tuna girl

Little C left her backpack in her school locker for the week. I had put tuna and crackers in there. I told her to bring it home before she got an unfortunate nickname. Coley already started the nickname, and Little C is now "tuna." Of course, Little C tells Coley to stop it.

Geez. I must blog something truly interesting. Later...

yeah..that's it...

more excuses to put up pics and such...

or it could be that I have no life as of late...

Shoe Wap Shoe Wadda Wadda Yickety Boom She Boom

Thanks for the title Janet (Dammit)

I have nothing to post. Just an excuse to put up an amusing picture....

chicken cloaca

Doesn't that sound like some kind of recipe? Really? It isn't apparently...

Don't you hate it when you walk in on the middle of a conversation, and everything is out of context? I do...

So, I walked in on almost the entire staff of THE AGENCY sitting around the lunch table. The Director was pondering whether or not male chickens (roosters?) had weiners (yes...she said "weiner")...

I can only wonder how this topic arose over lunch...

anyway, I asked if it was a bit like the question as to whether or not chickens have lips...only different...andd she said yep....

Later I was in the administration entry area learning how to download data from my laptop, when the director yells from her office "I just Googled chicken cloaca!"

Ummm....ummm....I am not even sure what to say, or what that means....

help...

Nut Bitch with Curlers

Coley and her bro told a story the other night about how whenever they came home as kids and found their mom in curlers, it was a cue to leave quickly. Apparently mom wound them a little bit too tight, because they always made her in a bad, bad, mood. Coley said her mom was a "nut bitch in curlers." Maybe it's the beer talking, but that is a good name for a rock band.

I have a mediation appointment with Spam on the 29th. I'm sure that if I just admit that I am the spawn of satan, and agree to a frontal lobotomy, things will be fine. Wish me luck.

Coley has her training in Utah (my, what an open minded and diverse state...). If she comes back Mormon, I am definately going to have a complex. If that occurs, no one had EVER ring my doorbell again. I pity the poor UPS man.

Little C is asleep in her bed right next to me. As it should be. She had a hard day of being six.

I went to the home of the client who was described as a "pack rat." That is a bit mild. She can't get to her bathroom since things are piled so high. She can't stand up straight. She pulled out her urine pads to dry in the sun and then re-use. The smell of urine on her and around the house was overwhelming. We had to sit outside in order to do the assessment. She is just a sweetie, but in a bad way. We will do what we can to help, but as of now-this is her decision to make. She lives up on a mountain without running water...still has her faculties about her-but obviously a bit...different...makes me thankful...

Wow, bummer. I need to get the new Nut Bitch with Curlers CD. They rock.

Lambda lama ding dong

I contacted Lambda last week. They are considering my case. Apparently a same-sex child custody dispute in which one parent is observing a faith that teaches that the other parent is going to be destined for destruction (because they are gay) is of interest to them....even though they are busy suing states for marriage rights and sodomy laws and such...I can only hope that this national organization will back me in a custody motion...

Also...

Let my unfortunate necessity to search through screen after screen of banking transactions, and pile after pile of bank statements, and stomach churning after nauseating records of emails, be a lesson to you! No matter how unlikely you think it may be, keep a record of loans, make people sign things, keep stuff organized...

I should know this...my mom has detailed records from before SHE was even born...and she tried to tell me...

My ex, (known as Spam cause she is similar to a junk mail folder), is refusing to give me back the leftover money that I paid in advance for summer childcare. I gave her $1,250.00 in April, to pay for summer childcare through September. I did this since my teaching stipend at WSU stopped in June, and I wanted to be sure to have paid that and set it aside. It is now September, and the grand total of the bill (thanks to MY childcare assistance which I allowed to benefit her as well) is $83.00. Yes. That's right. $83.00.

She won't give me the balance back now. I have to go to small claims just to get it back. The purpose is clearly written on the check I gave her in April. I have emails between us discussing it. I am not utilizing childcare for our daughter this semester, and I need the balance back to pay for my other childcare arrangements (which accomodate my work schedule)...but she will not give it to me-and insists that she is going to continue to deduct the childcare that she is using from the balance.

We have exactly equal joint custody. Why is she expecting me to pay for her arrangements as well as mine, you ask?

Jehovah made her do it.

