Friday, June 27, 2008

ocean failboat

my grand plan to escape suburbia (and all my responsibility) to dip my tootsers in the ocean was a major fail.

(honestly...I just didn't want to)


BUT, I did make it as far as the Beans Queen's Palace for seven strawberries, a crackle plant and some much needed venting, which poor dear colin, being present and possessing a penis, managed to bear the brunt of.

I got home around midnight to a furiously scrubbing o'pah...and graciously decided to allow him to live.

I love the guy, but I get the distinct impression his days are numbered.

if we ever decide to bear another child...

he's carrying it and I'M going riding.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

fuck you.

bail on me...leave me holding the bag.

serve your own selfish, stubborn, childish desire...

and I've got only one thing to say to you.

fuck you.

I'm going for a swim...



...in the atlantic.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

is it wrong?

that when a dude downtown checked me out today, then said to his friend, "man, I need me a girl like that!" I had to refrain from saying out loud: good luck with that?

that I spent money I don't have on things I don't need?

that I accidentally left the house (for 4 hours) with the front door wide open and the dogs uncrated?

that I convinced my neighbors not to find out the gender of their baby (I told them it was cheating)...and now opah and I have an appointment on the 9th to see the sprouts yunk?

that I haven't included one single source of protein in my diet today (and that I went 4 weeks without gaining any weight...and put on 3 pounds (of chocolate) last weekend)?

that there's work to be done...and I don't feel like doing it?

that I spent three hours on the phone today with a friend bashing (ex and current) sister-in-laws?

that I'm not looking for a job?

(did I mention that I don't feel like doing anything???)

that I mentioned in a conversation today "trust me. I know a thing or two about flings"?




yeah. it's wrong.



























.

Monday, June 23, 2008

speaking of fire

my smoke detectors just went off for twenty minutes.

when they started seaming the new carpet, the smoke detectors wigged out. when they opened the door to airing it set the whole shebang going...all the while I was oblivious to their doings because it happened at the precise moment I opened the balcony door.

needless to say, 2 phone calls and 20 minutes later it finally stopped.not because I figured out how to work the alarm system...

but because the installer pried the smoke detector off the wall with a screwdriver.

the dogs and I are wicked spazzed...and I introduced the baby to sprite.








I wanted it to be vodka.

we didn't start the fire

my mom did.


and although it was puny, we're all hoping it served its solstice purpose.


it was awesome to see this hot mamma, again...and one of the girls said as soon as she walked in, "You're pretty!" like she was shocked.


dude. I don't hang with orangutans and whatnot...teh suki's got an image to uphold (currently it's lazy, chubby and broke, so come to think of it...I can now understand the child's surprise).


so we sent the universe our wishes and exercised to a very (very) minor extent our inherent woman witchdom. the black cats kept their distance...they might remember us plucking a few furs for the fire during previous witching nights. in fact the children kept their distance most of the time, as well.


good. teenage girls are squeaky. one of them had an attitude that sucked harder than clay aiken, and one of them (mine) needed to lay off the sugar.


o'pah came down after a ride (and before a shower) against my mother's wishes. no men are allowed in her home whilst the fire is burning...but he wanted to meet kim and crashed the party.


I think my mother may have cursed him with a few warts.


its all good...I crop dusted her kitchen.


Thursday, June 19, 2008

mike and ike's

Caroline,

Yes!!!

of course I got your package...and ate half the candy immediately...then used the other half to bribe oqui and the kid to do some cleaning. loved, loved, loved all the cutie baby goodies.

in fact, loved them so much that we're going to schedule an ultrasound to see if this kid has a winker and we'll get to use them.

have I not thanked you yet for that??????????

if so...I'm a bad, bad suki.

very bad.

but, I'll make it up to ya...





by e-mailing you pictures of oqui's package.










