An Attempt to Blog

I'm trying to be better about updating this blog but I don't seem to be doing a very good job of it. I think the only reason I'm even bothering is because I began the damn thing and it seems like I shouldn't quit on yet another hobby (see tap, ballet, the daisies, etc from my childhood). Sadly, my life seems unremarkable or else I forget anything interesting by the time I decide to give it a go again. I really should keep notes when something pops into my head.

Tig & The 20's
A year or so ago I found the program 'Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries', an Australian series that takes place in the 1920's. Yeah, it is the most esoteric thing I've ever watched but it was extremely enjoyable. A week or so ago, my friend Tig messaged me saying that she was binge watching this new program and wouldn't you know it, it was Miss Fisher. We have both become obsessed. I rewatched the first season only to discover that I'd never actually watched the second one so I've been binging and Googling and Tig and I basically want to be Phyrne Fisher. I told Tig that we needed to start wearing gloves and hats immediately and her response was "don't say these things if you don't mean them." Now, I've been wanting to start wearing gloves for ages but never really put much thought or effort into it. So I asked her where we would acquire these items and without missing a beat, she responded "Macy's".

One of these days we will go to Macy's and hats and gloves will be purchased. Then we will go to Half Price Books because I discovered that the series is based on a book series and so yippee! More Phyrne Fisher!

Seriously, you should look this up on Netflix because it is just so, so delightful. I just typed up a description of the program but it was god awful. Suffice it to say Miss Fisher is a fabulously wealthy feminist who does as she pleases regardless of society mores and becomes a 'Lady Detective', solving murder mysteries and disappearances with her devoutly Catholic companion Dot and a handful of other characters (all of whom are very enjoyable). The accents, stage sets, and costumes are brilliant and all I want to do is find a fairy god mother to give me a wardrobe similar to Phyrne's.

My Relationship
I try not to write too much about my relationship with the Bat. I'm not sure why, I just try to relegate those posts to when I feel like I need to work things out in my mind. But things are continuing on and are pleasant enough. We let certain parts slide for a while but I think we are getting those back and reestablishing certain routines, which helps. I feel really comfortable when I'm with him and like it is right and I do hope he feels the same way. It's nice to be in a relationship and feel loved and cared for and not have to worry about anything. I'm hoping we continue to grow together, as a couple, because I think it is important and during our complacent period of late, I was a bit unhappy. You do need to work on relationships, I'm a firm believer in that, and I don't want to neglect ours. I think he is of the same mindset though I don't think he consciously realized that we had been sort of neglecting it. Sometimes I think he senses things but they only come fully to light when I say something that triggers the feelings to bubble to the surface. Or he's just quiet about it, I don't know.

At any rate, things are good with us and I hope they continue to be so.

Bubbles, a Possible Rehoming

When I first moved to Texas in April of 2013, I met a guy who I dated for about four months. He'd been divorced for four years and had three children. When he'd moved out, he bought a cat because his daughter loved them and he wanted her to have one at his place. I believe she was seven at the time and they'd been blowing bubbles and, so, they named the cat Bubbles. During the course of my relationship with this man, is ex-wife informed him that she was moving back east and was going to take two of the kids (the eldest is from a previous relationship). He got a lawyer with hopes of keeping her from doing so and ended up getting primary custody. She split and he moved back into the family home.

Bubbles did not get along with Merlin, the cat his daughter had and possibly had grown up with. I don't know if he was impatient or insensitive or stupid but he decided he had to get rid of Bubbles because his daughter was more attached to Merlin and he obviously could not get rid of him. But ex boyfriend was not going to take his time in finding a new home for Bubbles but was, instead, going to put her on the side of the road. This horrified me and so I acted without thinking.

At this time I'd had my beloved guinea pig, Johan the Destruktor, for about four years. I decided soon after I got him and fell in love with him that I'd never own a pet again because I knew how much it was going to hurt when he died.

But at that moment I did not think and decided that I'd take Bubbles because it wasn't fair to just put her on the side of the road. Thus, I have a cat.

Bubbles, Johan and I got along fine. After about a month, Bubbles was used to me and would come out and be with me. She became very attached and would sit with me as I petted her and all of that. She didn't like living at the Bat's house because of fleas but when she and I finally moved to our own place, she was right as rain.

