbling out of the ground underneath the tombstone and snaking their way towards my foot.

The same day, Big A got her nose pierced. That's kind of how it all got started. She'd been wanting to get her nose pierced and I thought it was a MUCH better alternative than the belly-button or eyebrow idea she kept tossing around. We quietly headed out on a Saturday afternoon and went to the touted best tattoo/piercing parlour in town. While she was waiting, she kept pushing me to get that tattoo I've always wanted. I finally joked with her that I'd come back and get the tattoo, later that evening, if she promised not to faint on me. She *almost* fainted after the gal got the little stud twisted into place, but she managed to stay with us. Of course, I had to live up to my end of the bargain after that. We didn't tell anyone before we went, so it was all a big shock. The evening ended up being really cool. I called one of my cousins. She came over with her boyfriend - who just happened to be good friends with the top tattooist there - and got me moved from another guy's list over to Troy's list. I am SO GLAD! There was a live band performing that evening, to boot. I'm trying to contact the band, now, to see if I can get them to come play at our 3rd Annual Redneck Bash...shhhhh, don't tell C & D. hahahaha

I'm back at the tax office, by the way. Like you didn't see that coming. Sheesh. I'm tossing around the idea of learning how to pierce and getting certified. If I do, then I'm going to try to sweet talk my way into a job at the tattoo parlour. I seriously doubt yall saw THAT coming, though! I won't do privates or tongues, if I do get certified, though. I'm not squeamish; I just don't want to get sued if someone gets a staph infection in those oh-so-suceptible areas.

Okay, I'm off to design some flyers and coupons for the office. It'd be nice if I got paid for EVERYTHING I do over there!

xoxo to everyone!

Girl's day out

2008-01-27T00:18:00.000-05:00

Big A and I had a girl's day out, today. We went to visit my mom's mom and my dad's dad, who are now both living with Mama and Daddy (Grandma has been pretty sick and can't live alone, anymore. My grandfather has been living with my folks for about 2 years, now). Then we went for lunch, then we went to the local tattoo/body piercing parlour so Big A could get her nose pierced. Sorry, I don't have a picture, yet, as she was exhausted by the time we got home, tonight, and went straight to sleep. After she got her nose pierced (it's a very tasteful small stud

It's beginning to look a lot like...well, not Christmas

2007-12-30T09:33:00.000-05:00

The weather has been insane. We've had t-shirt weather, frostbite weather, rain, sleet, hail - the full gamut - all in no particular order the last few weeks. Christmas day was kinda gloomy and cool, but not really "cold". Most of us had on sweaters and sweats and no jackets.

I've been sick since 12/19 (yes, the day after my b-day and the day of the TSO concert - who are AWESOME!). Philip and I argued over whether I should go to the doc or not. I finally won, Friday. He should have let me go sooner. I have a sinus infection, upper respiratory infection, ear infection and "walking pneumonia" (the doc officially called it "crud in your lungs that would normally warrant me putting you in the hospital, but I know you won't go"). I also was (re) diagnosed with asthma. I've had asthma since I was a kid, but it's always been related to allergy attacks. This time, my body just couldn't fight off all the other stuff AND the asthma, so that didn't help things much. I also couldn't afford to fill all my FIVE prescriptions. I talked to the doc and she told me which one I could hold off on, so I'm trying to do without it. She said if worst came to worst, call her back Monday (tomorrow) and she'd see if she could find samples either at their office or at one of her friend's practices. I think I'm doing okay without it, though.

Did you guys know that prednisone makes you hyper? And won't let you sleep? And makes your skin flush? And makes you pee a lot? And leaves a horrible taste in your mouth and smell in your nose? But, I can catch my breath, finally. I think all the rest is worth it for that.

I started back at the tax office, yesterday. Yes, I went in sick as hell. My boss followed me around with Lysol...hahahaha. We really did make sure to keep the phone sprayed down, my work station and other places where I sat down for any length of time. It would suck to get other people sick. Yesterday was mostly just training, though. New year: new laws, programs, ethics and fraud policies, etc. I start, officially, Wednesday. Oh, and my boss and I are the ONLY daytime employees at the moment. WTF is up with Jackson Hewitt?! The class I went to a couple of weeks ago had over 600 people in it. How come none of them are working at OUR office? Or at least as daytime help? We have one woman who is about 14 months pregnant who will be a preparer, but she can only work from 9am-2pm. What's the use? She really is due anytime, now, anyway. But, hey, whatever. I can handle it.