.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

worst e-bay transaction ever (at least for me)

I won an auction a few weeks back for some maternity clothes. I e-mailed her right away, and a bunch of times after that...hesitant to send money until I got word from her. when I did...it was nasty.

sooo...as you can guess, I let the bitch know. I wouldn't give someone a fat fucking dime if they got sassy with me in person, yet this heffa ho slutty hussy got all kinds of pissy with me in an e-mail. I told her to cancel the transaction, refund the money and have a nice day. she responded with "I'll be shipping the package tomorrow".

that was over two weeks ago.

at this point its not only about the money (but seriously...150 of OUR dollars in some bitch's pocket with nothing to show for it DOES piss me off)...but the principle. I always vote with my dollar and despise the fact that I have no recourse in this situation. a local merchant would eat my foot if they provided this kind of customer service, not be cashing my check.

a few excerpts from our oh-so-pleasant-and-entertaining exchanges:


me to her (two weeks after sending her payment...and getting no word):

this is my second attempt to contact you regarding shipping date of this item.

have you shipped it? if so...when?

I am concerned that because you "don't do insurance" there may be difficulty tracking this package. I've received another package from Texas shipped several days after you said you would send this one...yet have not received yours.

If I do not hear from you within a day or so, I will be filing a dispute with e-bay.

from her to me:

FYI, like your paypal problem, I am have shipping issues so I'm sure you understand. I proceeded to ship USPS last week put but they wouldn't let me print the correct postage online nor pick up unless I made the packages priority. Unfortunately the local P.O. has a 30 min. wait and that doesn't work for me during my lunchtime therefore I use p/u. I proceeded to ship fedex on monday and they neglected to p/u. I rescheduled for today but for ground delivery they need 24 hr notice so it will be picked up tomorrow. I assume the package you received from TX wasn't 2 packages and a cummulative total of almost 30 LBS.

me to her:

once again, I'd prefer you keep the package and issue a refund. I get the distinct impression that your 'shipping issues' are more out of spite than actual logistics.

Just so you know, I did not intentionally delay your payment, initially, and feel like I did my part to communicate with you what our timeline was going to be. I haven't gotten the same from you.

If you hadn't sent the package when you said you were going to (two weeks ago)...you should've dropped me a line. instead, every time my dogs bark I rush down there thinking I have a delivery to sign for.

not cool.

I don't like this transaction one bit. really. I've never once had such difficulty either communicating with or doing business with someone through e-bay.

either way, lets just end this quickly, please. send the package or the money (and I think you know which I prefer) as soon as you can.

from oqui to me (after reading her reply)

Just get the money back. Eff her and her shipping woes that took her an entire week from the day she accepted payment to even begin experiencing. Get the money back, or I'll fly John down to Texas so he can graffiti in the dust on her windows!

Your point of open communication during this transaction being completely one sided is the main reason for my displeasure. Every step along the way we contacted her. From initial Paypal transfer to responding to her initial concern over the time period for the money to clear, to cordial requests for shipping date and confirmation of receipt of payment.

Now two weeks out, she still hasn't shipped a thing and if she does, it'll be close to three weeks after she took our money that anything arrives. Completely unacceptable.

The pot has called the kettle black and she jumped the gun with her accusations of our 'deliberate' delay of paypal money transfer. Now her accusations are coming back to haunt her and she plays the, "it took you X days to pay me, so you should understand".

You call me defensive? This bitch can pack sand and refund the money. Not sure what ebay's regulations are, but seeing as we paid for this two and a half weeks ago, and we have nothing, she needs to be reported. If we have a copy of all of our contact attempts and e-mail correspondance, she's gotta be in violation of something.

Now I'm pissed off and I want my money back. This transaction has failed miserably and in my opinion, it's due completely to her lack of knowledge of how these things are supposed to work and acceptable time frames, whether it's Paypal related or seller/buyer related. She is in error, and needs to realize this, and judging by her immature, belated response, we will need to have an authority point it out to her.

------------------------------------------------------

so oqui's pissed. but, he's got anger management issues...so that's to be expected.

if/when I get that package...I'm immediately putting all the contents back up on e-bay.

bitch probably anthraxed 'em.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

wait a second...

I can't go buy a cookie in boxer shorts.


man, I really fucked that up.

the universe is my bitch

and other things to consider.


oqui doesn't like the taste of my left boob. my sincere hope is that this child doesn't share his pickiness.