Then Johan died. I was, as we all know, an utter mess what with the weeping and carrying on. But there was a change in Bubbles as well. I'd sit in my chair at my computer as usual and suddenly she'd come up and paw at me and meow so that I'd pet her. I thought, foolishly, that she felt bad because she knew I missed my piggie. What I only realize now is that SHE missed him. Bubbles has gotten needier and needier since Johan's death and I've been growing more and more anxious about her. I'd considered the loneliness and asked the vet about getting a kitten only to be told that if I were to do so, I should get two kittens so Bubbles could watch them interact and they wouldn't bug her. Well, my apartment is 535 square feet, not enough for two cats let alone three and Bubs doesn't seem to get along with other cats anyway so I nixed that.

But she isn't happy. When I am home, she tries to lay on me in any way possible these days. It's gone from just bugging me to pet her to sitting on me in even the most uncomfortable seeming positions possible just so she is near me. She gets tired of my knitting and will purposely lay on the yarn. She just needs to be all up on me at all times unless I physically move her.

I've realized that she is unhappy and, more than likely, lonely. I could get another guinea pig for company but seeing as I wept for three hours when Johan died, I don't know that I could put myself through that. And I most certainly do not want to put this animal on Prozac. I spoke with someone today who fosters animals in her area and she told me that sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you are really just fostering an animal until they can find their proper family. She told me about her experiences and, in the end, the idea of rehoming Bubbles felt a bit less awful.

I may do it.

I've been thinking about it all evening and I've literally cried like a baby at the idea. I love this cat and I don't want her to think I don't. But she clearly isn't happy here and so I may need to part with her. I hate that idea. I hate it because I love her and feel like such a failure and so guilty for not being able to provide her with what she needs. I feel guilty every time I go to the country. I don't bring her along because she doesn't enjoy it but I feel bad for leaving her behind. I feel guilty when I spend the night at the Bat Cave. But at the same time, I do feel I deserve to be allowed to live my life. I did consider, for about two minutes, getting another guinea pig to keep her company but then I remembered the hell that was losing Johan and remembered that I do not enjoy weeping for hours and being a wreck for days.

So this person is going to give me some resources so that I can look into this idea. I don't know if I have it in me to do it, but I do want Bubbles to be happy and healthy and if that is not something I can do, I have to let her go.

I will keep you informed should this happen. 

A Tale of Two Evenings

Tuesday Evening
After returning to the office after a very long weekend, I pretty much spent the work day trying to find busy work because I've got nothing on at the moment. But I powered through where I could and actually left the office at lunch in order to grab a few groceries (thus avoiding after work chores) and a sandwich. My friend, Tig, accompanied me so it was more enjoyable than a solitary outing. So an unremarkable morning and afternoon, really.

But the evening was so, so lovely! I watched a couple episodes of Midsomer Murders whilst knitting a scarf (which I actually finished). I took a deliciously hot bath and lit candles and made it very relaxing and all of that. I also read a murder mystery that seemed just perfect for my mood. Afterwards, I turned out the lights and snuggled up on my sofa with a brandy and watched the first half of the final Poirot, The Curtain. I know that doesn't sound all that exciting or noteworthy to pretty much anybody but it was perfect for me and I felt extremely content. I thought about how wonderful my life is - even if my life is not perfect of grand - and almost sent the Bat a message thanking him for being part of it. I didn't, however, as that could have been read as a goodbye text from a suicidal individual. I just waited to tell him the next day.

Wednesday Evening
Yo, I have no idea what was going on with Wednesday. The Bat sent me a message that I read as "I want to come over for dinner and I can also load you up with firewood." That sounded fine to me for our date night, so I just messaged back asking him to pick up some beer. It wasn't until about 5 pm that I looked at my phone and realized that the message was actually "If you want to come for dinner I can load you up with firewood." I politely declined and was a bit miffed because I went to his house almost every single day last week and I honestly don't think it is too much to ask for him to spend one evening at my place. This is a bone of contention between us and I don't know that we'll ever resolve the issue.

But I persevered and decided to make myself some dinner. Do you know those bags of pasta you can get from the freezer section of the grocery store? I bought three of those some time ago and they've just been sitting there. So I took out a margharitta penne one and slapped it into a pan. There was quite a bit of frost on it so I didn't have high hopes, which was good because the meal was pretty terrible and I ended up just eating the noodles. Even clean up was a pain because the cheese appeared to have been made of glue that stuck to the pan and the bowl regardless of the fact that I'd thrown them both in the sink with hot water and soap immediately after using them.

