The Black Book (a veritable what the hell who's who? of people who have held little bits of my heart through the years)

Name: Clem
Me: 2nd grade, confused, ADD, never brushed my hair.
Him: the boy who sat next to me, Cuban, dark, mysterious, effeminate.
What happened: I chased him around the playground and pinned him down, tried to kiss him. Primordial sexual stirrings. My mother wouldn’t let me go to his house to play. Interest waned.

Name: Jenny
Me: I adored her in 2nd-3rd grade
Her: My best friend
Why we kissed: We were best friends, so we had to seal the pact. She had the biggest pucker ever.

Name: Martin
Me: Grade 3, glasses, precocious, lost the spelling bee
Him: Grade 4, older, taller, played the lead role in The Mikado, British
What happened: Huge crush; fantasies of being hospitalized and him holding my hand, consoling me. Not entirely sure he knew I was alive. See how much I loved him in this picture.

Name: My Cool J. Fox
Me: Freshman in high school
Him: Senior, repeating a class he had failed, looked like Alex Keaton
What happened: Huge crush; fantasies of being hospitalized and him holding my hand, consoling me. Not entirely sure he knew I was alive.

.

.

Now come the crush years. Too many to list. Include Markus, whom my cousin also dated. 2 guys named Hillar. Blah blah blah. Hard Puberty, breasts, mortification, adjustment.

.

.
Name: Dennis 1
Me: Senior
Him: Sophomore, but older than most because he stayed back and had started school late. Not too bright. Big eyebrows. Skinny.
What happened: I broke up with him the day before the prom but we went together anyhow. He showed up in a tux that did not match my dress. I ignored him all night.

Name: Hodge
Me: College Freshman
Him: Junior (also in college)
How It Went Down: Storybook romance; I spotted him at a soccer game and said, “I would die for a guy like that.” He spotted me in the bookstore and said, “Do I know you?” then hunted me down in my dorm. We were in love for a few months. He showed up to meet my dad in a rumpled shirt & no shave. He broke up with me. We tried to get together a few times but it didn’t take. I was finally over him 2 years later.

Name: Aryan
Me: Sophomore-Senior in college
Him: Lived in my dorm, dated my friend, drove a beatup Chevy pickup that he still has.
What happened: He broke up with her to date me. She tried to kill herself twice. We camped & burned tires in the woods. Love. He was Russian Orthodox and I wasn’t. I think black folks are a-ok and he doesn’t. His former roommate is now my boss. His brother died in 1999 so we got back in touch. 1-2 emails a year.

.

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Now comes sort of a blurry haze for a few years in the job world. Including Mike, my vice principal, who was arrested the day after we went out for drinks (for possession of cocaine) & forced to resign; Dennis 2, whose mom I worked with and who (I found out) had been arrested for a domestic violence incident at some point; Dennis 3, whose brother I worked with and who left 25 drunken messages on my answering machine one night; some guy whose name I forget whom I escaped by ducking out through the kitchen of a bakery; some other guy who I left at a restaurant after he got up 8 times to make phone calls. I think I might have been making bad choices.

.

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Name: Shepherd Boy
Me: 24
Him: 19
What happened: Broke my heart.

Name: The Onion

Me: 27, feisty, adventurous

Him: 28, Dot com millionaire, eccentric, liar, somewhat famous.

What happened: I felt like something wasn't quite right. I let it go. Later, I read about him online and found out what he had been up to, and it was not good. I can't give details, because I don't want you to look him up and embarrass him.

Name: Neighb
Me: I don’t know. Almost 30.
Him: My best friend.
What happened: We were friends for 10 years, then we crossed over & couldn’t cross back when it didn’t work out. We stopped talking when he started dating the woman he later married, and we just never talked again. My boss is good friends with him (he also lived in my dorm) & gives me updates I don’t want to hear.

Name: Stefan
Me: Now
Him: A very dear friend
What's happening: I so wish we were attracted to each other, because I adore him and we are amazingly great friends. We are each other’s Plan B; maybe when we are both 90 and we’ve given up the quest for Mr./Ms. Right.

Name: Sven
Me: 30
Him: 39, Norwegian, possible Asperger’s Syndrome, tall, penilely challenged
What happened: I hated his stupid dog and didn’t love him. He cried for 3 hours when we broke up and wouldn’t leave my house.

