turd on a grassy knoll

this was just too good to leave alone.

an email from Oqui:

"Give me three hours, to leave here, another half to drive home and twenty minutes to clean my backside...I just topped your poo feat of yesterday. I'm not sure the physics behind what just happened, there may have been a turd on a grassy knoll, or the force may have been strong enough to push my entire body upward, regardless, when I came to, there was poo on the mirror in front of the toilet two feet above my head.

It's times like these I wish I had a camera."

RIP Uncle Walter

Uncle Walter died quietly last week at the age of 98.

he was still driving at the age of 96. never had a girlfriend. never watched television. lived in the spring house (no heat, electricity, etc) most of his life, and ate a baked apple and potato every day (which he put on top of the coal stove in the morning).

he died with over a million dollars in assets.

convinced in the 50's to purchase a thousand dollars of BFGoodrich stock, which he never touched.

before his death, he had already been robbed of 300 grand (120 of which went to vegas with a nephew a few months ago...never to be seen again. the money, that is. the nephew came back with his tail between his legs and very likely some permanent organ damage).

after going through several untrustworthy nephews as executers of his estate...he was left with Emerson holding the bag.

Emerson, apparently, is a cold hearted bastard and is not arranging for a funeral. now, poor uncle walter's church friends have no way of paying their last respects. upon insistent pressure from family members, Emerson the cuntox relented and agreed to a graveside service. ie. what they give murderes and John Does.

my family is pissed...

and already fighting over money.

I'm just glad I'm entirely too far down the line to ever see a dime, so I can stay as disentangled as possible.

I'll be digging out some of my favorite pictures of Uncle Walter tonight...

and making copies for the people who seemed to actually care about him.


crotchety old coot that he was...

he always made me laugh.

Rest In Peace, Uncle Walter...

eventually, they'll stop fighting.

43 hours without food

while I vowed that two trips to the ER was my limit for the year...

december 28th begged to differ.


food poisoning.

sick as a dog. miserable. fit to be tied...

I wanted to die.

then they gave me drugs and fluids and I settled for 18 hours of harangued naps.

on the upside:
-the IV took on the 5th try at the 3rd site

-you can have as many doses of anti-emetics as you require (I had 8)

-there was a crazy guy with armed guards RIIIIGHT next door who insisted he was going to "get his homies and shoot you all...not in the leg. not in the arm...no, no, my friends. I'm going to shoot you all IN THE FACE! IN THE FACE! IN THE FACE!" He also implored them to "RELEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE HIM!" about 42 billion times

-the puking stopped

-diarrhea isn't as bad as puking (no matter how many pairs of panties you have to sacrifice in the process)

-apple juice agree(d) with me. I had 6 cups during my stay (no WONDER I got teh poopies)

-nobody else got sick

-I still had 3 more days of health insurance


so while I found myself hacking up stomach acid and seeing stars...at least I won't get a ten thousand dollar bill for them keeping me alive.


now, if you'll excuse me.

I'm going to nap.


ps. kim insists it wasn't her cookie dough...I'm not so sure.

it would seem...

that when not working, I have things to speak about other than the children.

ha. freaking. ha ha ha.

take that, you varmin!!!

Miss Suki has a life of her own!!!

hahahahahahahaha




...ummm. about that life of mine.

on second thought, it would also seem that when not with the children...I still talk about them.

nutz.

I just heard...

^ my favorite photo of her

Benazir Bhutto was assassinated in Pakistan.

She was one of the most well-spoken, beautiful and impressive women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting...and very much a symbol of feminine strength and grace for my daughter and I.

my mother fears the effects of a civil war in Pakistan, while I fear a world where female leaders are gunned down.

gunmen and suicide bombers murdered 20 people today...130 in a prior attack on her cavalcade.

deplorable.

while I'll agree that assasination is quite the effective political tool...if of course, one is interested in inspiring rioting, rebellion and retribution.

but didn't anyone tell these assholes...

it isn't nice to hit girls.

elected TWICE to office in a male dominated and domineering muslim society. deposed TWICE on charges of corruption. exiled. murdered.