Tax changes this year are pretty fucked up. A lot of things aren't even in place, yet. Don't run out to get your refund checks as soon as you get your W-2's this year. Wait until late February or early March if you can. One of the changes needed is a "fix" that is usually set in place every tax season before January. It hasn't even been approved, this year, yet. Dubya has even (so our instructor told us) threatened to veto the "fix", even though it's the same fix as every year - to accommodate inflation and such. I tell ya, the man has just slap lost his fucking mind. If you have ever liked him, that's your choice and I won't hold it against you ;) BUT, if you STILL like him...well...he's bending us over every way he can, right now. If he vetoes this patch, everyone who makes over $33K/year will have to work with an alternative minimum tax. Do you usually get a refund? You won't.

Okay, the prednisone has kicked in and I can't be still. May as well go clean something. Or make something. Or go for a run, pulling a car behind me or something....hahahaha!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!

Happy Holidays from the Birdy Family

2007-12-24T21:40:00.000-05:00

May you all be blessed this season. Stay safe and enjoy the love that seems to spread even moreso during this time of year.

If you visit Starbucks, at all, I urge you to get into the "pass it on" thing. If you don't know about it, it's simple: you offer to buy the person's order who is behind you. If it goes well, they will, in turn, buy the next person's order (even if it costs a bit more), and so on and so on. Little A and I did this, today and we found out that we were the FIFTIETH customer who did so! How cool is that?

xoxo to you all.

p.s. Brian and Diane: thank you SOOOOOOO much for the book! I'm loving it AND the bookmark. Ya'll are very special in my heart.

Timeline

2007-12-18T09:15:00.000-05:00

Today: I am officially 38 years young. I'm going to lunch with my mom, then hoping to finish my Christmas shopping. Philip has his work Christmas party to go to. I won't see him until 10-ish or later. Umm, attendance from the employees is all but mandatory, so I'm not upset that he's going. Besides, he'll get his "Christmas bonus", which usually consists of gift cards to the most expensive grocery store in town. But, hey - free groceries are free groceries!

Tomorrow: Trans-Siberian Orchestra. I'm taking Big A and Thing. Wish me luck...it would suck to get arrested for assaulting a pedantic, mopy, self-centered waste of a "young man", while in another city, many miles away.

Friday: We have some party to attend, but I can't remember where or what time. I'm counting on Philip to remember that.

Saturday: Philip's mom and dad are having an "open house". I'm trying to get out of it, as we'll see them Christmas day, but Philip is trying to talk me into it. C'mon! I'll be tuckered by Saturday.

Sunday: My family's Christmas. I'm actually excited about it because my mom got the girls some kick-ass cool gifts that they actually ASKED FOR! Oh, and she's getting Philip "Kissology Vol. 3"!! He'll be so totally stoked!

Monday (Christmas Eve): Big A goes to spend the day with Thing and his family. Little A and I are taking a shift with my grandmother (she had a stroke a few weeks ago and has to have someone with her 24/7, for now).

Christmas Day: A trip to visit Grandma again, then off to Philip's family's Christmas. It should be fun. We each bought $1 gifts for everyone in the family. Every person will have 19 gifts to open (even if they ARE cheap, it's still fun)! We're also doing "Dirty Santa" - his mom calls it "Stingeeee Santa" (yes, with multiple eeeee's). Not my favorite part of it all, because someone ALWAYS gets their feelings hurt. The grown-ups will "steal" gifts from the kids that the kids oftentimes want to keep. I usually end up with the new set of fridge magnets or whatever, so at least ONE of the kids gets to keep the gift he or she really wants. It's just a game, for Christ's sake. Why grown-ups act like 4-year olds in a Barbie (or GI-Joe) tug-of-war is beyond me.

Wednesday: I start back at the tax office! I'm so totally giddy about going back there. Getting a paycheck is exciting, too.

New Year's weekend: A friend's "Holiday Party".

New Year's Eve: Hopefully nothing at all.

