made me think...

the title of my last blog reminded me of something my lil monkey said to me last friday.

we were rushing around trying to get five or six mother's day/birthday gifts wrapped, everyone fed, and her packed up to go to a sleep-over when she responded to one of my suggestions for wrapping a gift (see we don't BUY gifts around here...we make them and the presentation is 80% of the deal) with...

come on, mom. what do you think I am, an amateur? I AM your kid, ya know.

why, yes. you most certainly are, miss sassy pants!

hahahaha

and way to go on that shrink-wrapped, home-made, oh-so-appropriately embellished gift basket, too (high fives the kid).

makes a momma proud.

it must suck having me as a mom

the phone convo:

me: hey, kid...you want a canvas bag to tie dye at camp?
her: yeah, can you get me a green wig and wings, too?
me: when do you need it?
her: tomorrow.

um, no.

the poem she's going to recite tomorrow IN FRONT OF HER ENTIRE CLASS, that she needs said items for:

I'm Glad I'm Me
I don't understand why everyone stares
when I take off my clothes and run down the stairs
or when I stick carrots in both of my ears,
then dye my hair green and go shopping at Sears.

I just love to dress up and do goofy things.
If I were an angel I'd tie dye my wings!
Why can't folks accept me the way that I am?
So what if I'm different and don't act like them?

I'm not going to change and be someone I'm not.
I like who I am, and I'm all that I've got!


the end result of the artist hub and I's combined efforts:

hurry, cookie! to the produce section!!!

is that a carrot in your ear or are you just happy to see me?

end result of tomorrow for teh kid:

ridicule, humiliation and torment.

heeeeeeeeeeeeehehehehehehe

I LOVE being a parent.

hahahah

my friend (show me yer junk) did a little redecorating recently...

good thing this boys in australia or I might be forced to break his leg...

or something.

not a broken record...

just one that skips.

went for another ride today. was out about two hours and get this...

didn't want to throw up even once. oh, yeah. it's my birthday.

this is a good feeling. knowing that I still have the occassional up with my all too plentiful downs=priceless.


...now for my regularly scheduled nap.

I'm fussy.

the highlight of my day was when I took a rather large and refreshing poo...not only for the inherent joy related to such an activity...but because it also felt like maybe...just magically maybe I could poo out whatever is making me feel like ass.

I shouldn't feel like ass. I had a cool day. went for a mountain bike ride (kinda. more to follow). had some cold stone frozen deliciou-o-rama. went shopping for a brand new bike of my very own. got a new camelbak. spoke to a few old friends. spent some q-t on the back porch watching the rain and my dumb ass dogs and had a wee ittle bit of chocolate.

all this would make for a super awesome day if I didn't still feel like I weigh 3,000 pounds and I'm constantly dehydrated. I. feel. heavy (not literally speaking. I weighed less this afternoon than I have in six years. maybe why I'm weak???).

weak. beat up. and...

fussy.

I threw up half-way through our ride this afternoon. five miles and forty-five minutes in I had my face in the grass, unable to move. took me half an hour to have a few sips of water and recover enough to head back.

I know I sound like a broken record lately. I read these blogs...I just write what I feel...and lately I haven't felt well.

its time for another trip to the doctor, me thinks.

something's really wrong with the suki.

headed to the dark side

I am sooooo incredibly fucking weak. I cried today.

to say my climbing is sub-par would be a compliment.

wes t. conquerer: why you falling off that?

suki: I got nothing.

^ aint that the truth.

this girl needs to take a little rest, eat right (what IS that these days, anyway?), and find my fucking chi...because I can't continue to call myself a climber the way I've been flailing about.

an absolute fucking disgrace.


fuck this. tomorrow...

I'm going for a bike ride.

perhaps

I've got things to attend to.

perhaps...

I'll get shit done this time around.


(cryptic suki says touch your toes)

hate to disappoint...

but the fatty fat fat was nice to me today.

I couldn't bring myself to gut her when she hobbled around on a freshly surgically repaired knee (although that would've made for several quality fat jokes, right there)...and generally looked pathetic.

so we made nice and exchanged phony pleasantries.

fret none...there's hope. next week she'll be off the pain killers and back to uber bitch mode...and I'm sure it'll be game on.

I did manage to trash her to another teacher, though. who simply said "yeah. she's always like that."

I guess in the end what this was really about though...

she wasn't worth the bail money and I chumped out.


stay tuned. this aint over yet.

fat bitch v. the suk-ster *ding*

its on.