Name: Neil
Me: Looking for work with birds of prey, recovering from surgery, feeling a need to reconnect with my womanhood.
Him: Doing a study with birds of prey in Wyoming desert, running dogsleds in the winter, living in a teepee, smoking pot.
What happened: Spent a few weeks banding hawks and reconnecting with my womanhood. Then I came home.

Name: The K-Man
Me: Teacher, 31-34, smitten
Him: Charming, funny, alcoholic, married
What happened: Great pals, worked closely together, went to New Orleans for a conference and he acted like a big asshole; I told him to go to hell and fix his train wreck of a life. Left him in New Orleans. Major impetus for giving up alcohol.

Name: Brad the Clown
Me: 35-36, aloof, bored
Him: 37-38, one testicle, artistic, boring, racist, lazy, sloppy eater, has 1 joke that he repeats over & over.
What happened: I dumped him.

Name: The Handyman a.k.a. Brazil nut
Me: 36, 2 days after breaking up with Brad, I said to my friends; “I need a hot-blooded Latino lover to tell me I am beautiful.”
Him: In my house when I got home that day.
What happened: 1 month fling, with bonus (!) of numerous items fixed & painted around my house. Then he went back to Venezuela.

Name: Freaky Hand Fetish Dude
Me: Agreed to a blind date
Him: Bass player, looked like

this guy from Stargate, freaky, carried pictures of his cats in his wallet.
Why I changed my phone number: When I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him trying to hold my hand this early (we had met 10 minutes ago) he said, peevishly, “Oh, what --- we have rules about things now?!?” He asked me to clap my hands so he could psychoanalyze me according to how I clapped. When I did so, he closed his eyes and smiled and said, “That is the most beautiful sound in the world.” Later, he rested his hand open-palmed on my hand and moaned with his eyes closed as if he had just squirted in his pants. He freaked me out so much I didn’t leave him immediately, I was afraid he would stalk me. Luckily he didn’t know where I live or any of my phone numbers but the one I changed.

Name: Calzone
Me: Horrified ... yet drawn to him.
Him: Abusive, condescending, defiling, objectifying, pampering. Ridicules me, feeds me cheese, dresses me up like a cowgirl.
What happened: It’s still happening and it never ever stops.

Name: Monkey
Me: Nurturing, adoring, anticipating.
Him: Fuzzy, has a giant hoo hah, indignant, flattering, incessantly packing and unpacking.
What happened: He is coming here in 3 days!!! It will be the time of our lives. I am, after all, easy to please.

10 Years Today

This is a repost, marking 10 years since I decided to give up my little alcohol habit.

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to be funny. These things are only funny to me because they are all true, because I did them, and because I salvaged my poor gin-soaked soul on August 6, 2003. If you think you might have a problem, consider these points or take this quiz. I took it 14 times before I realized that cheating on the answers didn’t make them any less true.