I will mourn her loss, and pray (in my own way) that her assasination does not push an unstable region over the edge.


things like this...

make me rethink wanting to have children.

oh, hell. I almost forgot.

I also spent four hours in a beauty salon torture chair getting my hair did.

they biffed it.

they biffed it reeeal bad.

it was colored three times. toned twice. and highlighted twice.

it's STILL strawberry shortcake red (for my younger readers...(god, I HOPE I don't have any younger readers...) think Ginger spice).

my scalp was burned to oblivion and I now have dandruff flakes the size of fingernails.


all this...

and I got to spend a hundred bones on it.


I'll be making an appointment for corrective color as soon as my scalp heals (thank jehosephat I don't work until next week)...

then sending those bitches the bill.

I'd like to provide photographic evidence, but we've yet to replace the digital I lost in "the settlement"...and besides...

I'm not sure I'd post it anyway. I have a certain image to maintain here (bad ass internet potty mouth)...

and quite frankly, the strawberry shortcake, punky brewster, pippy longstockings look...

not nearly as badass as teh Suki.

so little time...

so many relatives.


it's been a busy week(ish). over the weekend Oqui and I finally got the tree, gutted the house, replaced the garbage disposal (more to follow on that. I'm sooo proud of him), shoved as many chairs as could possibly fit into this house, battoned the hatches and prepared for the storm that is my family.

we still...haven't decorated the tree.

and, more importantly (I think), nobody lost a finger.

Christmas Eve found forty of my closest and least obnoxious (ha. ha. ha.) relatives crammed into my house. total chaos. one aunt brought a lollipop tree...she's going to die for that. there were children shoved in corners, grannies shoved in closets. uncles crammed in boxes and wrapping paper everywhere.

it was glorious.

Oqui spent the majority of the evening in the kitchen grabbing random passing children and saying, "hey, kid! who are you?" in his best Bob imitation. good natured are these children, thusly noone got kicked in the shin. I spent the rest of the evening on lollipop patrol. stealing everyone I could find...including the one I found stuck to my couch.

again...good thing these kids are cool or I probably would've lost an eye, thieving their candy, as such.

it was a great time. the only thing I love more than the communion of family members...is the look on oqui's face whenever he sees a kid, a puppy, a favorite aunty and I banter or a gazillion people having fun and sharing laughs in our home.

I suppose it was even worth the bickering the pre-party prep provided (I almost killed him).

I further suppose it was even worth opening up our home again the next morning for Christmas breakfast.

yeah...we're gluttons for punishment.

so within 18 hours we entertained 60 people in this 1,700 sf house...and did so without any breakage. the kids went home happy, the adults went home in one piece...and the dogs were wonderfully well-behaved...impressing the entire clan.

so much so, in fact, that I didn't have to pay through the nose for the dog-walker because the pups' great-grandparents agreed to come over and let them out for our day-long journey to Oqui's mom's.

sorry wiggles wags and whiskers...granny's got this one. they came equipped with their own treats (how cute is that!?!?!?! they went out and bought treats for the mutts!!!), did my dishes and I'm willing to bet my grandfather rewired something while he was here. If I flip the basement light switch and hear helicopter blades...

rest assured my Grampa will get it.

it was nice to head down to oqui's mammy's where we did nothing but open gifts, eat and cuddle. heavy on all three, as a matter of fact.

bayl had a good christmas. she ran amuck with the blood relative spawn, got more than she needed (always does)...including not one but TWO I-homes (I'm thinking her dad and I probably should've coordinated a bit on that one)...and as usual, did it all with a social grace that still amazes me.

who raised this kid???

tonight will find the Matty-kins here for his pre-mexico send off. love this kid. love 'im...

and oqui and I liquored up, hopefully high as a kite on something (chocolate count?) and the fireplace roaring (insofar as a cheapy gas fireplace is capable of doing so).

tomorrow will probably find me, once again, alone in the house, lonely as can be, and missing the noise, clutter and clambor of a gazillion people around. today I've got an improptu trip to meet Kim (of cross racing infamy) planned. she says we won't hang all day.