Keep records, folks. That is all I am saying. Sometimes people pop a spring, and need a bit of prompting to do what is right and fair...

sell me some swamp land

I'm trying some FREE online survey sites, after doing a bunch of investigating. I'll let you know if any of them are worth it...I dunno. I already filled out some free insurance quote thingies, and I am supposed to make about $7.00 for the hour it took me to do that. They pay you through PayPal. I am sure my spam mail will go up now...so I created my own email address just for this crap. Unfortunately they ask you for a phone number on the forms (nothing like your social security number or anything)...so I will now have insurance salesmen calling me. I will try to convert them to Jehovah's Witnesses when they call. "Do you sometimes wonder why a loving God would allow so much pain in the world? I would like to get your phone number so I can call you and talk to you about the Bible...I also sell Avon...and Amway..."

Have any of you tried such a thing (the surveys, or mystery shopper things)? Does anyone ever even read this blog? Geez. That would be kinda funny...guess it could be my own personal diary then. I could just sit back and amuse myself, as I do most days anyway.

COLEYCOLEYCOLEY

Coley said I did not mention her in the last blog, and that was unacceptable...

So, here...

Coley, Coley, Coley. Coley is mine. I love Coley. Coley is the grooviest, cooliester (that was for you MC Grand Mix Master Rowdy Fouty), mostest gorgeouser, smart like, good kisser, snappy dresser, excellent driver, spousal person in the whole wide world.

Isn't the picture of Coley and Little C just the cutest? Little C likes Coley a lot. She looks up at her with big eyes, gets kinda quiet, and puts her hand out for Coley to hold. That is enough overwhelming mushy love stuff to about drop me.

I Told You Never to Call Me on This Zucchini

I love my job! I work with the coolest people and the coolest clients! I work with the senior population, connecting them to the stuff they need to stay independent in their homes. It is an awesome feeling to be able to help people like that..and I have already heard some of the greatest stories! I have met WWII veterans, and a former circus performer (who described how to hang onto a trapeze with your toes), and a monk who lives out in the sticks with his 18 cats, 14 dogs, and a giant wooden cross on his door, and I can't wait to see who I meet next! Some of the clients are definately eccentric, but that just spices things up-as long as they don't shoot at me.

I had one phone conversation with a client that went something like this:

"Hi! Ernest (not his real name)? Can you hear me?"
"Huh?"
"I said can you hear me?"
"What?"
"Ernest, I'm with the local agency on aging. I need to come by to see you."
"Ok."
"Can we set up a time to do that?"
"Huh?"
"I SAID CAN WE SET UP A TIME?"
"ok."
"When would be a good time to come by?"
"ok."
"Umm...Ernest? I need to know a good time to come see you."
"huh?"
"A GOOD TIME...WHAT WOULD WORK FOR YOU?"
"I don't work."
"Could I come by today to see you?"
"ok."
"How about 3 O'clock?"
"ok."
"OK Ernest. I will see you at 3 O'clock."
"I don't work."
"I know Ernest...that's ok. I'll see you at 3."
"Who is this?"
"I'm with the Agency on Aging..."
"ok."
"Alright Ernest. I'll be by at 3."
"Huh?"
"I'LL BE BY AT 3...OK?"
"ok."
(silence)
"Are you my doctor?"


So, at 3 O'Clock I went to Ernest's house and he was not there. I drove back to the agency, only to be told that he had actualy driven all the way down there to meet me.

I felt like crap. He's, like, 90. But, I met him the next day when I just decided to drive there without calling first.

Anyway....

The people in the office are totally neat too. Yes, I said "neat." Shut up! What are you? The cool language police? Huh?

Anyway, we get off on these tangents (shocking, I know), and start talking about very strange things. Especially during lunch time. The gals bring in things from their gardens. One of them brought in some really big zucchini. You can just imagine. One of the zucchini reminded me of a phone, so I picked it up and started talking into it....at least I didn't do something x-rated...I mean, c'mon! It was a zucchini! It was the BIGGEST zucchini I had ever seen!

Huh? Are you my doctor?

I guess I am going tomorrow to meet a woman who has been a pack rat for her entire life, and we are going to have to do the interview OUTSIDE because you can't walk in her house...it is so full of stuff. Apparently not all of it is just memorabilia either. "This is my bread crust from 1947..." type of thing.

One of my co-workers said it is very likely that I will turn out to be an old lady who runs around her house yelling without any underwear. I told her her grandma was really a man.

Yep. We have fun!

All extremists must be killed...

Ironical, isn't it?

My friend has doth correctified me. Her name is MC GRAND Mix Master Rowdy Fouty. I stand corrected, as well as approximately 5'4" tall.

