my boobs

the rash has all but disappeared from my arms, thighs and elsewhere.

and has relocated to my face and boobs.

yeah. I'm slamming hot.

*gags*

they're giving him a girl

she moves in monday.

seat five feet from his.

he's scheduled for an hour to go over supplies, show her around and introduce her to the "oqui-goodies".

she gets to spend 8 hours a day observing his creative process. she doesn't have a penis.

I....do not think I like this.

I quit.

that's right, folks. I give up. for the next oh....I'm guessing about 18 or 19 hours...

I give up.

I bought a can of diet coke and broke open the bottle of vanilla vodka.
I had a bowl of shephard's pie and two handfuls of chocolate chips.
I had a peppermint patty...and I'm contemplating the purchase of another.

my body...is no longer my own. I'm turning it over to the forces of Stolichnya and York Peppermint patties.



today...has been weird. as. fucking. shit.

signs



I met Oqui at a cutesy little park for lunch today to cheer him up (being that my uber bitchy moon induced mood wore off on him). we ate sammiches. fed ducks. chased squirrels...or at least WANTED to chase them...motivation lacking, we just kinda made faces and weird noises. we toured the caboose (pics for sale). visited the chocolate factory...and discussed climbing and riding.

it went a little something like this:
me: I don't think I want to climb or ride for a while.
him: hmm...why don't you want to?
me: its not that I don't want to...its...just that I...don't want to.
him: well, you have to do something. I guess we'll hike.

the discussion continued to include some speculation as to why I "don't want" to ride or climb. there's the "my body is just telling me not to" theory...there's the "it's just too hot" theory. there's the "I'm lazy. leave me alone" theory...there's the "I overtrained and it was bad for me" hypothesis...so on and so forth. yada yada blase blah.



then...we turned the corner.
him: you see that?
me: nope.
him: (pointing to HUGE RED LETTERED SIGN) that.
me: oh. "do not climb," eh?
him: is that a sign or what?
me: yup. it's a sign alright.
him: no (dumbass)....a sign.
me: oh. oh, my god! well, I guess that answers that.



roger that, universe. no climbing for a suki.

but...why, I ask? I don't want to sound ungrateful, oh great undeniable forces of the cosmos...but can I maybe get an explanation? is it his finger? am I going to fall? is it bees? you know I hate the fucking bees...

what is it?

so, while I've accepted my gut feeling (and the red lettered sign from above) and won't be planning any climbing for a bit...

I'm still stuck with the why's of things.

and speaking of things...



I came home to one of these today:

I guess that means that once I shake off the hangover I'm undoubtedly going to give myself...it's go time for my currently unemployed ass.

cleaning. showings. money. job. moving. (bed chewing) dogs.

but...that is all for tomorrow's planning and acting.

tonight...it's just me, diet coke (<---poison. I'm trying to poison myself), and a bottle of fermented something or other.

some people...

I'm sitting in the surgicenter waiting room. brought a friend for an out-patient procedure.


being a good girl. honest (that's why the nurse gave me chocolate).


so why is it that the SECOND I stepped off the elevator two women in the waiting room commenced to snicker, giggle, talk smack and otherwise try to intimidate me?


a. its not happening. I'm tougher than I look, heffas.
b. how miserable/bored/insecure/just plain full of hate must you be to instantly jump all over someone for sport, ya jackasses?

I had to reign in my emotional reaction QUICKLY...because I was about to hand my purse to my girlfriend and start swinging on these rude ass bitches...but the softer side of suki stepped in and said, "relax. they don't know any better. remember...these could very well be the girls you want to teach."

so I changed 'tac and decided to NOT let them affect me at all. I failed miserably at that effort, however. they DID affect me.

I turned their negative energy into my most positive flirty possible self and started working the room. I made nice with the nurses, other patients, people bored off their asses waiting for loved ones...anyone and everyone ('cept for the slant faced mean bitches) got a dose of suki sunshine.

I guess eventually they felt a little left out. one of them tried to make eye contact and smile at me. I'm not gonna lie...my first thought was to either roll my eyes at her or just plain ignore her....but I decided against it and flashed her a grin.

I didn't wait around long enough to see if she smiled back...mainly because if she had the audacity at that point to give me a mean face...I'm not sure that I would've been able to remain civil. it was that kind of day for me.

I hope I modeled some decent behavior for them at least.

because if I didn't...it would've been much more satisfying to actually slap one of them. that 10 or 15 minutes of charm was about all I had in me today, though.

my. day. sucked. ass.

let me rephrase that...my attitude about and during my day sucked ass. it wasn't so much what happened as how I reacted to it. I was stressed, spazzed, teary-eyed and impatient.

