It doesn’t take me forever to get ready before we go somewhere. You don’t have to worry about messing up my makeup or my hair by touching me. My clothes and shoes aren’t worth all that much so I won’t have a fit if they get wet or get food on them or whatever. I’m real.
This means that almost everyone is taller than me. It seems like guys generally like to be taller than their girls, so this works in my favor.
1. a house
2. various purebred pups including a pug,
3. basset hound,
4. tiniest of teacup chihuahuas,
5. mastiff &
6. english bulldog
7. a Smart car or something even smaller
8. a motorcycle
9. travel trailer
10. one carat diamond ring
11. fancy bed like with four posts or maybe a sleigh bed
12. oversized chair that folds out into a twin bed
13. very light bicycle
14. hideous-colored bowling shoes
15. lovely Tiffany-style lamp
16. spiffy yet easy to use camera
17. ice skates
18. cool suitcase
19. autographed book by Terry Pratchett,
20. Anne Rice,
21. Douglas Adams,
22. Neil Gaiman,
23. C. S. Lewis and
24. Stephenie Meyers
25. a boat
26. a tent
27. finches
28. a snake
29. really cool designer sunglasses
30. pet squirrel
31. some awesome replica sword
32. a tutu
33. bouquet of poppies
34. cashmere underwear
35. the soundtrack of Hannibal
36. tall rain boots
37. Ralph Fiennes’ autograph
38. Alien perfume
39. a sexy corset
40. Roger Waters’ autograph
41. also Syd Barrett’s
42. a velveteen rabbit
43. ten thousand rainier cherries
dad was in charge of getting me ready for school, and he had no idea what the heck to do with a little girl’s hair. He decided the only sensible thing to do would be to part it in the middle and comb it straight down. He didn’t know about detangling spray or leave-in conditioner and neither did I, so there was a lot of yanking and a lot of tears. This seemed to go on forever. I don’t know when I started doing my own hair but I’m sure it came as a relief to both of us.
This pic is not me btw.
1. Was happy to be working with my buddy Heath today.
2. Happy Brian hung the ATHF poster – it looks great.
3. One of my favorite regular customers came in twice.
Anxiety dream about being a server in a restaurant I was unfamiliar with. Didn’t know how to use their P.O.S., didn’t know the table numbers, didn’t know the menu at all. :(
Also dreamed about various loves. Probably because of the stupid James Taylor cd at work that I have to look at all the time. (Two of the people I dreamed about were James and Taylor.) Can’t remember who, but someone snuggled me sweetly.
1. worked
2. took my meds
3. emailed a friend
4. didn’t spend any money
5. got to bed at a reasonable time
when you go to Macy’s, or any store that sells clothes, please be just a tiny bit considerate. The clothes you don’t want, the ones you leave on the ground, a human has to come along and pick it up, put it back on the hanger and figure out where it’s supposed to be. Robots don’t do it. Neither do little elves or fairies in the night. Humans. Tired humans who don’t make a lot of money. Please, please think of us. Thank you. <3
Not only in a Monty Python sense, either. Yes, it is frightening, evil gelatinous canned meat, but it is also delightfully salty, and precooked, so if you were desperate you could just rip it open and start chowing. I like it thinly sliced and fried. I have not had it with eggs but I’d probably dig it. I haven’t eaten Spam for…16 years or so? It may have changed a lot in this time. I have happy memories of Spam.
1. worked
2. worked somewhere else! ha!
3. gave my new address to Starbucks
4. requested day off for next therapy appointment
5. did some dishes
1. I think I did a decent job at both employers today.
2. I received compliments on a couple of the things I wore.
3. It feels good to be chillin’ at home now.
As we were highly disfunctional, the holidays were not a sacred time of togetherness in my family. We all just kind of did our own thing and did our best to ignore the sad truth all around. One year I’d been given permission to attend the Thanksgiving feast with a friend’s family, which I thoroughly enjoyed. My brothers were off who knows where, and dad padded around the house softly as mom lay in a drunken stupor in her dark, cold, cavernous bedroom. At some point she woke up enough to realize what day it was, and she felt something, either sadness or anger, and she insisted dad go buy a turkey so she could cook it, even though we weren’t there to eat it. Dad dutifully brought home a bird, and mom put it in the oven…with the plastic bag of giblets still inside. Soon the kitchen was full of black, foul smelling smoke and dad was trying to salvage the poor thing. It made for a funny story later, but at the time, it was just pathetic. I don’t know what mom was thinking. Maybe she had a little fit of guilt and remorse that her children all wanted to be somewhere else on Thanksgiving. Maybe she just wanted some turkey.