I had to dress "un-pregnant" for an interview today because I was afraid they wouldn't hire a preggers. I was so successful that now, I'm afraid they'll hire me and I'll have to leave halfway through the school year.

my 12 yo is at a boy's house. a boy who spelled penus (penis, genius) wrong when he graffitied it on our dusty window. he has an appointment to come over tomorrow at 5:30 to wash all of our windows or oqui's going to castrate him. hell, he might castrate him, anyway. just for good measure.

I think I got jipped by an e-bayer out of $150. if I don't get the package soon...I'm going to fly to texas and kick her lilly white ass.

hell, I might fly out there and kick her ass, anyway. just for good measure.

the universe is my bitch, but I'm outta butter. I can't make cookies without butter. and just typing the word "butter" three times has completely eliminated my desire to bake.

so now, I'm going out to buy a cookie.

I should be at the gym bouldering or something. I'm not. I'm writing to-do lists and contemplating which pajamas I'm gonna put on in 42 seconds.

I'm down to 34 seconds and i have yet to decide.

32...
28...
24...

I've got it. opah's snowman boxers.

with 11 seconds to spare.

Monday, June 16, 2008

so scary

I wrote a very long, eloquent and moving passage about this...in my head. It calmed me. I relaxed. It served its purpose...

and now I can't seem to pull it out of the vault to put it here. perhaps it was just meant to be private from the start, but I'll give you the jist.

I've been conflicted about exercise and weight gain (mostly exercise, honestly. I don't care what I weigh as long as I'm fit)...and doing alot of research about what's appropriate during pregnancy.

the consensus among anyone medically responsible or even remotely medically related has been that climbing, riding and skiing are off the list.

the consensus among climbers, riders and skiers is that you can do whatever the damn well you please.

I wanted reassurance. answers. data. knowledge.

I've been driving myself up a wall, and beating myself up over my lack of activity in early pregnancy (which I suddenly and hopefully PERMANENTLY stopped doing this afternoon when I sat across from a woman, obviously suffering from wicked morning sickness, looking like it was all she could do to keep living...let alone sending a 5.10 or riding 12 miles). I was sick. I didn't feel well. I laid around moping...and I've lost some fitness.

ok. fine. I can deal with that. but I need to know what's safe to do NOW.

I thought I found my answer. my saviour. a doctor who has done 15 years of research with recreational and competitive athletes before, during and after pregnancy. his results were clear.

keep. on. moving.

his results, however...were based on runners and aerobics instructors...and didn't address at all my favorite activities.

either way, armed with the body of knowledge gained from his first 5 chapters...I got back on the pony last week. I hiked, ran (yes. I ran. I hate running. I have no idea what got into me), rode and sweated.

25 minutes into our hike/jog...I got cramps.
50 minutes into our ride I felt like my baby was suffocating.

I just didn't feel like there was any way on earth I was bringing in enough oxygen for the both of us. I tried to console myself with the research (the basis of which states that yes the babies DO suffer oxygen dep...but ultimately it makes them stronger and more adaptable vs. brain dead and gimpy)...

but I just couldn't do it. I felt like I was being incredibly selfish...risking my baby for my own adrenaline/endorphine needs.

then I noticed my baby wasn't moving.

so i went home and read chapter 6. the chapter that talks about the baby's stress response to moderate/extreme maternal exercise...and gives you the warning signs.

if you cross your anaerobic threshold (miss suki's outta shape...so this is quite likely)...the baby can experience adverse effects. (I won't go into details...cause honestly, it seems intuitive. I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have even had to read that damn book, but I digress...)

It boils down to this...no fetal movement for 30 minutes or more after exertion = cause for concern.

my baby didn't move for hours...and hours...and hours.

it took me a full day and a half to stop spazzing about that. positive visualization. that's all I could do. even I had detached the placenta...medical science could do nothing for us but pat my shoulder and nod sympathetically...I had to wait it out.

today I heard the heartbeat and rejoiced. the baby's ok.

then a second later I mourned.

we're encouraged as athletes to push through pain, suck it up and push ourselves and I've lost the ability, but not the desire, to do so. I don't quite feel like myself without my ballsout, badassness (or my muscles and abs, now that you mention it).

I see incredibly fit women who are pregnant. I see them in magazines, in ads, even in my neighborhood...and I envy them for either the balance they've been able to strike, or their lack of immobilizing concern about their unborn.