She sent me another contribution to the "I wish I had thought of that at the time" list. I'm glad she saves our emails, because it is quite obvious that I am brilliant, gifted, and again, 5'4' tall. Our memory moment (following an email where Grand Mix Master Routy Fouty was ONCE AGAIN upset at the whole men being men scenario) was like this:

I was also looking back at some previous e-mails we corresponded with and you wrote something about me hating men and some lesbian(s) getting a toaster oven and it went something like this:

"I am thinking at this rate (seeing as almost every message has the 'men are scum sucking, pond scuz sliding, shifty, egomaniacle, self-centered, hairy, sharp as marbles, lying, clueless, smell like damp ferrett, helpless to the one-eyed trouser snake, atavistic, bastard morons' theme), we lesbians will soon convert you, and we will all get a new toaster oven. Hooray!" (Jo Jo Bean, 2004)

Smell like damp ferret? I must have been drinking. I don't think I have ever smelled a damp ferret. I would remember that.

MC Grand Mix Master Routy Fouty (Holy Hell...I need a shorter nickname for her...)
likes to make up words. We discovered that you can add the suffix "inglyeristalville" to almost anything to lengthen a word. (No, you can't do that to lengthen body parts, Binks. Ha ha ha. Just kidding!) I was thinking of her today when I heard that Elvis song "A Little Less Conversation", which includes the lyric "ain't satisfactioning me." I think MC Grand Mix Master Routy Fouty enjoys that song. Now I truly understand why. The new name for the song is "A Little Less Conversationinglyeristalville." I have declared it to be so, and now it must be.

Goodnight! I'll be here all week.

Save the children

I am so glad I gave my blog address to my friends! I made Kelly snort! That alone is worth it!!! Kelly (from hertoforthwith known as Kee-wee) is my bestest buddy from Alaska. We went to high school together, and she was my best man-woman at my wedding. Her signature is forever on my wedding certificate as my witness...and she will forever not be able to escape my memories of our first sleep over where she laughed, started farting, laughed again, and farted even more all the way out of the room. OMG! That was something.

I don't know what. But SOMETHING.

I think she tried to blame it on a saltine cracker (don't ask me how she could blame it on a cracker...)

Anyway...

I have the greatest friends, and family, and partner, and little squirt, and kitties. I have no idea about spiritual stuff...but I really have tried to be a kind, and patient, and decent person. I don't always succeed...BUT...I seem to be a very fortunate...dare I say BLESSED person lately....not sure who to thank (I would like to thank the academy, and Chad Lowe, and James Cameron)...but I am so thankful...

Remember Anita Bryant and the Save the Children campaign? I digress, but...

Nurse Ratchet..it is so good to hear from you. And yes, Spam did turn out to be off the deep end. Jehovahdamnit! We must chat about this. Tell Zig I said Life Is a Highway! Death is a sobriety checkpoint! I have posted a picture of my daughter showing off a potato (potatoe if you are a dumb ass Republican) that she dug up in a friend's garden. "My, what a big potato you have..." That's my girl!

Squaw Broad Cox....you had better write soon. You are pissing me off. Don't make me come up there and open up a can of whoop ass (or a can of Red Bull....) Don't make me do a thing like I did that one time...you know...

My wifal person just did the most incredible thing, and I cried, and now I will wake up with big puffy eyes, and a stuffy nose...and and I need to remember these moments when after 20 years we want to kill each other for using the last square of toilet paper. OMG...is this what love was supposed to feel like for the past 20 years? Nothing has been close. I am such a goner...lucky I don't have to stalk her. Although she did lock me out of the car once in a mall parking lot and start yelling for the police. That was JUST GREAT.

A rose by any other name...

Coley got me a dozen roses today. I think I love her. The petals of the roses ended up scattered across our bed, and she lit a candle...and then lured me into the room with a story about our kitty having done something unmentionable in there...but it was rose petals and a candle. Yep. I definately love her. I think I should marry her. Oh yeah! I DID!!!!

My Coley. Mine.

Gorgeous, smart, funny, and even modest. She thinks she is "average" looking. Yeah...right....maybe if were all lived on the planet of six foot beautiful blonde models. She's a dork. I'm keeping her.

lesborama trauma

Hey! When is the "L WORD" starting?

So.....

I have this ex. She is crazy.

No, really.

Over the past few years I have watched her gradually transform from a relatively free thinking, happy, lusting after women, rainbow jewelry wearing, totally able to parallel park, typical pride marching lesbian- into a turtle neck, floor lengthskirt wearing, non-cussing, Kingdom Hall going, pagan ranting, non birthday celebrating, stepford wife type, psycho. Although she has never been a big critical thinker, and it is certainly her perogative to invite anyone into her home if they knock and want to offer their unique version of the truth about all things leading to salvation(thereby letting a select few in on the REAL deal)...MY EX AND I HAVE A LITTLE GIRL. I am quite, quite concerned that I am going to hear my gorgeous, smart, 6 year old her start spouting things about Jehovah, willfull and gracious submission to men, and the evil of Christmas trees, and generally obstaining from all things related to fun, or thinking for yourself....I am going to be some mad.