I beg to differ. two women, one kitchen, both addicted to sweet things.

I'll be lucky to make it home in time to see Matty and Oqui passed out, spooning on the couch.


while I've been having a fantastic time...this holiday was not without its downs.

I had a good long cry over my lost sister. lost niece. the father I haven't spoken to in over a dozen years and the father oqui can hardly remember. I miss Kaiya. I miss Danette. I'm upset that I have another sister I've never met. I KNOW on an intellectual level that in a family this size...

you're bound to lose one or two...but I'm really not willing to accept that I have two sisters with a 10 mile radius...

neither of whom I have a relationship with.

this. will. be. fixed. even if the sister I grew up with continues to refuse to speak to any of us...I can always make right with my father (maybe) and gain access to the little sister I never knew. She's about my Monkey's age...maybe too old to ever really know and trust me as a sister...

but certainly not too old to establish a relationship with her same-age niece.

the cry Oqui and I had together over this...solicited by a cheesy christmas movie...
really solidified for us how important family is. we vowed to continue to raise bayl right...and make sure that any other peanuts we're fortunate enough to have feel the same love.

the pity is though, between us...we can't provide a single legitimate grandfather for them.

hope everyone had a fantastic holiday and continues to do so!!!!

Suki

ps.

for christmas we got:
-a Bongo board
-an extra bike tower for the car
-a new set of UBER NICE kitchen knives
-garbage disposal
-more gloves than we have hands
-down filled slip on booties (PERFECT for climbing) for me
-a new frying pan (to be used wisely)
-BEAUTIFUL hand-made artisan glass ornament
-welcome mat
-TP
-hats, scarves, mittens
-cookies, money, cards
-electric blanket, massage oils, hair towels, bath salts, heating pad
-quality time with too seldomly seen relatives.

woops.

the kids are watching a movie.

I forgot they were here.

I farted...

out loud.

haaaaaaahahahahaha

its a stinker.

snagged

I totally got caught reeming out the kids today.

I was ten minutes from freedom with this particular bunch when one of them casually mentioned that they're this bad all the time.

oh. no. they. didn't.

these kids habitually show up without pencils, homework, text books or a single solitary desire to learn.

so I let them have it. I tore into them about respect, responsibility, motivation, behavior (I called them babboons, I think), outlined in furious detail proper classroom etiquette, told them to prepare themselves for a 4 page essay on what they want to be when they grow up...

and how they intend to get there.

they were shell-shocked and dumbstruck.

apparently...

noone has ever expected ANYthing from them.


needless to say the VP was stationed directly outside of my door during the entire tyrade. I heard only this from her, "I know. I heard."

I adamantly defended my rant. they deserve nothing less than TO BE SHOWN that someone expects them to perform.

I think the vice principal agreed with me...

or maybe she just wasn't the one to tell me not to come back tomorrow.


either way...I got to yell. they got told off.

I win.

my god, I'm pissed.

health insurance - $600/mo

kids written up today - 4
goal for number of kids written up today - 10 (they let me down and behaved. pity)

patience level - -.78

I'm having an argh moment. more like an argh day. let's see if I can't climb it out tonight and avoid an entire argh week.

on second thought...I'm going to remain as argh'ed as I possible can, take it out on those closest to me, eventually scare my loved ones into a closet/basement/coma...

then have no reason to (live) continue worrying about the cost of health care coverage.


fuck you, grid.

I'm pushing forward plans to unplug...but since I'll be elbow deep in debt I'm thinking I'll have to assume a new identity to do so, lest the creditors knock down the door to my ramshackle shanty in attempts to force me to make good on my debts (sorry, missuh. I aint gots no money...but you can have some o' dis here moonshine, if'n you'd like)


who needs a social security number, anyway?

the better half of SukIo

t'would appear that my best friend since fourth grade has started a blog of her very own.



she's amazing.
beautiful.
talented.
succesful.
graceful.
brilliant.


all the things I used to/hoped to be.