I hate that. I tried breathing exercises. I tried to meditate. I tried to vent. I tried to identify the cause of my anxiety...only to find out that three dozen different things popped into my overly-busy little brain. I tried everything I could think of to relax...the only thing that finally did it was a nice long walk with the dogs probably because I had just exhausted my energy reserve.

the consequence of my four hour long spazz attack...I'm totally spent.

I'm going to go for a road ride (yicky, yicky, poo poo) just to make sure I spin out the rest of the baddies...and then I'm having a drink.

I don't like feeling this way, particularly after having such a productive day yesterday.



I wonder what its like to be stable???

I'd like to suki size that, please.

today...was a good day.

it started out...not so good (fight with the hub. found out I can't sub for two or three months waiting for a shitey clearance. realized I have ZERO dollars to my name. had to come to terms with giving up the house...and discovered my "poisonous" rash had spread to cover 40% o' me body).

an overly caffeinated mug o' fresh goodness (earl green, I love you) later...and it was all uphill from there.

today I:

-called ginger about a job
-called krystal about several jobs
-called jocelyn about a job
-found 18 (count 'em...18 jobs I can apply for. one of which (parenting program for homeless moms) I even want)
-found my state and child abuse clearances
-registered with the state for an fbi clearance (or at least I THINK I did. their system sucks)
-cleaned the whole house (notice I say "cleaned" and not "organized" there is still a boatload to be done to sell this biznitch)
-got the listing contract
-weeded the yard
-walked the dogs
-verified with my doc that I do, indeed, have poison and not a syphilitic rash (who was worried? a rash on my crotch from peeing in the woods (or was it a public toilet seat to blame?) I wasn't worried...)
-made dinner
-baked muffins (how is NOT a good day when there is baking involved)
-visited my grandparents and dropped the bomb. my grandmother's response was "do you have a man? that'll make it easier. is it that guy I saw? good. he's really hot." go grandma.
-did NOT continue fighting with my mother
-spent some quality time with the kid and the mutts (I heart the afterschool gossip hour over cut apples and soy milk)
-folded some laundry
-and listened to n'sync b/c it was the only cd left in the house

minus the n'sync...the latter part of my day was probably one of the most satisfying, productive few hours I've experienced in months.

I love summer for what it is...lazy days. lots of travel. late nights. freedom, freedom and more freedom...

but I love the school year for the structure, family dinners, pumpkin baked goods and focus it brings me.

I usually suck at transitions. at the beginning of every other school year I always spent a week with a bottle of vodka mourning the loss of the company the kid provided all day long. now she's so independant that I saw her for breakfast, a late lunch and SOMETIMES dinner for the last 10 weeks. the hourly phone calls (mom, I'm at julie's. mom, I'm still at julie's. mom, we're having some cereal...and we're still at julie's) were nice...

but having her come home after school and actually SIT DOWN at the table with me...

now that shit is priceless.

once again

I've deleted an entire angrily written post.

I will sum it up, however:

-I called my mother's husband a bunch of names
-used the word "fuck" alot
-reiterated the screaming match with her last night
-told them both to kiss my ass


then decided it was too much. went too far...

and deleted it.

since I'm still a little bit saucy and very much hurt...

I will allow myself just this one jab, however:

your mommas.

fyi

if you wear a size 2 or 4...

don't bother going to goodwill for pants.


I bought them all.

ALL OF THEM.

tired.

on my feet for the last two days working.

waking up before the sun...

first core workout in a lonnnnnnnng time.

eating shitty food.

ten hours in the car in two days.


I hurt.
I'm tired, but all is well.


'night, folks.

can I get a group photo, please?

last night I dreamt that I was living, again, in the house I grew up in. I was cooking. I was crying.

I was completely alone.

I had no friends to contact. No one nearby to bounce my voice and vibe off of. Not even a dog to wrestle with.

so alone.

I'm curious (now that I'm "awake") how much of those feelings are trully reminiscent of my childhood. might explain why I'm such an attention whoring spazz...

and how much of that was simply just a yicky dream.

last night I spent my first night with the kid since tuesday. first night back with the dogs since wednesday. haven't seen peggy, julie or any others for a week and I still haven't seen oqui.

on the rides to and from new hampshire I talked for hours. literally. six out of the eight or so hours was spent catching up on late phone calls. I wasn't alone on that ride.