At least my hunger was curbed, I thought. I knew I had to take a shower and wash my hair, which I wasn't looking forward to, so I forced myself to just get it over with. Every now and again, I don't have hot water in the bathroom. Last night was one of those times and I took an absolutely frigid shower. I texted the Bat and told him between my shitty dinner and frozen shower, I appeared to be playing the part of a Dickensian orphan. Only this orphan has Netflix so I settled in to watch more mysteries and continue working on this massive scarf I was trying for Monkey. Guess what? The scarf was a wash because it just did not turn out right. I'm out of yarn at the moment (I can unravel the monster scarf but I'm not a fan of the color) and I am also, sadly, out of firewood because, despite promises made to me for months, I've not have any wood supplied to me.

My evening was so comically awful that I couldn't even be mad or sad about it. I just stood on the outside of it thinking "wow. What French farce is this?"

The Point
There really isn't much a point. I just wanted to show the juxtaposition of my evenings because they were so polar opposite from one another that it makes me giggle. Maybe I'm in for a middle of the road evening tonight?

First Post of The New Year... and It's a Stinker

I just spent a good 20 minutes reading an interview with Paris Hilton. That should tell you how slow a work day this is. And I've been out of the office for dayssss so you'd think I'd have plenty to do now. But nope and le sigh, things are quiet and I don't have anything on my plate at the moment so I've been forced to look for other means of occupation (I asked my boss if she had anything but she's in meetings). Apparently our Paris is much smarter than anyone thinks and she crafted the whole mean girl dumb blond persona when she signed up for the Simple Life. I'll give her credit for her longevity because she is still churning out products and opening stores and being featured in magazines. Girl works every hour of the day apparently. She also loves animals and does a lot of charity work without making sure everyone knows about it (I'm looking at you, Taylor Swift).

That is way too many words to have spent on Paris Hilton. Moving on.

Happy Holidays and New Year and all of that!! Whoo hoo!! 2016. Holla!!  <--- My holidays were far, far more chill than that. Monkey got a bow and I enjoyed it so much that I bought myself one this past week. Shooting it is so much fun but I need a lot of practice if only so that my body doesn't ache tremendously after each session. I've left it at the farm because I don't foresee myself using it any time soon, even if the Bat said he could set some stuff up in his yard. Honestly, I need to stay in at my place this week, give poor Bubbles the attention she seems to want/need.

I did make it up to midnight on NYE, and I am proud of myself for that. I went to bed immediately after. The Bat wasn't feeling well so he spent the evening reading on his sofa, covered in a blanket. This means I got to watch programs I enjoy on the television as I worked on a scarf I'm knitting for his dad. I was enjoying a couple of episodes of Midsomer Murders when I received a notification that I had an email. That email informed me that a new season of Poirot is available and I all but shrieked with glee. I love those movies/shows!!! I've watched them all numerous times (save for this latest season) and I just really, really enjoy them. They drive the Bat crazy, however, which is why I generally watch my programs at home. He got me back by having it be all Game of Thrones all the time come Saturday (I'd bought him the first season as a Christmas gift and he and his parents liked it so much they signed up for HBO streaming so they can watch the other seasons as well).

One of the episodes in this season (which I am assuming is the last, unfortunately) is The Curtain, which is the very last Poirot book and the one that features his death (fun fact: Hercule Poirot was the first [possibly only] ficitional character whose death warranted an actual obituatry in newspapers). I'm really looking forward to it and I thought last night would be the night where I sat, lights off in my living room, a nice glass of brandy and perhaps my cat by my side. But it just didn't feel right so perhaps tonight is the night? The Bat is stopping by to pick up his keys (I took Monkey to the mall yetserday to exchange the shoes I'd gotten her as they were half a size too big and she left the keys in my car) but I doubt he'll stay long. He may even be in and out before I get home so we shall see. I have a lot of work to do on a different scarf so it may just be more Midsomer Murders and beer and that would be fine.

I'm so, so boring, aren't I? Something I'm greatly looking forward to is watching an episode of Poirot, alone with my cat. But it just sounds like Heavan to me. That and reading but I'm between books at the moment.

Happy 2016! I hope this year is delightful for everyone (save for terrorists and abusers, etc).