Image respectfully borrowed from BeerStuff

You Might Have a Teensy Weensy Problem With Alcohol If…

• You make three separate trips to the recycling center because you don’t want anyone to see how many bottles you have, but you still care about the earth.
• You carry your trash really carefully when your landlord is around, so he doesn't hear the clinking.
• You remember drinking 1 bottle of chardonnay, but in the morning you see 3 empty ones.
• You go to at least 3 different liquor stores because you don't want to be seen going so often; nevertheless, all the owners cheerfully greet you by name.
• You drunk-dial your friends and then tell them the same story several times, in almost the exact same words. When they call you on it, you say, "oh, I've told this story so many times I don't remember who I told it to." (this doesn't work very well when it's the same person, in the same phone call)
• You make elaborate plans with friends and family, and then don’t remember a word. The next day, when your friend says, “so what time should I come over?” you pretend you know all about it to cover your ass. Later, when your other friend calls (with whom you also made plans), you cancel because of an “appointment you forgot you had”.
• Your first words in the morning, every morning for 2+ years, are “Oh, shit ... not again.”
• Your coworkers ask you why you look so tired, or if you are sick (answer: both). Your answer: trouble sleeping (also true).
• You wake up at 3 AM every night in a shame spiral, and wonder how & when you got to this point. You’re an intelligent, beautiful, self-aware woman, dammit—you can’t be a drunk! (you can be both; nobody sets out to have this affliction on purpose, ya know. Duh.) (By the way I sometimes dream that I went on a drinking binge & wake up feeling utter despair at having failed, then relief that I’m still OK. And if I did fail, I hope I’d have the strength to pick up where I left off).
• You bring your own magnum of chardonnay to the party because they probably don’t have what you want (or enough of it); you offer to open it for the hostess. You drink most of it.
• You order a whole bottle of wine at a bar and the bartendress keeps it on ice for you and all the friends you intend to share it with. Most of them don’t have any.
• You decide that a mandarin Absolut & tonic (m.a.t.) is OK at 10 AM; it’s citrusy, like orange juice. That's breakfast, right?
• You decide that grocery shopping is so much more fun with a buzz on, so you have one m.a.t. for breakfast & then put one in a sippy cup for the road.
• The following activities are drinking triggers: talking on the phone, sitting at the computer, watching TV, driving home from work. Also breathing, eating, sleeping.
• You’ve rationalized that you’d better switch to vodka since it doesn’t smell (as much—enough of anything and your sweat still smells like skid row).
• You lie to your best friend on the phone that the reason your speech is slurred is because you are wearing a Crest White Strips on your teeth.
• You decide to drink only on weekends, then drink on a Thursday because that’s close.
• You decide to drink every other day, and then fail after 2 days.
• You decide not to drink one morning, and then change your mind on the drive home. You haven’t done it yet, you could still stop it, but having made the decision in your mind it is already too late. This yet-unacted-upon weakness fills you with despair.
• You decide to drink just 2 glasses of wine, but glass 3.5 kills the bottle (you have biiiig glasses), so why stop? Wine goes bad if it sits.
• Wine never goes bad in your house.
• You wonder aloud about your drinking habits with all of your drinking friends, and say things like, “it’s not as if I’d drink something else if there were no wine in the house” (this was before I discovered the m.a.t. and the no-smell-vodka secret)
• There is always wine in the house.
• You actually think to yourself, who needs friends when I have this?
• You choose a night home with a DVD and 2 bottles of wine over a night out with friends (rationalization: cheaper, and then I don't have to drive drunk).
• You wonder aloud whether a life without wine in it is even possible. All those dinners out, and no wine? (it is possible, and the peace of mind that comes from a sober life far exceeds the enjoyment of a fine chardonnay. Although sometimes I still imagine the molten-gold flavor of it going down my throat, and I feel a lust unlike anything I’ve ever felt).
• You finally resolve to quit drinking, but you can’t “officially” quit until all the booze in the house is gone, so you make a list of everything you need to consume, including that nasty bottle of Pimm's and the Smuggler whiskey your dad brought over for a party once (happy ending: upon realizing the huge volumes I’d have to consume, I gave all my top-shelf vodkas, gins, scotches & rums to a friend for her huge summer bash, and poured the rest of it down the toilet on August 7, 2003. Funny, I didn’t feel bad about wasting it, even though I was raised not to waste nutrients. I figured those kids in Africa didn’t need to become boozehounds).
• You check out the AA website, just to see what it’s all about.
• [UPDATE] You taste a tiny tiny sip of your husband's drink sometimes, mostly to remind yourself that you can't have it, you are never safe around it.  When you taste, it flows into you like a river of golden lava and awakes a craving so deep and complete that you know, really know, that you are only well because you are not having it and oh, what a slippery slope this is ... truly, in one day it could all be undone by going down this path.  So you just touch the path with your toe for the reminder, and then pull it back to safety. Tickle the sleeping tiger, then pull your hand back to watch it very closely, lest it fix its gaze upon you.

[note: I am not made uncomfortable in any way by the mention of alcohol, the presence of it, or when my friends around me order it at the dinner table. I am happy to discuss it and proud of my sobriety. It’s not a word that needs to be whispered, like cancer or prison. I am not offended by anyone’s drunken audio post, or mention of drunkenness in this virtual (or any other) world. The only thing that upsets me is when I meet/see people who are obvious alcoholics; not because I judge them but because I know the place they are in, and it is not a good place. I questioned my drinking for 8 years, and experienced out-of-control drinking for about a year and a half before I stopped. I still question exactly how I got to that point. I can only hope that suffering alcoholics find solid ground, as I did. Thank you for reading.]

Get thee behind me, Satan.

I felt like a repost, so ...