I wasn't alone on that farm, either. it was the first trip where I realized...I didn't really NEED to stick with the group. I would've had tons of company on the farm...all of it calm and chill.

even the disgusting fucking pigs (I SERIOUSLY hate pigs, now).

there is no doubt in my mind that I need that type of communal environment from time to time. I think that may be why I'm so drawn to children...they share (emotionally, physically, spiritually) so much more readily than most adults (hippies not withstanding). I have to be part of a group.

I require almost constant attention and stimulation.

which reminds me...

I need to water my plants.

my apologies to Miss Strawberry Shortcake

for bunching her up in a ball and hiding her under the seat during my improptu nine hour "nap" on the way home from New Hampshire last night.

sacking out in the back of the wagon seemed plenty safe in the campground parking lot...

NOT so kosher in the Best Western lot in somewheres-ville Massachusetts (WAS it mass?).

I couldn't decide...in the open in the light? hidden in the dark? somewhere accessible to fend off would be do-no-gooders? or somewhere out of the path of potential random drunken miscrients?

while I was pretty sure that anyone stumbling upon my sleeping form in the back of the car wouldn't be able to discern gender through sleeping bag, hoodie and window tint (although how many men do you know that drive a faggity ass volvo wagon?)...

I was fairly certain that the pink blanket and recently removed bra would be a rather convincing hint or two...

so they got the shove.

what was supposed to have been a brief rest before continuing on my way ended up being a full out night's worth of sleep. I needed that.

after dealing (emotionally) with the not so subtle attack on my parenting...I decided a day late to head up to Rumney, anyway. the kid was already with her father...and quite happily so. after actually GETTING to rumney...I decided two days early that it was time to get my ass home.

two eight hour solo drives in 5 days' time.

not too shabby for a road wussy like myself.

the climbing was so-so. I felt tired the entire time...and EXTREMELY unballsy-like. I didn't lead a thing. I wasn't digging deep...and i was alright with that.

the company and hostel camping were AMAZING. the farm was spectacular. library, common areas, communal bonfires, HUGE festival saturday, yoga room, Will the Cat, a few disgusting and despicable nasty pigs (I'm not eating meat again, btw), Elsa the french intern "making bicycles" to the "secret swim place" and general cooperative and enlightened environment rocked my suki socks.

I gotta get the kid there.

it was also SOOOOOO refreshing to hang out with some of my old climbing friends, again. I've been oh-so caught up in other things, as of late...and it was nice to spend a huge chunk of time, not only alone on the road, but in posse around the back of the mini-van.

camp food rocks.

josh, drew, the t-rav, christine and a brand new friend monica made for spectacular company. made me feel cozy. made me have fun. made me feel young (I'm a spazz).

the bees, on the other hand...unrocked my socks considerably. it was cold. they were rammy and omnipresent and I didn't feel like dying an hour off of any civilized road because some ornery insect was a little peeved about the weather.

missing the kid, the oqui-pah, the dogs and even the hub were all compelling reasons to bring my ass home early...

but the bees took the cake. I went with my gut and hit the road at 10 at night.

12 hours later one of my climbing group was attacked by a nest and stung in the face and head a gazillion times.

I. left. just. in. time.

so I'm putting in a call to my doc for a 3rd epi-pen...and getting on the horn with an allergist to see if there are any other options for me. between biking and camping and climbing I spend ALOT of time far from medical care which makes for a lot of anxiety this time of year.

which...as you all can guess...

I don't exactly need any more of!

strike that. reverse it.

due to (what may have been, but probably wasn't) an off-handed comment about there being a discrepancy between what I SAY my committment to my daughter is...

and what it actually is.

I'm not going anywhere.





for a while.

going, going...gah.

heading out for a climbing trip this afternoon. 8 hours of driving each way. six nights of camping. 5 days of climbing. two days of working. ten days away.

no biking to speak of. not that there aren't trails a'plenty...I just can't fit my bike in the car and don't have a riding partner :(

I'll be trying out my new spiffalicious zephyr rope, putting a hurting on oqui's gear...and probably be ready to come home the whole dang time.

I love new hampshire. I just wish it were closer to home.

have a ball ladies and gents...and wish me good climbing vibes.

see ya in about ten days.

for teh sudzers.

pics.

you are right, sir...this place has been wholly devoid of visual stimuli.


behold! teh suki pics!!!

um...'scuse me. you ready?


beavs.

oh. so that's how you do that...

oh yeah...how badly do you think he's gonna hate me for posting this one?



I climb like poo. I climb like poo. I climb like-a-da poo.

yeah. my kid is cool

for my 30th birthday...

she took it back 25 years for me.