I'm tired just reading all that....

Neat Idea

2007-11-27T11:33:00.000-05:00

Okay, don't steal my idea! Hahaha...you can, if you want. You can also tell me if it sounds cheezy as hell. Actually, please tell me if you think it's cheezy!

For family and our closest closest closest friends (cuz we're talkin' bout money I wanna spend on the kids, not on extra cd's, jewel cases, labels, etc.), I'm making a CDRom kinda like one of those "newsletters" that some folks send out in lieu of Christmas cards each year, but as a slideshow you can play over and over if you want.

I say I'm making the cd...actually, I'm just getting stuff set up how I want it and Big A is going to "assemble" it for me. She knows how to do all this stuff. She's going to set background music in it, too. When I asked her if she knew how to do it, she just "pshawed" me and waved her hand. She said, "Gosh Mom, that's easy as pie!" I think I blushed. Easy as pie? C'mon! Is it really that easy, or is this one of those teenage things where they've learned so much in computer technology that they make some of us grown-ups seem completely ignorant?

Anyway, I'm adding photos of some of the more important events of this past year. I'm recalling cool stuff that's happened (like becoming a great-aunt for the second time - including a picture of my neice and her husband with the new baby - 1 month old, now). I think it'll be fun. Except....I can't give one to my dad's dad (Papa) or my mom's mom (Grandma Mac), because they don't have computers. They DO both have dvd players, though. Now I'm wondering if Big A knows how to burn a dvd. She finally got her computer set up and it has a dvd burner and all the bells and whistles. If she tells me she knows how to move the slideshow and such over to dvd, I think I'll have to smack her! hahahahahaha Maybe I should take a "computer for dummies" class or something??

Umm, Philip told me something last night that made me sick to my stomach. I only have $500 to spend on Christmas for EVERYONE! Has he lost his ever-lovin' mind? That doesn't even cover the girls' lists!.

Hell, HIS list is more than half of that!

*sigh* I guess I have to hope that I sell a few pieces of my craftwork and that I get a LOT of money for my birthday. The girls WILL get the most important items on their lists.

Even if I have to do something underhanded or go strip at the local sesspool. You think I'm kidding?

Quiet

2007-11-22T01:01:00.000-05:00

Do you ever feel like just being quiet and still? Not so much a "down" as just, "I'm tired of being busy and all the noise of the outside world" - kind of quiet?

I need some quiet.

I've found some lovely smooth jazz and old-school soul/blues and downloaded them. I think to me, the music is perhaps like a glass of red wine, after a long day, feels. Relaxing. Slow. Quiet. Still. Tranquility.

My grandmother is in the hospital again. She's had a mini-stroke - amazingly, she reached the hospital just in time for the ER staff to stop the stroke. I didn't even know they could do that! Her EKG is not good. Her heart is working overtime, her blood-gases are way too low, her blood pressure is being controlled with strong doses of nitro-glycerin and aspirin and something else - I really didn't need to know anymore than that. We're going to see her tomorrow.

She's been very depressed, lately and finally talked with her nurse about it. They started her on Paxil, yesterday. They're pretty sure none of the above symptoms have anything to do with the Paxil, because of the timeframe. I mean, it would be way too soon for Paxil to do any damage - and it's supposed to be pretty safe.... except for the dependancy part. But, hey, if it works... I'm just really starting to accept that she's old. She was always the strong grandmother. She was always forgiving and had a kind word after giving you a good ol' "talking to". I hope she'll give me a good ol' talking to, tomorrow when I go to see her. Remind me that I need to visit more.

I'm just thinking out loud, really. I'm going to listen to some smooth sounds - gonna even add in some fan-fucking-tastic guitar and piano (Santana, Satriani, Ferrante & Teicher). *sigh* Barry White is about to croon a good one out, so, still and quiet night to you all.

Aqua-venison and popularity

2007-11-14T12:59:00.000-05:00

(the first part may bother some of my fellow animal-lovers, but I assure you, it was not MEANT to be such a painful experience for Bambi's mother...damn Philip! If you look past the sadness, the story has its funny parts, I promise.)