I briefly mentioned this overly large angry woman who's been giving me the evil eye and cold shoulder at school...but have not since elaborated.

pull up a twinkie, get comfy...cause it's about to go down.

last friday this HEFFFFAAAAAH had the nerve to get out right and completely rude with me. RUDE beyond what I would even expect from our little ghetto ass students. RUDE like you'd be three seconds before someone busts a forty bottle over your dome. RUDE like its a good thing I've got bail money because I'm about to commit a homicide.

RUDE.

she's my last class of the day tomorrow. I've given this alot of thought over the last week. really analyzed my response to her most recent transgression. upon sucking her teeth, rolling her eyes and hitting me with a major 'tude...I simply cocked my head to one side and said "well, oooooooh kay, then!" and walked away.

teh hub thinks this was the wrong approach because, even though I didn't stoop to her level...I let her know she gets under my skin.

a friend believes it was the wrong approach because I took her actions personally, and should recognize that her issues are hers...not mine.

another friend told me I should've thrown a chair.

after much deliberation...I've chosen my best course of action.

tomorrow...

I'm simply going to walk into her room, give her the head nod and say:

"sup, slim?"

I'm tired.

am I the only woman on earth who doesn't really LIKE shopping? I had to get some "school" shoes to wear with all my mini-marm outfits, and didn't enjoy a single second of it.

walked into store one, was macking on some super fly pumas, a couple o' pairs of canvas slip on jobbies (the hotness)...then came to the realization that I can't wear the same thing the fifth graders would...

I needed grown up shoes.

FUUUUUUUUCK. there is only one place I'd wear grown up shoes...and that's a place I never WANT to go...just one I HAVE to.

so I passed up the pumas (I'll be back) and started scoping out some less fly, comfy-chase-a-kid-able shoes. shopping for necessities is like artificial insemination.

all the expense, discomfort, put-out-edness...and none o' the fun in the process.

settled on two pairs of semi-conservative, uber cheap (I'm only going to wear them thrice each) heeled sandals (I need to at least APPEAR bigger than these chumps)...and only cried a little.

went to the climbing gym afterwards, got my ass tossed around on some stuff I KNOW I CAN SEND...and then cried a little more.

fuck. this. shit. I want my suki back...

and those hype ass pumas.

it only hurts because its true

matty says that he and I used to climb at the same level. fall off the same routes at the same spots...and he's right. we USED to. he's now climbing well above my level...and I'm climbing well below my peak.

mark pointed out that I'm not working as hard as I used to. julie said I wear myself down. others say...it just takes time.

what's the deal? do I work harder? take more rest? train less/more/smarter?

I know I'm coming off of an illness...but do I start pushing again? take it easy?

what kind of an athlete am I?

...and what is my body actually capable of?

I've been feeling strong on boulder problems lately. not actually sending anything...but sticking moves and FEELING tight. routes? leading? forgeddaboudit. I'm either too scared, or just so lacking endurance that I can't even push myself through a prg 11 (which is more like a 9).

I've gotta find my groove.


...really.

~snagged~

24.23 miles over the limit. the limit being 25.

they don't call me evil genevil for nothing.

mandatory six month suspension of driving privileges for exceeding the speed limit by more than 16 miles per hour (he showed me the statute). an additional six month suspension for the accumulation of points that the wreckless driving charge would've added, additional fines for not having my license AND insurance card (I was 1 for 3 when I found the registration, at least)...and at least a doubling of my insurance premium.

thankfully for me...I'm a girl. not that my itty bitty boobies did me any favors...homeboy said he was looking out for my husband, though. wouldn't want HIM to have to pay my extra car insurance. ha! I OBVIOUSLY look like a no-income-having irresponsible mofo. if it looks like a slacker, quacks like a hippy...let its husband pay the insurance (or it gets the hose...)

I got away with failure to obey a traffic control device (like I usually do), no points, a good lecturing (and quite the plea to my better judgement), a $107 fine, and fourteen questions about climbing...cause I was pulled over, of course IN THE CLIMBING GYM PARKING LOT.

I shit you not. I drove at least 17 hours last week...most of it over the speed of 90...and managed to finally get snagged 1/billionth of a mile from the climbing gym, today. I had the kids (bayl and alann) in the car, STUFFED with climbing gear, which probably didn't hurt my flighty fun-loving young mother who would NEVER intentionally endanger another's children by driving wrecklessly cause.