Our move to The Valley So Low is now indefinately postponed, for fear that if I leave my daughter in her clutches, Little C will end up like her other mother. I must not allow that to happen! So, joint custody it is! Hold on little C! I will save you!

Two headed cats

So, my spousal person spent who knows how long looking up websites about deformed kitties bacause our youngest kitty has some loose skin hanging from his belly. Not a whole lot...I mean...he doesn't dust our furniture when he walks on it. BUT, it is a bit flappy down there. Kinda cute in an endearing way....

So Coley wanted to know more...and found two headed cats, and pictures of cats with three ears, and bionic hearing, and unusually large teeth, and the ability to channel Barry Manilow...and such. You know...SPECIAL kitties. I was a bit concerned that she might be overly fixated on all things kitty in our home...but I think it is just effective parenting really. Be informed. We just have to face the fact that our little guy is unique. We sometimes refer to him as "Special K kitty"...a little cross eyed, perhaps a bit slow at times, and with enough loose skin to cleverly conceal our change in. Hmmm

I finally heard from my buddy MC Mix Master Rowdy Fouty. She and Coley's best buddy Binks are dating now. Our introduction apparently blossomed into something truly magical. (Insert gagging here...as MC Fouty would probably suggest...) I miss her, and we are going to make an appointment to get together, drink too many mind altering beverages, and then I will vomit in a bar as is my traditional MO. Yep, just the way I roll, baby. (Although sometimes I roll down the street, and then wonder why I have leaves and crap on me in the morning...) Good times. Good times.

"Hey MC Fouty! Did I climb a tree last night?"




This is Pullman, home to WSU. WAZZU-one of the top party schools in the nation. Bartenders are generally happy if you don't vomit directly ON them, apparently. I taught undergrads. Many of them showed up in pajamas to my classes. That was always fun. Some even slept through my inspired and brilliant lectures. That's ok. When that happened I would speak very quietly so as not to wake them. Because I am an idiot.

Coley did not believe me about our police blotter as reported in the student newspaper. A few choice entries this last week. Some guy called 911 because his cable went out. Fortunately the police responded and beat the crap out of him. OK...I made that up. Someone else called because there was a turtle in the road. I mean, a frickin turtle. "Help! Turtle! It is going to get me. I must alert others!"


Rant on, Rant on,

Happier than a two peckered billy goat...

I have no idea what that quote means, but it is a contribution from one of my new family members...(through marriage)...

Nope. She and that side of the family are not from Arkansas. Or Idaho.

But, MY father's side of the family IS from Arkansas (did Tennessee what Arkansas?)....and I STILL don't know what it means. Go Auntie Debbie. You rock!

Today I must include a portion of an past email written to a friend- a friend who had recently had her heart broken by a guy...

Hey JO JO,
Here is the quote you wrote about Roberto-assmunch. And I would like you to take note of the proper citation:

"He is a big festering pus filled lying goober headed squirrel hunting backwoods dopey moronic self idolizing clueless no chance of being no officer in need of penicillin bonehead dumb ass hairball" (Alias, 2003).

Why can't I think of these things in the heat of the moment? I always think of the perfect thing to say AFTER the fact. I would like to pelt my ex with a barrage of ingenious insults, but when in a heated exchange all I can think of is, "Oh yeah? I know you are but what am I?"

I'm sorta tired. I should probably sleep soon.

Did I mention that I am happier than a two peckered billy goat? It's a true story.

Hitched in the Last Frontier

Well, we did it. We are married. We did it in Alaska, and Coley was kind enough to give Alaska a fair chance. Actually, we had a very good time! Alyeska resort and the five-star restaurant on top of the mountain, our minister from Australia (G'day lesbians!), glaciers, fresh crab on the barbeque, beautiful mountains, fun bars, good friends, good beer (Moose Drool...mmm...)...we were even lucky enough to see a bear along the road on one of our excursions. And...we musn't foget the Dall Sheep along the highway to Girdwood. One time in passing we saw one of the sheep hanging out with the tourists-probably hoping for a Cheeze-It or something. Coley decided that his name (the sheep) was Brian, and he was playing with tourists. Toying with them, really.

I am very happy and very fortunate.