My Girl Io


this girl and my relationship with her is responsible for at least 80% of who I am.


I'll be guest blogging over there from time to time.


check her out.

but, unlike my blog...

no cussing (I've already been censored/censured, myself).

health room

I just went to the nurse.

I scored myself 2 ibuprofen, went potty and availed myself of their highly accurate, well calibrated, doctor's office scale.

yeah, I weigh 127 lbs.

127 and a HALF, actually.

jesus H. looks like its time to change my sub-title.

Rocking the Suburbs...

I'm all sorts of chubby.

talking to the 'nonny

project deadline + stressed, tired man = excellent time for "O" therapy

so we're having our usual pillow talk. going over the day, telling some funnies, venting about ree ree's, et cetera...when he suddenly snatches at the drawstring on my comfy pants and says (not without a trace of insanity in his voice):

give it to me.

sure thang, cowboy. giddy up.

not more than a moment later...my pants thrown aside, his face rather decidedly shoved between my thighs I hear a mumbled and distorted, "I love you."

I'm not even going to pretend he wasn't talking directly to the nonny.



a moment or two after his love confessional to my hoo hoo I hear another mutter.

something having to do with salad tossing.


hmmm...well...ok. Thich Nhat Hahn and I just had a good 90 minute soaking, so I suppose now's as good a time as any.

at one point or another I'm pretty sure my hip was dislocated to allow for better access...

and I'm thinking he hyperventilated under the covers.

all good. I'm a team player. anything to keep this here relationship machine well oiled and running smoothly.

I WILL, however, draw the line the precise MOMENT he starts sharpening his pinky nail or reaches for a stapler.

chicken fricasee

cream of chicken soup.

8th grade today. murder. the smart ones were clever enough to take advantage of me...the, shall we say not-so-sharp, of the bunch were despairingly incapable.

bisquick.

quit the shelter. too loud. too overwhelming. too irreparable. caught in a moment of weakness. a phone call 15 minutes before I should've been there woke me up. "yeah, umm...I guess I've really just been trying to grow enough sack to tell you I never wanna come back again"

boneless skinless chicken breast.

tired. always tired. too excited to sleep? too lazy to finish things up during normal waking hours, then left to worry over them during the sleepy times?

milk.

exercise. I need it. 115 lbs is about what my right thigh weighs these days. pants getting tight. shirts starting to fit...for once. being referred to as "that gym chic with the ass" rattling my cage. is this me getting healthy??? or a bullet train to obesity?

oregano.

holidays. party of 40 my house christmas eve. breakfast for 15 the next morning. oqui's mother feeling shafted. my dogs dreading the inevitable two day crate stay while we go kiss her ass. dog walker on speed dial.

parsley.

I smell grape. I would looooove a piece of grape bubble yum.

salt.

the man hovering. home late from work. busting hump on a project...on minorly disappointed that I've stopped to blog.

pepper.

I fucking hate pepper.

garlic salt.

yoga. martial arts. moving meditation. I feel a return to training coming on...

chi.

the clockwork suki

random rambings from a (believe it or no) completely sober suki.

in fact, believe it or no, I'm sober pretty much all the time. I have a drink or half maybe twice a month??? or so. yet, I'm pretty certain I come across as soaked to the gills most of the time. I laughed my way through the punchline of a second grade joke to the principal yesterday...

all the while, aware that I looked drunk off my ass. amidst my joke ruining giggling fit, I think I even managed to choke out an "oh, no. now I look drunk" snort. I should lay off the chocolate.

the joke:

two sausages are sizzling in a frying pan.
one sausage looks over to the other and says, "whew. its getting hot in here!"
the second sausage looks back and says, "OH NO!!!! It's a talking sausage!!!"

^ had me cracking up for hours.

the kids didn't laugh...at least not at the joke. we stumbled upon it while I was reading them a book and I lost it. they eventually laughed...at me. the principal decided that just then was the perfect time to come in and check on me...

and was rewarded for his efforts by me slobbering all over myself.