The story of the swimming deer:

Last Saturday. First day of rifle/shotgun season. Philip barely sleeps through the night and is up at 3:30 am. He's pissed because his best bibs and jacket are missing. It's cold as hell, but he's managed to find some layers - just not as much camoflauge as he'd like. I wake up because of all his nervous energy, despite how quiet he tries to be. He apologizes, I say it's okay, he turns the overhead light on (that's NOT okay, dammit!) and begins talking to me. WTF?! I said it was okay that he woke me up, not that I was willing to hold a conversation!

Saturday night. He comes home around 9pm. I asked if the shot I heard at 9:30-ish was his. No. His shot was at 7-ish (am). I ask if he went back out that evening. Yes, to continue trying to find his deer. ??? After one friend with tracking dog gave up all hopes, Philip went to find the master of all trackers: PeeWee (Penny, the 12 year old, completely deaf, 4 lb. chihuahua/fice mix). Oh, and her person: Roger. After many more failed attempts, even PeeWee the Magnificent can't find a trail. Roger suggests they go some 100+ yards out of the way and head towards the catfish pond. Philip has resigned himself to having the back of his favorite flannel shirt cut out (lodge tradition when you miss your target), and determined he must have just plain missed Bambi's mother. Not to be, says Roger. Philip never misses.

Catfish pond: Philip is looking all about the woods and forest, ignoring Roger's requests to go TO the pond, not NEAR it. Roger calls out to Philip - Philip is lost in the woods (hahahahaha!!!) - and says, "follow my voice and head TOWARDS THE FUCKING POND!" Philip reaches Roger and PeeWee. PeeWee is barking and growling ferociously (despite her size, I dare say ANYONE would ever appreciate the aftermath of a dispute with her). Roger is laughing. Philip is irritated and in no mood for games. Roger says, "Where do wounded animals go?" Philip says - as irritated and annoyed as ever - "To water. I know that, dammit! You've told me that at least 100 times!" Roger moves aside, leaving Philip an unincumbered view of the pond, then says, "Where's your deer?"

They had to wait for the wind to push Bambi's mother to the other side of the pond, as she began in the direct center of about 15 feet of nasty, murky, cold, snake infested water. Philip found a long stick with a curved branch on the end and tiptoed as near the water he could, without getting his boots wet (Heaven forbid he ruin his boots - his shirt, okay, but not his boots...) and snags her. He was incredibly pissed at that point and dragged her out by the ears. I did have to fuss about that. Despite the fact that she was long-dead with no feeling, this was a majestic creature who will serve our family in fine style by feeding us through the slow months. I was also a little pissed that he made such a lousy shot that Bambi's mother, most likely, drowned to death, rather than a quick and nearly painless death after a finely planted rifle shot. I think he felt a bit bad, after I put it that way.
__________________________________________________________

Onto the popularity story. A friend recently asked me if I was one of the popular ones, then and now. No, I can assure my friend that I was not, am not, never have been.

I was popular within my small circles, but only because I was usually the most outgoing of the bunch. In many ways - some not so peachy-clean. I can now say, without hesitation, the only reason I was so outgoing was because I was so incredibly and painfully shy, making a spectacle of myself assured me that no one would ever have to know the real me.

I no longer think like that. I also don't worry so much if I'm popular, persay; I just like being accepted. If I feel out of place within a group, I find someone else who seems equally reticent, and start a new conversation. If that fails, I sit with the main group; laugh on cue; groan when appropriate; roll my eyes at stupid jokes; daydream about more fun times; let Philip know in our own secret body language that I'm ready to leave whenever he is. Sometimes I'll yawn on purpose. Other times I'll prompt Philip to tell one of his funny experiences, that may be a favorite of mine.

To my friend, though: I don't think you ever have to worry about being "popular". You are spectacular and admired by most who know you. Admiration and popularity may not necessarily be synonyms, but in the grown-up-world, it still feels the same :)

Current Read

2007-11-12T14:53:00.000-05:00

Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper Case Closed by Patricia Cornwell (had I looked a bit longer, I could have found better sites, but...deal)