I'll ride, again, and I'll try not to feel guilty. I'll climb moderately and try not to think my baby is being choked. I'll wait it out and get fit again when it doesn't cause me so much stress.

hell, I'll even suck it up and swim and take yoga...

but I won't be able to shake the feeling that a piece of me is missing for a while. it's worth it. I love this baby. I love what my future holds. I love the fact that our family is preparing to welcome another stinky, burpy little member. I love that we're going to raise this child to face fear and be strong.

but despite all that...

I'm just not me unless I'm pushing the envelope.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

I don't like today.

I wasn't a fan of yesterday, either.

I'm overwhelmed. this house. this clutter. these messes. the expenses. this fucking heat.

I'd say that I want the day off...but where does one go to escape "home."



I don't want this house. I've been dutifully busying myself trying to spruce it up, make it feel more livable...just to damn like the place, but the truth is...

I don't. it's a beautiful lil house...perfect. for someone else. I bought it at a different time in my life, with different goals.

now, it seems my only immediate goal on the planet is to rid myself of its burden...and I can't.

the real estate market is making my life...unpleasant. as are the gawdy plastic lawn ornaments of my neighbors. there's gotta be an ordinance against that.

there should be a law against making your house so ugly that noone will even consider buying on your block.

I'm thinking of having a yard sale next week for the sole purpose of paying someone to approach my neighbors...

and offer to buy all their pinwheels and shitty drooping annuals.

I. have. to. sell.


...and noone will even list it.







I feel like punching something...or stabbing oqui.

Friday, June 13, 2008

ok, now I'm just stalling.

I made and ate Ramen Noodles, the packet which has been in the cabinet for over two years...

the very same one that I've never felt remotely compelled to eat...is now chilling in my belly.

I'm burping up ginger from my disgusting vitamins. I changed my shirt, again...

I've leafed through 1/3 of 5 different magazines. I stop every song 40 seconds in...

and I actually WANT more Ramen Noodles.



ok, brain. what's up?

why?

why is it so hot my ass is sticking to the seat?
I got all kinds of excited this morning when the temp was 72. yes. 72. I like 72. 90...nooootttt so much. I'm completely worthless in this shit (and otherwise). I've started a dozen different projects in the last week and haven't finished any of them. my house is falling apart, my bum is sweaty, and I'm booooooooored.

q. can you be lazy and bored at the same time?

a. yes. watch me.

why can't I seem to write a cover letter to save my (financial) life?
as previously mentioned...I'm bored. I WANT a job...not like 40 hours or some crazy shit like that...but 20 a week might keep me from feeling like a beached whale. a little productivity couldn't hurt...'specially since caffeine is prohibited.

why is the majority of 'pop' music today rap? I'm not objected to some much needed hip-hop from time to time, but its a bit irksome that I'm playing the top 100 pop hits of 2007 (according to I-Tunes, that is)...and I find myself unable to escape 'da club.' fuck da club. my ass can't fit into chickenhead pants and tube tops. I wanna be in the woods. the woods like baggy clothes.

they told me so.

along those lines...

why can't I JUST GET COMFORTABLE, ALREADY???
noone is spared my wardrobe confusion. today I've worn the kid's clothes, three of her friends', the kid's dad's girlfriend's, mine, oqui's, even a hand-me-down tank top from my mom.

If I weren't so preggo-porky...

I'd just say fuck it and go nude.

I might just do it, anyway.

I hate my neighbors.

they have it coming...

friday the 13th...

and my divorce is finally final.

I'm a bit displeased with the timing (ie. freddy krueger could've stayed out of this), but happy to not be living in quite as much sin as I was yesterday.

the 'pah was afraid the kid would be in kindergarten before we could get married...

I'm thinking with what our health insurance is gonna cost as a married couple...

it'll be junior's graduation day when we're at long last able tie the knot.

college graduation.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

they duped me!

my lovely Miss Doctor What's-Her-Face, my chiropractor and new love of my life...

wasn't there today.

the shock. the horror.

instead I had dr. I'm-a-bit-nervous-around-women...who said he was surprised he could "perform."

whoa there, killer.

you've got your legs pressed into my body, my boobs are hanging out my shirt (I should've worn a t-shirt), your hands are all over me...

and you're having performance anxiety?

ruh roh.