Strawberry Shortcake was my HOMEGIRL growing up. I had everything ever created with that lil heffa's face on it. shoes, clothes, dolls, toys, bedding, cards, food...

everything.

how fitting that my lil' monkey of a child has been squirreling away flea market, auction and backyard Strawberry Shortcake finds for my day o' death (aka. the birthday I refuse to have)?

I love this kid...and my super awesome Strawberry Shortcake salt and pepper shaker.

superficial thy name is suki

apologies for this blog totally sucking horse sac as of late.

I find that to stay positive I have to remain so close to the surface that I'm not actually sure its me I'm describing or something just outside of myself...

or I get to the core and show alot of ugly.

I've deleted a few. I'm started (and subsequently abandoned) a few dozen more.

I guess its just a rough ride I'm on now...and I guess I'm just a wee bit on the emotionally volatile side (<----holy understatement, batman). but, for those of you who really do like to know what's up in sukiville...I'll sum it up: -a few months ago...I was chugging along, married to a wonderful guy, who I really do love...but not sharing any interests with. I wasn't UNhappy, but I was at the point where I realized I probably wouldn't want to have children...and that scared me. I've ALWAYS wanted more children...
-enter oqui. an excellent friend and super close climbing partner. our time together was pure and innocent. we played. we bonded. we climbed.
-welcome to rumney. fourteen thousand people (and their dogs) pointed out the fact that he and I were in love. apparently they could see what we hadn't accepted...
-now to the emergency room. something about being so utterly vulnerable and scared brings clarity. I recognized AND accepted that I was in love with this man...and, paper gown and all...started making plans on how to proceed.
-enter the "d" word. I came home. I 'fessed up. "honey, I want you to know that I haven't slept with anyone, but if things keep going the way they are...I will" he agreed to divorce.

fast forward...
with the planning under way. the marriage winding down. the house waiting to be sold...oqui and I started making plans with each other.

planning where to live. kid. dogs. school district. money.

STRESS

we've had some rough times coming to terms with what all of that means (ie. we'll both need to work our asses off and curb spending like a mofo)...and, I can't lie...

it was almost too much to handle at times.

I found myself in a position where I was losing not only a marriage to an awesome guy...but what I thought my future was going to be, as well.

things were (/will be) rough.

my husband is handling this extremely well. I think he and I agreed that maybe we were supposed to just be really good friends and NOT husband and wife. despite the fact that I'm leaving him for another man...he's still got my back.

he's willing to help me get on my feet. he's willing to let me cry when things aren't going well.

he even went to get McDonalds.

(^ that's a good man, right there)

and this is completely unfair to him. its one thing to come clean...its another to rub the nose of a good man in dirty business.

so I'm doing my best to find a way to wrap things up...get out on my own (hah!)...and stop hurting those around me.

oh yeah...and I'm having a crisis b/c I turn 30 in HOURS...not even days at this point...mere hours.

while I feel younger than I have in years...

I still have to face the realization that I'm smart. capable. mature...

and only make 12 grand a year and cry when I have to go to work.



I think I'm going to need to dye my hair.

pink would look good on me, right?

left overs.

I'm about to go downstairs.

open up my fridge.

pull out the styrofoam "doggie bag".

most likely stand half in the fridge with the door open...


and put a hurting on last nights spare ribs.


wish me luck.


I'm going in.

void

I'm completely numb.

emotionally...I can hardly feel a thing. and when I do..its sad. physically, I feel the same way. driving home yesterday I lost the feeling in my hands and arms. there I was, driving along at a respectable (and legal) 57 miles an hour...staring at my hands in disbelief wondering:

how can my arms be hollow?

I guess its because the rest of me is, too.

this...this THING is just so horrible. falling. apart.

home. family. values. security. trust. love...all concepts I don't know if I can believe in anymore...


full circle.

I feel like I did 11 years ago. broken. confused. disappointed. scared. depressed...but different.

11 years ago I didn't have a choice. 11 years ago...I was left behind. 11 years ago I was on my way out of here. away from this town...everything ahead of me. 11 years ago I had HOPE.

now...I've fucked it all up. career. relationships. family.

and I'm left with nothing but a feeling of failure. hope, at this point would be an unrealistic fantasy. and I'm back. right back where I started...

and I created it all myself.

marriage killing monster.

faith destroying bitch.

again with the riding...

what am I? a mountain biker or some shit???

once again I found myself on a trail (at some undisclosed location that we were all forced to take a pill after the ride to forget about entirely) this weekend with a bunch of dudes WAY more skilled than I...

loving it.

mike was completely awesome. talked me through some streams (just go straight) over some tri-logs (they're built up on the other side. keep your body low to the bike and your momentum forward) and made my bike somewhat workable.

great teacher and guide. definitely wanna ride with him, again.

joel as usual, climbs like a goat and gives good pounds. he even gave me one or two "you go, girl"s when I kept pedaling past them at the rest points so I could lead for 14 or 15 seconds before someone (joel) was bearing down on me, again.

oqui took his shirt off. nuff said.

and matt, dearest boy...brought up the tail end of the pack and made me FOR ONCE not the slowest ass in the group.

