I passed

Thanks for rooting me on, I was super uncertain of my footing on this exam…but I passed!  I can wallow in the glory for just a couple more days before I have to move on to the next class…but a couple days of no studying feels pretty decadent so far.

Gwar

Gwar was awesome, incredibly good fun!  Hell yeah!  I have the bruises to prove it.  The folks at the Candler Waffle House weren’t exactly sure to make of us as we strolled in wet, green and blue, soaked in Gwar juice…but they served us anyway.  I suppose when you’re open 24 hours a day, nothing’s weird anymore.

One thing I did not expect from the blood, jizz and miscellaneous gore that spewed upon us was the smell.  Not the smell of the liquids, not at all.  What was sprayed all over us didn’t have a smell (or a taste—it was running down my face several times, so I got more than one taste of it).  The problem is that when you add moisture of any kind to the unwashed population of Ashevegas, you get a freakin’ stench like you wouldn’t believe…like a sheepdog that rolled in equal portions of sauerkraut, dung and patchouli.  It was…unholy, horrible, overwhelming at moments.

And then, one other factor that I didn’t consider before the show is that when I am soaking wet and sticky from all the Gwar fluids, the hair of other people flailing about will stick to me.  Ohhhh hellllllllllllll, talk about creeped out: not only was my sense of smell being assaulted by the odor, but the crawly feeling you get all over when you see hair plastered to your arm that is not yours that won’t flippin’ come off…ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.  Eww. Ewwwwwwwww!

But anyhooooooooooooooooo, Gwar was rockin’ and hysterical and outstanding!  A wild, moshing mess we were as we bounced around the front of the Peel covered in who knows what.   Good times!!  Next year is the 25th anniversary for the band, so hopefully they’ll make it back this way again.

Send me healthy thoughts

It’s that magical time of year where my asthma and allergies combine to keep me teetering precariously on the edge of wellness and sickness.  I’m teetering today, and I’m trying hard to push up and over into the land of wellness.  I’ve got my Emergen-C, water, echinacea, OJ, zinc.  Send me healthy thoughts, because with the timing of some other stuff, I really really really gotta be on my toes.

you should get a gold star for patience

if not a gold star for patience, maybe like a special hat you could wear.  or a sash.

i swear if anyone called me and launched into a conversation about how they took some quiz online and wanted to delve deeply into the profound life-altering multiple choice meanings, i would hang up…and then tear the f-ing phone out of the wall.  your patience is astounding.

and it further illustrates why i don’t like to answer the phone! don’t answer unless you’re positive what awaits you on the other end.

what does Prince wear around the house?

Yes, I’m supposed to be studying, but sometimes these random thoughts are very important to consider.  What does Prince wear around the house?  Historically, he’s always been a very fashion forward, chic sort of person.  While I’ve seen photos of Madonna, for example, looking like hell on a stick as she goes out for coffee, Prince is always neat, presentable, elegant.

So.

It’s Sunday, late morning.  What do you think Prince is wearing right now?  Do you think he’s wearing yesterday’s tshirt (like me!) and some semi-sketchy-not-sure-when-these-were-last-washed flannel pajama pants (like me!) as midday approaches?  Do you think his significant other has to be all up in his face like “Prince, you’ve been wearing that Lakers sweatshirt for what, 3 days now? What is that on the front, nacho cheese?  You’ve got to put on something clean before my mother comes over and for god’s sake, brush your teeth!”  Yeah, it’s hard to imagine his Royal Purpleness sniffing at his cheese-stained 3 day old sweatshirt and going “But honeyyyyyyyyyyyy, I smell fine!”  Do you think he has some nasty hole riddled pair of sweatpants or flannel pj pants that his woman would set on fire if she could just get him parted from them for any length of time?  I’d like to think that Prince is a regular guy.  That thought comforts me.

Let’s just pause for a moment so I can be pissed

Without rehashing too much, Minime spends only a couple nights a month at her dad’s house, and this is brand new as of a few months ago—-for the first 10+ years of her life, it was 100% all my responsibility 24/7.  The couple nights a month are important for her because she’s never had a father around at all so she’s really excited to be there, and those couple nights are important to me so I can catch up on some things.

Tonight was one of those two nights in October that she was supposed to be at her dad’s house.  She called a few hours ago and said she didn’t feel so great.  I told her I was sorry she was feeling yucky and talked to her dad about making her a little more comfy so she could rest.  Guess who just appeared on my doorstep?  Minime and her dad.  He brought her back because she didn’t feel so great, which apparently is all my problem to deal with and he’ll see us in a couple weeks, bye.

I am pissed.  I am not pissed at Minime, but I sure as hell am pissed at her dad for shirking his responsibilities.  I have things to do, some pretty high priority things to do, that will be thwarted by fetching Sprite, tissues, finding movies, adjusting the thermostat, on and on…things that her dad could have done for her and should have done for her.  It is not that I don’t want to take care of my sick child because she is my everything and of course I’ll take care of her, but dammit I have done this all alone for years on end, cleaning up the snot and the barf and refilling drinks and adjusting blankets just so, fetching favorite stuffed animals and fluffing pillows so it just doesn’t seem like too much to ask for her dad to do it for just one night.  Just one night.

And what could I do in front of Minime except let her in the house when they showed up?  I’m not going to reject my daughter, shoo her away, when she’s standing in front of me with her overnight bag of PJs and videos.

So.  I’m pissed at her father.  I’m angry.  And I’m being summoned for a drink or a snack or something right this second.  Sigh.

i hope…

…that i pass this exam the first time on tuesday so i can take maybe two days to regroup and reorganize.  i have lost so many things in the last 6 weeks or so, completely misplaced them, which is not like me at all…i’m hoping everything i’m missing turns up all at once, on a shelf…like i’ll open a cabinet, and everything i’ve hidden from myself will leap out and say “surprise!” like it’s a party.  i did take the time to work on my office, and nothing i’m looking for is there…so…if i were me, where would i have put it?  yeah.  i need to pass this exam and free up a little space in my brain for a few minutes!!

hell yeah

I’m enrolled in the motorcycle class I wanted to take—will work on motorcycle skills and safety to ultimately pass the skills test for the motorcycle endorsement on my driver’s license (still have to take the written exam, though).  I’ll be doing that class in November.  Most folks I know are pretty supportive of me taking this class.  Others are sort of frowny about it, don’t like the risk involved with me riding a motorcycle…but I need to, I want to, I have to.  I don’t know how else to explain it, other than I need to, want to, have to.  Trust me.