Friday, September 25, 2009

stilllll sleepy.

not as sick, but definitely TIRED TIRED TIRED.

probably just as much from my lingering swine/plague/flu/cold as from the fact that the Prof has been...shall we say...not sleeping well?

he's cutting a tooth. (never thought I'd be so proud of a little toofer, but he's about 5 months overdue and I was starting to worry. PARTICULARLY because its a symptom of celiac, but I REALLY digress....)

he stood unassisted this week. well....danced, actually. he's definitely mine. he digs throw back jams and old school hip hop.

he said, clear as a bell, "sissy." The Monkey was THRILLED.

and he finally took to the binky...about 11 months late, but if it keeps his little teething gums happy, I'm game. he's actually more interested in playing a little game of self-fetch with it...but it keeps in happy in his playpen...which HE.ABSOLUTELY.LOVES.

amen. I can pee, again.

oh, yeah...

he humps everything, too. (balls deep)

oqui finally conceeded that a DNA test isn't necessary...

the boy is his.

Monday, September 14, 2009

stillllllllllllllllllllllll sick.

cough. gag. choke. sweat.

anyone brave enough to break the quarantine is welcome to come smack me over the head with a golf club.

kthnx.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

sick.

dying.

help.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I got two words for ya

rumney was a gigantic bust.

oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.

t'was (yet another) trip from hell.

the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.

sweet.

fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...

for ten fucking hours.

the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.

no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.

wait. it gets better.

we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.

nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.

I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.

we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.

BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.

he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.

her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.

fuck me.

now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.

he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.

soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.

fuck.in.a.

on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.

'scuse me!?!?!

girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.

separate cars, girlfriend.

separate cars.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

loser!

wow.

checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.

they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.

I totally fucked something up.

who's a loser???

--------> THIS GIRL <----------

gotta admit

I'm a little apprehensive about the trip with the baby.

he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).

he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.

it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.

we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.

I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.

aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.

haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???

either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.

another fact worthy of note:

monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.

doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...

on top rope.

it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.

I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.

yeah...9's it is.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

oh. it don't get no better than this.

10-Day Forecast for Rumney, NH
Forecast Conditions
High °FLow °F

TonightSep 2
Clear
N/A49°
0%


ThuSep 3
Sunny
79°52°
0%

79°F
FriSep 4
Partly Cloudy
78°53°
10%

78°F
SatSep 5
Partly Cloudy
74°47°
0%

74°F
SunSep 6
Sunny
71°50°
0%

71°F
MonSep 7
Partly Cloudy
73°51°
20%

on my way to new jerseyshire...

we are taking both children adventuring.

9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.

it's gonna be cold.

The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...

but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.

I must to go buy a coat for the kid.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

high road (aka faking it)

perhaps its because its no longer melt your skin hot outside?
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?

either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.

(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)

I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.

I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.

ie. I'm gonna fake it.

I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...

then I shall set sail without them.

how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?

I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.

save the drama for....

actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.

I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.

put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.