^ the kids most certainly laughed at that, though.


then a bunch of other things happened. I wound up at home and eventually fed (even though the chinese food delivery man was high off his ass and showed up 72 minutes after I called) and plopped my sad sorry (and fat) ass into a hot bath.

then the suki began to think.

ruh roh.

I had some realizations and came to some conclusions. most of which I forget now that I've cried them out and slept on it, but I'll give you the skeletal picture.

WARNING: THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET RIDICULOUSLY PERSONAL IN HERE. NOT MY USUAL FLIPPANT, CAVALIER AND COMEDICALLY DRAMATIZED VERSION OF PERSONAL...I'M TOO TIRED FOR THAT.

THE REAL DEAL.

please sign here acknowledging that the suki will not be held liable for any and all reactions (emotional, physical, vomitous or otherwise) to the following blog entry.

x________________________


congratulations, welcome to my inner workings.

Chapter 1
I'm not pregnant.

He thought I was. He thought he knew the day. He'd sleep with his hand on my belly and wake with a smile...

but I'm not pregnant.

I let myself fantasize about it, because I thought "what the hell...he might be right," but I knew all along that I felt nothing. If I'd sneeze, he'd smile and rush over to comfort me. If I mentioned casually that I didn't feel well or was tired, he bent over backwards to accomodate. If I so much as sighed...he was at the ready with a massaging hand and a knowing look.

nope. not pregnant.

a few days after I was expecting auntie to breeze into town and ruin the party I decided to take a test...not knowing exactly how I felt about the whole thing. you know you're excited, but not so much that you're not ever-so-subtly crushed by disappointment...but you really don't KNOW how you actually feel...

that is until you both cry about it. it was negative. I could've bet a G on it. yet, here I am...6 days late...

and not pregnant.

torture. sheer unadulterated torture.

I've spent almost 12 years wanting on some level to feel the kick of a baby inside me, again. I even spent several of those years trying.

no dice.

now, that its definitely in our plan (we keep making jokes about our 18 month plan suddenly being a 9 or 10 month one)...I realize I'm shit scared.

what if I suddenly suck at being a mother? I've got a 12 year old that I have to willingly and excruciatingly extricate myself from...or her growing process over the next four years will kill me. as I see it...she has two options:

1. do absolutely nothing wrong and be the biggest ill-prepared, sheltered dork on the planet

or

2. fuck something up.

I can only hope that her character stays as strong as its been and she manages to LEARN from the fuck-ups and emerge (relatively) unscathed on the other side. she's a good kid.

a VERY good kid. she's made healthy, positive choices thus far...

always during the times when I didn't WANT to let her go (to the dance, pool, creek, friend's house, et cetera)...

but knew I had to.

her job, as I see it, for the next few years is to need me less and less. to become independant and leave me behind to go to college, find a career, begin a relationship, and visit me once a month if I'm lucky.

can I do that all, again? I'm older. different. perhaps less competant.

more importantly (and here's where I tend to turn on the tears)...what's my job when I stop being a mommy?

I posed this one to the Oq last night. I'm over-stimulated. very much so. my job is hard, but the rewards are stellar. I'm tired, stressed and pinging off the walls when I get home...

but I learn something every. single. day. usually a dozen or so things are added to my repertoire by the time I leave the classroom. I haven't felt that envigorated since I was 8 years old. but it tires me. I find myself wrapped in the comforter and in my pajamas before 4pm most days...

and I stay there.

I can't hack the kid's noises (she's entered her 'music is my life' phase), I can't stand the computer. all of the tv's in this house have since died quick and painless deaths when I cut the cable...and then pulled their cords. even the dogs tip-toe or get the hairy eyeball.

quiet. I require sooooo much quiet. can I chase a toddler around wearing earmuffs???

I actually thought last night, "ok. this is serious. I'm going to talk to him about birth control" because I don't trust myself to be able to handle it all, again. the one thing on the planet I've always felt like I was rocking at...being a mom...scared the bajeezus out of me last night.