I got the usual "do you have any idea how fast you were going?" I gave the usual "nope, but I'm guessing it was a bit too fast, huh?" followed by my award winning grin and blowjob. (kidding. at least on the blowjob, anyway)

he gave the "license, registration and insurance please"

and I, of course, did the obligatory search for the items I KNEW weren't there. they're never there. I always PUT them there...but, of course, they're never there. he knew something was up when I rattled off my driver's license number to him, later pointing out that I'm on my third dup. I was like...yeah. I lose that alot. he was like...yeah, I noticed.

he was super good natured. took his time looking me up and trying to scare me...all the while I'm cleaning out the grocery getter. stacking gear on the ground. collecting trash. noticing I still have "SHORTY" scrawled across my rear window. wiping the windows down. checking the headlights...all as if I WASN'T boxed in by a police cruiser, lights flashing, patrons curiously peeking through the door, co-workers gossiping about how I must be out there grabbing my ankles.

did I say co-workers? I think that was alanna, actually.

so I'm still waiting...now I'm texting the hub that I'm in the process of getting $107 fine (not my first. I could've written the ticket for him), checking all my voicemail and planning next weeks menu (mcdonald's, arby's, wendy's, isaac's, shephard's pie, power bars).

I just couldn't bring myself to be upset. I drive like a bat outta hell and knew my kop karma wouldn't hold out forever. I thought I was going to bite it in new york state when a cop flew up on me lights blazing at 87. fortunately for me...

there was another asshole before me going faster.

faster than me? yeah...

he must've been REALLY cruising.

what an asshole!

fuzzy math.

one day, one night improptu bouldering trip totals:

six hour round trip road trip -------> 8 1/2 hours
sleeping in car -----> 5 1/2 hours
total climbing time ----------------->7 hours
one year climbing membership to mohunk preserve for me and teh hub ------> $135
climbing shoes, crash pad, guide book, destination stickers-----> $320
gassing up the grocery getter-----> $75
breakfast, dinner, snacks ----->$80
thank you gifts for kid and dog sitters -----> $35
hourly wage at rock gym (to "pay" for my habit) -----> $7.50

problems sent -----> 1


aaaaaaaaaaaah hahahahahahaha!

note to reader: doing it again this saturday

mr. dancer

I get a phone call from my mother's cell this afternoon. she's totally deadpan...

"I got some bad news today. shocker of the decade"

with all the drama surrounding my sister and nieces, general tendency towards lunacy in this family, and a couple o' doozies of my own...I'm preparing myself for the worst. she then tells me that OH MY GOD!!! DOUG DANCER IS GETTING MARRIED.

ok, I'm laughing already. see...about 8 years ago, my mom dukes was totally OBSESSED with this man. completely in love. head over heels reetardo-rama for this guy. unrequited. never consumated...never fully let it go. a few months ago she was out of the country on business and just happened to run into the former flame who was doing some consulting for the same company. they struck up a convo, had a drink, left it at that.

no mention of marriage.

and CERTAINLY no mention that he was about to being marrying another man.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa hahahahahahahahahah aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

my mom...is, understandably, taking this pretty hard.

I, on the other hand...

and busy laughing my ass off that the former man of her dreams...mr. dancer (of all the apropo names)...

is "marrying" a chunky 45 year old bald man.

go, doug.

its your birfday.

ooh, yeah.

Due to a bunch of super weird circumstances, today I had the option of taking a first grade class, teaching art, or just going home. I chose to take the class so the other first grade teachers wouldn't have extra kids, the retired art teacher could make the rounds and hang with the other kids, and my husband could actually sleep because I wouldn't be coming home all amped up on my morning cup o' tea.

when my first student walks in, all of six years old, he turns to his homeboy and says "ooh, yeah. we got a cute one today."

grreat. apparently I've got the six to 11 year old male demographic on lock down. they heart the suki.

somebody remind me to buy lots of very conservative button up tops. come to think of it...

dressing like a marm might work wonders with the overly image conscious fat chick who gives me the evil eye every time she sees me. this chick hates me. the same teacher who so pointedly informed me that she is a MISS and NOT a Mrs. one and the same teacher with a french pedicure (seriously. come on.). the same teacher who tans her hide to a rather unappealing shade of orange, sports long fake finger nails and cakes her face with make-up. my very existence seems to disrupt every fiber of her being. simply BEING makes her want to cause me harm.

today I almost said "sup, fatty? you want a piece of me?"...I instead settled on. mmmm...this sure is some mighty fine grouper....but your donut looks good, too.

go for a jog, heffa...and lay off the ho-ho's. aint my fault you're an arm-chair.

in other news, I got my drink on last night, had some great grouper (ok. I just like saying grouper. step off, already) with miss michaela, found a headless bee in my yard (where do you think the head went? are bees cannibalistic, by any chance? I sure hope so. I hate the little fawks), had a take five candy bar, considered painting my toenails for the first time since I began climbing (NOT in a french pedicure, mind you) and got my usual five or six hours of sleep.

tres exciting. I know. you all wish you could be me, just now.

don't all crowd at once...