I swear my body shut down, disallowed any and all cracking (wouldn't want it to crack the WRONG way, now would I?), and settled for a tuesday appt with the love o' my life.

it's cool dr. I-don't-get-laid-very-often, I aint mad. I still got my fifteen minutes of electro-shock therapy and a good giggle out of this morning's appointment.

don't stress it too much.

I hear it happens to all the doctors. really.

next time...I'm sure you'll do just fine.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

in DoC we trust

so I'm in love...with my new chiropractor.

with three minutes of "feeling things out," 40 seconds of adjusting, 4 more minutes of stretching and massage and 15 minutes of electrical stim...

I'M HEALED! HALLELUJAH, THANK DOC, I'M HEALED!!!

first thing tomorrow morning...I'm going to kiss her. bear hug, hand over the lips, full out giant fakey junior high kiss.

...maybe I'll get the digits.

my neck hurt soooo incredibly bad. bad. bad. bad. (continue with another thirty or forty thousand bads, please)

I was miserable. at first I tried to approach it with a positive attitude.

"you're tough. you're going to deliver naturally. be with the pain. don't react" et cetera...yada yada...blah.

then after three days of in(motherfucking)tractable headaches and vicious mind-numbing pain I decided...oh fuck this. labor may hurt, but not for half a damn week...

and the suki got mad. mad at my neck. mad at the world. mad at anybody and thing that crossed my path (I kicked the kid's friends out of the house without so much as a good-bye or a spare cheese stick).

and strangely enough...once again...the universe has proven to me that I'm most effective at EVERYTHING when angry. I've been trying to embrace acceptance as my motto...you know cause being preggo and all, I'd like to try to avoid a fist fight or cardiac event...

but it hasn't worked worth a damn. I'm absolutely and utterly convinced that when mellow, the world overlooks me...but when fired up and spewing heat...I'm able to create enough energy to bend things my way.

I screamed (mentally, mind you. to actually scream hurt too badly) to the cosmos that there must be SOMETHING that could be done about the pain...and that I wasn't going to take this shit one. more. day...

then she healed me. (I <3 her something fierce)

so, yeah...anyway...I'm going to kiss her. and I'll never shop at Old Navy (or any other Gap, Inc) store, again.

PACK SAND GAP, INC.

In a painful fit o' fury...I told their customer service that I would never spend a cent on their shoddy wares again. when asked if I'd like to leave my personal information along with my complaint (dude. she's a retard. the ENTIRE REASON I called is because they refused to issue me a refund without my address...and I told them I'd rather kill them first then recieve a piece of their (or their carefully chosen 'advertising partners' junk mail. so I left without my money)...

I told her, "no need. tell the 'executive offices' that they'll be able to locate me by the smoke, visible from the heavens, that will ensue when I take every last piece of clothing I've ever purchased from them and light one hella large bonfire.'

I think she tried not to laugh. either way...

PACK SAND, GAP, INC.

so with Old Navy out of the picture and my limited I-don't-work-over-the-summer budget...looks like I'll be hitting Ross, TJMaxx and thrift shops for the rest of the maternity clothes that I want...but most certainly don't need.

come to think of it...

MATERNITY CLOTHES CAN PACK IT, TOO.





...ok. I'm done, now.

Monday, June 9, 2008

el numero del diablo

97 degrees outside.

18 weeks pregnant.

35 inches (both bust AND belly).

129 pounds. (ugh)

5 more hours of school left for the kid. (aaaaaah)

3 months til school starts again. (argh)

106 minutes til the 'pah is home for lunch.

3 days into what I'm now certain is a sinus infection.

5 pairs of pants that fit.

(^ 3 of them I hate.)

2 dogs barking at the mailman.

8 bills in the mail.

6 days til Father's Day.

98.2 temp (does that mean it is or isn't viral???)

11 hours of fitful sleep.

100% sure I'm going back to bed soon.

1 thing for certain...

I'm over-joyed at the effectiveness of the central air in this house.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

and that, my friends...is that.

yesterday was the last day of school.