Many of you know that I'm all into morbid. I was watching a program, the other night, all about Jack the Ripper. The more I watched, the more astounded I became that I'd never studied up on ol' Jack. So, morbid fascination took me to the bookstore - well, that and Big A and the promise of a truly fantastic iced mocha from Joe Mugs, located inside Books A Million. I stopped a clerk, asking about locating something fun on ol' Jack, as BAM likes to play with one's head and organize their books by author's last name - even in the non-fiction sections - with no hint towards actual story content. Said clerk - he was about 6'6"; 300 lbs.; a bit slow, but very sincere; incredibly unhappy with his job; ready to pounce on the 8-ish yr olds left to wander and pillage by some mother who doesn't give a damn (I scared them off for him...despite what you may have heard, I can be rather mean to children when it's called for) - groaned slightly and began helping me search. Then, he had an "AHA!" moment and handed me a very large, very thick, very expensive hardback on all serial killers: real and imagined. Not exactly what I was looking for, but I thanked him and carried the book around for a bit, until I was sure he wouldn't notice that I was putting it back.

I poked around in the non-fiction section (I MUST suggest they break their non-fiction down, at least by subject!) a bit more, then defeatedly left to see if there was a Cornwell novel I'd NOT read yet. Well, there was(is), but it's still in hardback and I'm not wealthy...so, head hanging low, I trapsed toward the coffee shop in the back. Some unknown force tugged at me, leading me toward the non-fiction, again and (I swear to you, I am NOT lying!) a book lay in the floor. It had, apparantly, fallen out as I was putting back the other one. I nearly pissed myself. Not only was it non-fiction all about Jack The Ripper, but it was written by Patricia Cornwell! It was even paperback and only $7.95! And I'm a member so I got a 20% discount that day! I get excited over the silliest things, sometimes.

This book is riveting. While Cornwell is incredibly technical in all her writing, and much of her prose goes beyond my limited scope of "big words" (I keep a dictionary nearby, sometimes), the information, itself, is worth it. Not to mention, it expands my meager vocabulary.

When I'm done, I'm sure I will completely believe that it was not Whistler; it was not the barber; it was definately not James Maybrick (who was so addicted to arsenic, he consumed well beyond a lethal dose every single day until his death - of arsenic poisoning; for which his wife was wrongly convicted and imprisoned);could not have been Dr. Gull, the Duke of Clarence, the queen Mother or anyone involved in that lot. The most likely and culpable suspect, was indeed, Walter Sickert; an odd, but greatly fanatasized artist. His artwork (I, now, have a NEW fascination!) is quite morbid, when scrutinized closely, but oftentimes lovely, when viewed from a proper distance.

I'll probably buy the big book on all serial killers, at some point, but for now, I'm quite satisfied with Patricia Cornwell's thoughts and theories.

'tis the season

2007-11-06T13:42:00.000-05:00

Bow season has passed (yes, you can still shoot a bow during the entire season, but for a short period, bows only are allowed); muzzle-loader (black powder) season has had the windows rattling for a few days; the dogs bark and bark and bark and bark; Philip is in a foul mood for many reasons, but still has that little-boy gleam in his eye.

Gun season begins this coming Saturday.

He has purchased a new scope. We have teased him, mercilessly, about adding a new scar to his forehead (remind me to tell you that story, sometime). Roger has helped him sight it in. It is precisely 1&1/2" high and slightly to the left. Just the way he likes it.

He has had me rummaging the entire house for every single thing that remotely resembles camoflauge, in hopes of finding his missing bibs. I can't find them. He has me rummage the girls' rooms. I find no camo, but lots of tobacco products and paraphernalia. I don't tell him that. No use, really. (any of you who began smoking as a teen can attest to that fact)

He, all of a sudden, claims he is "broke". That's funny. I saw him on the net, credit card in hand, perusing any and all camoflauge-related apparel. I'm expecting UPS in a few days.

Guns are cleaned. The smell of oil, pungent in the air. Scent-cover items are askew all through the house. I actually love that smell. That smell means he is happy. I love his smile lines and anything that provokes them always entices me. Well, except for the two other "smell-agents" that he finally digs out from behind the gun cabinet: small tins of stuff to spread on your boots and lower part of your pants - in the scent of "dirt" - and then the infamous doe urine. I'm not sure how, but he actually managed to attain real doe urine. Not the synthetic stuff you can buy for a couple o' bucks a bottle. I sincerely hope the bottles don't leak or spill. Or get opened inside the house. My nose tends to stay crinkled up for days after smelling it. It's almost a nostril-paralysis-inducing scent.