He smiled knowingly at me as I cried. He told me I'd be amazing at it. he told me that my ease of parenting is one of the things he loves so much about me. he kissed my forehead and told me not to worry. he told me that things ARE difficult now. we're working our asses off. working towards a goal so that we can relax then.

it was all I needed to hear. I trust this man.

if he says we can do it. if he says he can do it.

if he says I can do it...



I can do it.

wwwwwwwwwwell, ok.

I just logged into myspace for the first time in a few weeks and got a VERY nasty hate e-mail from the ex's brother.

calling me an awful person. telling my bitch ass that he's glad his brother isn't with me anymore, to sell the house that his brother paid for...that I'm living in with my new guy...so that he doesn't HAVE TO come down here to get his brother's stuff.

then asking me if anyone really wanted him to come down here...

and daring me to fucking respond.

sooo....

I did.
(obviously)


I wished he and his family well...sincerely...and told him that I cried when I heard that his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and is going to lose her beautiful hair.

I wished them strength and calm in the months (years?) to come.

seriously, dude...relax.

you don't have to like me. I don't have to like you. and FORTUNATELY for everyone involved...

we never have to see each other again.


amen. good-night. hallelujah.

subtle...but oh-so effective

date: 12.06.07
location: R-Side Elementary
Grade: third
time: 30 seconds early


teachers are bitches.

I can't seem to pinpoint any particular reason, and I suppose it differs by case.

but, invariably - particularly in this school (perhaps b/c the principal is a worthless, ineffective, lazy sack of poorly dressed dog dung)...

teachers are petty, conniving, nit-picking CUNTS.

CUNTS I TELL YA

december's cunt o' da munf award goes to...


*drumroll, please*

the music teacher.

holy ba-fucking-humbug, douchebag.


I picked my kids up from lunch and had them lined quietly, patiently and (believe it or not) RESPECTFULLY (a rarity in these parts) outside of the music room.


apparently....30 seconds early.

I've never taken a class to music in this school before, so unaware of the procedure I peek my head around the corner to find (wait for it. its good)...


a green light sign and instructions reading:

COME ON IN!!!

Knock once and come inside.


ok. I gave it a pleasant little rap and opened 'er up...

to find the wicked witch of the muddy flapping west sneering at me with a "YOU'RE 30 SECONDS EARLY!!!!"

I kid you not. I almost slapped her.

actually, thats kinda a lie.

I really almost punched her.


I let it roll on off (because I'm not sure I can rustle up bail money) and very politely asked her what time I need to pick them up.

she told me 1:45.
then told me my clock is slow.



yeah...I'm going to get them at 1:48.

cunt.

I don't wanna

it's cold. I had a half day, today. 3rd grade. home early. kinda hungry...

and cold.

on my way home, a list of 43,926 things I need to accomplish formed in my beady little brain.

walk the dogs.
paint the bathroom.
hang the curtains.
visit grandparents.
visit other grandparents.
thank you note(s).
murder the dogs.
try out new pizza recipe.
make sense of the mess that is this house.
go for brave, bold, chilly solo ride.
bury the dogs.
climb tonight.
prepare for house meeting.
read.
read some more.
keep reading.
fold the laundry.
look for job (that doesn't suck).
take rock hard nipp'd nudies (did I mention its cold?).
water plants.
clean kitchen.
pay bills.
take bath.


et cetera.


then I got home. I picked up my book, got under the covers and realized...

other than reading...I don't wanna. not out of frustration, being overwhelmed, over-worked, over-tired or anything other than sheer laziness, but:

idonwannaidonwannaidonwannaidonwanna.

I'm gonna plant my slightly chilled self under a down (alternative) comforter for the next 4 or 5 hours...

and do absolutely, precisely, entirely...

nothing.


'cept for mebbe send the kid to the neighborhood store to fetch me some chocolate later.

we're feebs (ie. feeble minded folk)

and Oqui grew boobs


^ click it, bitches

6.67

hours of sleep is not sufficient.

I'm dying here, guys.

I need a mug of tea, a warm blanket, a quiet corner and 37 minutes.


then I need to get more than 6 1/2 hours of sleep tonight, as well.


can somebody tell me a bedtime story???