I love you, Matt.

I fell like forty-three million times (I can now successfully pull off a two-handed-protect-my-face bounce off a tree without even leaving the seat of my bike) and rode two gears the whole time (not intentionally, mind you)...

for once, I finished up a ride feeling completely spent. wait...I was completely spent halfway through. tired and sloppy suki hits alot of trees, ya know.

the rest of the weekend involved a camping trip with the kid (boys. she and her friend spent the entire time with ninth grade boys. somebody please fucking shoot me, now) some drunken remembrance of college days (not mine, thankfully), running into a few climbing friends in a town not of my own, and some really excellent pine nut couscous.

and of course...monday hookie playing all around.

I swear not a soul on earth went to work today.

good times.

trail 12

let the record reflect that on Friday, August 3rd 2007 at 11:06am the Suki did utter:

NEVER. EVER. EVER. ever. LET ME RIDE WHILE I'M PMS'ING, AGAIN. ever.

If I cry on the way to the trail...not gonna be a good ride.
If the first thing I say when I get there is: I don't wanna...not gonna be a good ride.
If I have no strength and can't figure out why...not gonna be a good ride.
If I, quite literally, SNAP at my fellow riders (one of whom I've only just met) "Serious, guys. Don't try to be noble, here. JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME!!!"...not gonna be a good ride.

So I "did" trail 12. Holy technical kicking my ass all over the mountain scariest 20 minutes of my life so far.

I thought I had taken an over the handlebars fall before. NOPE. I did this time, though. I was so frazzled and frayed (and just straight up chicken shit) that I got my glove caught on my front brake (genius, I know), yanked it HARD to the left in panic trying to free it, saw the tree. saw the tree. saw the tree...

flew over the handlebars (still attached via the glove, mind you) and hit the tree with the leg.

you'd think at this point this fall is pretty much over.

nuh uh, suckas.

scraping the tree, as I did, apparently didn't do much to check my momentum...and I continued to sail through the air.

I finally (after what seemed like three or four years of falling) said to myself "you should just tuck and roll".

I tucked.

the roll part didn't really happen, however. it was a weeeeeee bit rocky...

so I kinda bounced.

I was heard from the bottom to have said "I'm getting my fucking ass kicked". I heard chuckles in return.

sadists. all of them.

finally the sheer adrenaline rush of being frightened for my life overcame the hormonal storm that was funking me up and I started to ride. I was breathing like a porn star and couldn't feel my legs...but I was pushing through it and it started to feel good.

then...my derailleur decided to add to the excitement and wouldn't let me shift...at all.

I'm not gonna lie here, folks. I kicked my bike.

I ended up convincing everyone but Oqui to abandon me (sorry guys. I hope you had a good loop) and just kinda lumbered through the trail back to the lot.

then it happened. back at the lot. sunset approaching. time to pack up...

I found my mojo.

NUTZ! it was too late to head up another trail and I had major adrenaline rush to burn off.

DOUBLE NUTZ!

we opted, instead for some sammiches. good thing, too. I crashed so hard I could barely lift my arms.

now I have a blood lust for that trail. I'm going to not only pedal to the top without crying...

I'm going to blaze DOWN that bitch without being a pansy, too.



I might even head for the tower next time, too.

interne(t)rds

so a bunch of low-life, no-life, basement dwelling 'tards decided to ass-rape me on-line.


they pillaged my blog. cracked my photobucket account. copied quotes from pretty much any forum I've ever been on. attacked my personal musings and photographs like a pack of rabid muskrats (I won't give them the pleasure of being equated to anything much more menacing)...

and did it all for sport.


hence...all of my picture links now GONE.

my blog going private for a day or two.

and my new favorite toy:

they claimed no malicious intent (kiss my ass, douchebags)...

other than WHAT???

ridiculing my innermost musings?

depriving me of my outlet?

hunting down my on-line associates and friends?

fuck you, losers. I don't live that way.

blog on, suki.

ps. now, I have your IP addresses. bitches.