I never thought I'd say it, but...

I cried a little.


after all the quitting I've done over the last year and a half, the fact that this is most likely my last day as "Miss Suki"...ever...kinda hit me. I gave them all my food (and came home ravenous), crocheted them bracelets, and single-handedly manned the effort to keep the custodians from throwing everyone's clothes away. (for which I was rewarded by the secretary with a reprimand that that isn't the way things are done...but she wouldn't tell on me. psssssht!)

the big sign outside my room said, "free coats (and hoodies)...come in!"

most of them were way too goddamned cool to take anything used. in fact...they called ME dirty.
(ha! if only they knew...), but there were a few who were all too eager to snag some name brand clothes (for free) for once.

the very last coat went to a disabled boy who hobbled into my room, gave me a pound and asked (after I looked at him funny and said "do I know you?")...is this the room with the coats and hats?

I only had one left. one last coat out of 15 or more...and I was praying to jesus it fit this poor boy. he tried it on while I held his books. all smiles he said, "yeah, miss. it fits."

I said, "yes, it most certainly does" while holding back tears...

and the boy walked off down the hall still wearing it, despite the fact that it was at least 80 in that building.

I damn near cried.

I now realize that I went into this assignment with every intention of hating the kids, not letting them get to me, and I never even told them my name.

I told them to call me Miss Substitute.

and none of it worked...I'm still gonna miss the shit out of them, and worry my ass off all summer that none of them are falling into the wrong crowd.

stupid fucking city. eats kids alive.

so for what was very likely my last statement from a student, on what was very likely my very last day of teaching ever...I heard yelled from a bus, "Miss Suki!!! are you pregnant?????"

I replied with a simple "yup."

I couldn't bring myself to ask..."are you?" cause the chances of that answer being yes would break my heart.

speaking of breaking hearts...I saw one of my ex-students at the community college a few minutes ago. Her name is Starr. I had her in the pregnant and parenting teens program. She's mildly disabled and was more in love with her unborn baby than anyone else I'd ever seen.

I asked her about him. I wish I hadn't. He was born disabled, removed from her custody...

and is being adopted (CLOSED) any day, now.

I guess I'm busy protecting myself and my own baby...cause I didn't shed a single tear. I just asked her to keep herself on the right track and to make sure she doesn't have any more "accidents" (both sexual and physical. when she was 4 months pregnant she was hit by a bus, broke her rib cage and the baby had a shattered arm. saddest. ultrasound. picture. ever.).

I told her that no woman could survive having a child taken from her twice in one lifetime.

I didn't add that this particular woman can't handle many more of these stories.

summer will be a blessed BLESSED relief from the stress that comes with caring for (and occassionally trying to teach) kids.

I'm gonna get a nice easy part-time job directing air traffic or something...

and finally relax.


with school being out...I think I'm finally liking being pregnant, too. I know the 'pah sure is. the larger I get...

the bigger his grin.


even though my pants don't fit...It's kinda nice.


(insert pretend pics of my big belly AND grin)

Monday, June 2, 2008

crazy with a squirt bottle

since climbing is proving to whoop my lilly white ass (over-hung reachy climbs can suck my pregnant titty)...

I've taken to "other pursuits."


like cleaning the shit outta my house.

the chi...be a'flowing. I've purged three rooms and a hallway closet so far, and am halfway through the sunroom and living room.

these rooms are hard. I've got 43,837 built in closets with approximately 987,349,272,270 old shitty books, magazines and pictures in them.

soooo...I've been having a bunch of nap-attacks on the couch while contemplating my strategy.

ie. I've made a mess and haven't cleaned it up, yet.

I scrubbed my uber white kitchen with a bajillion cabinets from (almost) top to bottom (you couldn't pay me to clean the tops of those cabinets off...oqui graffiti'ed a love note to me in the inches of dust). hand scrubbed the floor. cleaned the trashcans (yes. I did. I did)...

and washed the dog bowls for the first time in 3 years.

wouldn't it be ironic if they died from soap residue?

I'm shifting furniture and clearing energy.

if we can't sell this sumnabitch...

I might as well start liking living here, again.


ps. I chopped my hair off, too.