All You Need is Love.. and Ammunition

Did you know that Eva Braun tried to commit suicide twice? This was well before she chowed down on some cyanide alongside her hero, Adolph. The first time, she shot herself in the chest with her father’s pistol and historians believe she did so in a bid for attention from the fuhrer of her fancy. Think about that for a moment. This chick, who was twenty at the time, had a lady boner for a guy and in order to impress him, she fucking shot herself. In the chest. I clearly need to step up my game if I want to keep the Bat interested in me because everything in comparison to Braun seems like phoning it in. I mean, what do you do when you want your man’s attention or feel neglected? Talking to the Bat is small beer compared to Braun, as is, you know, subtly rubbing his manly downunder. Then again, as much as I like the Bat and think he is the bee’s knees, I’m not going to deliberately give myself a papercut let alone a gunshot wound in order to turn his head.

Of course, I would never refer to him as being an atrocious monster* of the lowest form either, showcasing yet another difference between me and das hausfrau.

The above is brought to you by a slow work day. Have I mentioned before that if IT ever digs into my browser history I’ll look like a maniac? When things are slow and I don’t have anything to do, I end up googling the most random shit and learning about all sorts of things. The other day I googled “what is the difference between one humped camels and two humped camels?” I’ll also just do a query about random trivia (I now know that penguins have knees and elephants are the only mammals that cannot jump) or celebrity gossip or something character building like that. Usually, however, it’s a search for the keywords “mysterious disappearances” which leads to me jumping down a rabbit hole about a singular disappearance, which, in turn, often has me googling for information about suspects involved in either the disappearance or possibly linked murder. So, basically, my search history is about animals, celebrities, and kidnappings/disappearances/murders/murders. And “Eva Braun suicide” thanks to today’s reading of book review.

-------------v----------v-------------

u

I wanted to see if I’d talked about my google history in a separate post recently so I went back and skimmed the last few entries. Remember how it seemed like I never saw my boyfriend anymore because the kiddo didn’t have her license yet? That feels like it was ages ago when really, it was like that until mid-late October. Now we see each other so often that we occasionally upset the other with careless statements. This weekend, the Bat made a reference that was essentially comparing me with his exes as though we were all on a level playing field with one another. Needless to say, I was insulted. Also this weekend, I was teasing the Bat about how he is the poster child for boys being made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails because he is so gross. I obviously went too far because the next evening, he sort of apologized for being so gross and so I guess thought I’d meant it.

What I'm getting at is that we spend enough time together that we become jerks to each other. In fact, I was surprised when he invited me to go out for a drink this past Sunday because I couldn’t believe he’d want to spend more time with me. Not that I’m not rad as hell and everything, just that maybe he felt a bit of Simply overload. Nice to know I was wrong. Also nice to know that we still get along really well and our relationship hasn’t disintegrated into some hellish nightmare or anything.

Go team!

*Eva wouldn’t have used those words about her boyfriend/40 hour husband; there is a lot of evidence that she was completely unaware of all of the horrors Hitler created because she was kept in the dark and lived a very isolated life. That being said, she still had terrible, terrible taste.

Still Here. Still Boring.

I have nothing to write about, that is why I haven't updated this blog in awhile.

The Monkey was in a car accident in which her truck flipped but she is OK, just a bit battered and annoyed that the process of replacing her truck is taking so long (she wasn't at fault). She bounced back pretty quickly, save for her aches and pains, and went from being shook up to enjoying the attention and just being really annoyed at the inconvenience. Say what you will about teenagers but they can be really resilient. It happened on the 8th and I've never been more scared in my life. I actually left work but decided to go home rather than the hospital because I figured the last thing Monkey needed was for me to be there crying and losing my shit. She apologized for messing up my birthday, which was nice of her but really, I had zero fucks to give about my damned birthday at that point.

The Bat's parents are finally selling their old home so he and I may get paid a bit for all the work we've done on the farm but we may not and that's fine. At very least we should get to do more renovation work since there will be money to redo the kitchen and bathrooms. We haven't really done a lot of work lately although the Bat has helped with some of the outdoor stuff and we were able to move in furniture this past weekend (the floors were redone and baseboards installed). The Bat hurt his back last weekend and moving the furniture didn't help so he and his daughter are both achey moving around like old people every so often. Makes me feel like a hot young thing.