I'm sent to look for anything that "wicks". I specifically remember purchasing him a lovely set of double-layer, wicking, silk long johns, a few years ago. I can't find them. They were NOT cheap. I do manage to find 2 pairs of wool socks and one pair of his favorite wicking socks. He grins in glee. I'm told to find the nearest shop that sells "Gold Toe" socks. They carry the best wicking socks with the greatest price to prove it. I have never paid $19.95 for ONE pair of socks in my life. I refuse to indulge him, there.

The lint screen in the dryer must be cleaned or replaced. We must wash at least 2 loads of clothes, without fabric softener (and preferably without detergent - but he's just being ridiculous at that point), before we can wash his old attire. Once the new attire comes in, he'll was them somewhere else. Heaven forbid a scent that doesn't belong may linger through the forest.

Let's go backwards about a week or two:

It's midnight. The cats are still outside. It's a cool night and they've never stayed outside all night long when it's that cool. I'm in my customary long t-shirt and skivvies, on the front porch, calling "here kitty kitty", over and over and over and...
I hear the sound of a baby crying. It's actually very close. How odd. OH HOLY SHIT! Something about the size of my largest dog, with very similar coloring (a beautiful light-golden-tan) and a long, wavering tail begins to trapse through the front yard/woods. Mountain lions/cougars/pumas - whichever you choose to call them - sound like babies crying when they're claiming territory.

Another night, not so long after, it's midnight and the cats are out, again. I'm in my customary t and skivs, shivering on the front porch, as the temp has dropped into the 40's (42°F = 6°C), calling for the cats and hoping it's MY cats who come, not the monster from the other evening. I hear a noise too loud to be my small kitties and get ready to dart into the house, when I see something so magical and glorious, I become hypnotized. It's a rack as big as Rhode Island. Okay, okay...it's a very large 6-pointed rack that is incredibly symetrical and thick and curved "just so". Despite my own disdain for shooting animals, I believe, had I had a gun within near reach, I would have taken this beautiful beast down, myself. I don't have time to even run in and wake Philip, as the kitties come running and meowing to be let in - just in time to send Mister Beauti-Buck running for thicker cover.

We have millions of acorns scattered throughout our back and front yards. There are nearly as many black walnuts (I fucking hate those things, because they roll as soon as you step on them, sending feet every-which-a-way). Deer love acorns. I have taken to standing on the front or back porch, most evenings, near midnight (but in real clothing, now), to watch for the deer. I've seen many. They like our yard. They're no longer afraid of the dogs. I haven't seen Mr. Beauti-Buck, again, though.

I believe Philip will have a very fruitful season. I also believe I'll see more of those smile lines. Life is beautiful in the country.

I got fired

2007-11-03T00:20:00.000-04:00

Yep. After visiting their doctor, I failed their drug test. This is actually impossible, as I've abstained because of the damn job. More than one person told me that Wal-Mart tends to find a reason to terminate folks who file workman's comp claims. The manager who did the final paperwork (I'd not met her before that day, but she had "heard all about me") told me flat out that she believed me when I said I was clean (NSAIDs, ibuprofen and a few other OTC meds can actually cause you to test positive for THC - I asked a pharmacist). She said she hated to see me go, but there was nothing that could be done from her level. She said I could fight it and even offered to give me the numbers to the "higher-ups". I told her it wasn't worth it and I really didn't want to work in an environment where one gets punished for doing her job. She laughed and patted me on the shoulder and told me I'd be just fine and wished me well. She knows. They all know.

The other guy did turn in his notice. In one week, the electronics department will officially have 2 full-time employees and 3 part-timers. One of the full-timers is the supervisor; she's looking for another job as we speak. Not because of me, but she was really sweet and said that it just gave her even more reason to want out of there. I think she was just saying that, though...I was a bit upset because of the drug test shit being on my permanent work record. I could fight it, but it would cost me a fortune and even if I were able to prove that I was clean (except for the legal prescriptions that the drug screening co. were aware of - and I shared them ALL and I was using them LEGALLY), it's already filed with the state and getting that changed is like getting Bush to withdraw troops. Fuck 'em all.