100 Things


1. My first language was Estonian. I still speak, read & write it. All the time!
2. I didn't really speak English until I went to kindergarten,
3. where I learned the word "soon" and thought it meant one o'clock.
4. I thought this until I was 11 years old.
5. Because it rhymes with "soon", you see?
6. My twin sister Twirling Girl has always, always been there.
7. I don’t know what I would do without her.
8. My baby sister Tuuna Taco is my other best friend.
9. My parents are some of the best people I know,
10. And I don't tell them enough, so I am telling them now.
11. Since they read my blog.
12. Which sort of censors me, but that is probably a good thing.
13. I can be gross at your blogs, right?
14. I worry that if I ever meet any of you, you will discover that I am not really as pretty as the persona I have created
15. although I have begun to think of myself as "Spinning Girl" and would probably answer to it if someone called to me.
16. Sometimes I get terribly lonely.
17. Often, I love being alone & doing what I want, when I want.
18. I need to tune my piano so that I can play it.
19. I need to clean my chimney so that I can make bigger fires without fearing that I am going to start a chimney fire.
20. Some pieces of music are so beautiful to me that I cannot contain the emotion I feel when I hear them, and I just cry.
21. I can’t stand most of the music I hear on the radio.
22. There are some exceptions.
23. I have an almost unholy obsession with Yellow Ledbetter and every time I hear those first few hesitant guitar notes, I smile with glee.
24. I had a small alcohol problem once.
25. By small, I mean that it had a short life. Maybe two years of really drinking in a way I felt was out of control.
26. Plus 15 years of wondering if maybe I drank a little too much?
27. I gave up the booze on August 6, 2003.
28. In March of 2004 I drank 3 bottles of wine by myself and scared myself so much that I never want to drink again.
29. In July of 2006 I accidentally took a giant swig of my cousin’s vodka tonic, but only because our cups were identical and it really was by accident.
30. If I drink on purpose, I am afraid I will not stop, ever.
31. I still get mad that something so fun could turn into something so bad, but I’m OK with it and I don’t miss it. It just pisses me off that alcohol was such a mean trickster bastard.
32. I become smitten very easily.
33. Recently I was smitten with someone in my grad class.
34. But he never called when he said he would, so I had my answer.
35. That’s too bad, because I still find him really attractive even though I don’t talk to him much.
36. I am also completely infatuated with Jamwall, even though we have never met, because he gets me and we feed off each other’s sick humor in a truly exhilarating way.
37. Right now, I am imagining Jamwall naked.
38. Are you?
39. Someday, I hope to spend a weekend with him, romping through a condiment village that we have built together.
40. Sometimes I am perfectly happy with my life the way it has gone thus far.
41. But I am always ready for the next big, good thing.
42. I would like to be a mom, though not necessarily give birth.
43. Maybe I just need a pony!
44. Or a dog, a non-pooping dog.
45. Having to pick up shit is the one major thing keeping me from getting a dog.
46. Sharing my living space with a box of urine and shit and giant hair balls is what is keeping me from getting a cat.
47. I had the most amazing cat once, and he will never be equaled.
48. I fear the spider, but only once it has reached a certain size.
49. Spiders of Acceptable Size (SAS) are allowed to live freely in my home.
50. Spiders of Unacceptable Size – SUS-- are thrown outside, not killed, unless they are huge or move very fast.
51. I would probably go crazy if I woke up and discovered an SUS clinging to the tip of my nose with all 8 of its legs.
52. I can honestly say that I love my job.
53. It is like a dream. A job cannot be this perfect, can it?!?!?
54. I sometimes fear becoming debilitated and unable to teach anymore; what would I do then?!?!?
55. I don’t spend much time fearing the future though.
56. Most of my fears are fleeting thoughts, lucky me.
57. Maybe I am stupidly optimistic. That is fine with me.
58. I take life’s little luxuries very seriously.
59. My bed.
60. My coffee.
61. That’s a short list, but those are the two biggies.
62. When I was a child, my favorite place to visit was my grandparents’ house in upstate New York.
63. Sometimes we had to weed the garden, and we had to finish before we could swim.
64. This taught me self-discipline and delayed gratification.
65. I used to pretend I was a poor little slave girl, weeding my little row of carrots in the blazing hot sun.
66. Nothing equals the bliss of a cold swim after you have been sweating in the blazing hot sun.
67. There was (is) a spring-fed pond on my grandparents’ back property.
68. It is stocked with fish that were caught elsewhere & put there by my family.
69. They have lived & multiplied there for 50 years.
70. I used to catch grasshoppers in the meadow and then feed them to the fish.
71. I used to be very good at catching grasshoppers; the most I ever caught was 72.
72. Grasshoppers!!!
73. I fear that one day a swarm of locusts will land on me, as payback.
74. This fear, however, is fleeting.
75. When my family sells my grandparents’ house, I don’t think I will be as sad as I was over the past 10 years, watching it decline from what it once was.
76. Nothing gold can stay.
77. I hope that my parents’ home becomes that way for their grandchildren ... a really special place where you can always go and be happy.
78. I believe it is really important to listen to children and not try to spank too much of their personalities out of them.
79. Like the boy who made the grappling hook; it made me really happy to see that.
80. I can think of 5 teachers off the top of my head who would have said, “put that stupid toy away.”
81. Of course, I teach science, and can justify “allowing” a homemade grappling hook in my classroom.
82. It scares me how little science some people know.
83. I’m a little bit obsessed with Carl Sagan, and rightly so.
84. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is one of my favorite books of all time.
85. I should read it again soon. I tend to reread books I love several times.
86. I have read Lord of the Rings at least 22 times from start to finish, plus countless times of reading just certain parts.
87. For me, rereading a good book is like visiting a place that I love.
88. When I want to escape for a while, I go to Middle Earth.
89. I’m OK with being a total geek.
90. I have amazing tits, so I can get away with it.
91. Are you imagining my tits right now?
92. Go ahead, then. I am OK with being objectified by you.
93. Shit, I forgot about my parents reading this.
94. Sorry mom and dad, sometimes I say dirty things to be funny.
95. Dirty and funny is one of my favorite combinations.
96. Wow, 100 is a lot.
97. I might have dyslexia because I often reverse “tomorrow” and “yesterday” in my speech, regardless of what language I am speaking. I think those two concepts got stored incorrectly in my Wernicke.
98. I am a huge procrastinator, and I did this instead of grading papers.
99. I always feel better after a good day of procrastinating.
100. I’ll feel even better later when I get that shit done. Thank you for reading!