Work is work. I still enjoy it and I find moments where I can see my growth and improvement. But work is boring to write about and nobody wants to read about it.

I turned 35 and, aside from the Monkey adding 17 years to my life and scaring the hell out of me, I had a great day. My friend Tig brought me treats at work and the Bat and I had dinner with friends of ours. My mother gave me some lovely gifts and the Bat gave me a "luxurious bath pillow" and a bathtub tray complete with glass and candle holder so I feel like a god damn queen when I take baths now. I have yet to actually light a tapered candle but I've drank wine and read books like a champ. It was an extremely thoughtful gift because the Bat knows I love taking baths and just soaking like a lazy bones.

I'm actually doing Christmas this year. I'm not thrilled about it but whatever. We are going to go to the farm and so I figured I may as well be a team player. I bought presents for the Bat, Monkey, and the Bat's mother (he's buying for his dad) and we'll most likely go down in the early afternoon of Christmas day since Monkey works Thursday evening (it's her first day back to work since her accident).

See, boring? I've decided that I'm going to try and eat healthier. I, like so many other people, try this from time to time and then say fuck it and go back to pizza and cookies. I'm not doing any special diet or anything, but I'm going to try this kale smoothie recipe I found that doesn't require banana in order to up my fruits and vegetables game a bit. And I'm just going to try to make better choices. I finally started doing yoga again so it seems as good a time as any to throw some kale smoothies into the mix, you know?

So there you have it. I haven't written a post in over a month and after all that waiting, all you get is shit. You're welcome.

Conversation of Awesomeness - Probably Only I Find it Funny Edition

That Escalated Quickly
ME: Pick a day next week. I can go to downtown Garland if it helps.

SPECTARO: I was thinking about you earlier today. I have been so neglectful, but I have also been SO tired. Downtown does help, at least occasionally. I miss you. Good news is this is my last semester for my masters. Bad news is, I suck at not working my ass off for kids who deserve someone who does. You are a much better wife than I. I must try harder to be a better wife to my husband.

ME: You haven't been any more negligent than I. Work has just been kicking my butt and I've been working evenings and weekends. But I didn't want to go too many weeks again. And I basically live in Garland so no big deal to go downtown. Those kids are lucky to have you. If you've been giving less than 100% it is still 200% more than they are used to. Beating yourself up helps no one. If you become complacent I'll beat you up (smiley face). Never too late to be sweet to your husband.

SPECTARO: I think I love you most because you would kick my ass. Also, sweet was always about sex... he needs less and I don't know how to adapt to that.

I sometimes wonder how many people have given them 100%. I listened to a child (as I had students build DNA from fancy k'nex kit I bought) say repeatedly "I don't know how to play with toys" and then I considered that reality.

ME: You love me because you can tell me to get over myself and I won't get upset and I'll keep you straight too. Maybe HUSBAND doesn't know how to play with toys either. Think in terms of peoples' experiences. Listen to HUSBAND and what he needsd and try more of that. Or take a lover, I don't know.

SPECTARO: HUSBAND appears to need more sleep. I can't fix that. Also, I am WAY too tired to take a lover :)

ME: Oh, in that case, make HUSBAND drink more or drug him. Seriously, I'm going to start charging you for this shit.\

SPECTARO: lol, you probably should. He won't drink more. Need more information about drugging him... roofies? Viagra? Not sure what product or where to obtain such... although the gas station near you would be my first stop.

ME: Making people drink more or drug them is my go to like Dear Abby suggests counceling or "speak to a priest". Get a prescription for ambien or I can get some flexeril from Bat. And now we have officially have digital correspondence that sounds like the start of a murder plot. See you on Dateline bitch.

SPECTARO: We are so beyond ambien. We are at tramazodone and its cousins. And dateline it is!

ME: Bat has pain killers as well. And all kinds of rope. His ball gags have holes so you're on your own there. Wait, we were talking about what again? School fundraisers, right?

SPECTARO: Absolutely. And gardening.

ME: I was knitting earlier so that fits. The chair is against the wall. The. Chair. Is Against. The Wall.

SPECTARO: The rooster has flown the coop. Flown. The. Coop.

ME: Fuck! You never said anything about guns!! WHO HAVE YOU BROUGHT INTO THIS?!?!?!?!?
SPECTARO: Why do I feel unsure about whether to google rooster, flown, or coop first?