The Alphabet Meme

This is a repost (originally posted in July 2006). I like it.

I borrowed this idea from my secret lovah, but I also changed it rather drastically because some of the terms restricted me too much. Like my breasts, my ideas need to be free to bounce. Maybe this meme will spread across the internets and I will be famous!!!

I doubt.

But here it is, in all its glory!

A
Always: Trying to live my best life, my most authentic and honest life.
Average: In most ways, except for intelligence and beauty, wittiness, talent, and charm. Otherwise, I'm in the 50th percentile.
Annoyance: People who walk around with their wireless headsets on. Especially if they are talking into them. Today, on my errands, I became one of those people. I hate myself.
Age: Physical -- 37. Mental -- I'll forever be 17.

B
Best Friends: My sisters, San-San, and Elle. Fabulous girls who bring out the best in me.
Beer: Never again.
Birthday: 11.5
Boast: I can play the Bumblebee Tuna Song on the harmonica; I taught myself.

C
Crush: My favorite song by Dave Matthews. Also, Johnny Depp. Also, Jamwall and Jiggs, the bread in my SG-n-cheese sandwich.
Car: Noisy, necessary.
Candy: Not a fan. Cheesecake? Yes.
Cry: When I need to, usually into my pillow.

D
Days: Spent out of doors remind me that I am alive.
Dream: Of swimming underwater, breathing. Of flying, low to the ground, after a running start. Then crashing into a shrub.
Dare: To cross Long Island Sound in a 6' rowboat; to jump from a 40' cliff into the Ligurian Sea. To travel for weeks at a time. To fly in a hot air balloon. To go on safari. To live in Australia. One of those I will never do, and all of them I will tell my mom about long after they happened.
Drug: Of choice --- cheddar. Drugs are bad! Listen to Nancy Reagan! Never was into powders, pills & plants smoked or otherwise imbibed. Alcohol? Ask me later and I'll tell you the story again.

E
Easy: To see the positive in almost any situation.
Eggs: every day, almost. Hard boiled, on toast. No, scrambled. Oooh, with cheese & tomato.
Email: constant.
Envy: A sprite with short blond hair and a boyish body. Why is that?

F
Flavors: fresh herbs, good balsamic vinegar, sea salt.
Favorites: at the moment ... toast with jam and James Blunt. My kayak. My black sandals. Spray tan.
Flaws: Temper, venom, pride.
Finicky: about seeds. No caraway, please. Flax? Too slippery. Poppy? Maybe. Sesame!

G
Grateful: To be fully & wholly alive.
Gifts: Music, humor, the written word.
Gum: Orbit. Trident. Altoid peppermint.
Gross: The squished mouse on the road, the drowned earthworm on the asphalt. Bear smell. Dog shit.

H
Hair: I should shave it off to curb my own vanity. As if I could. It is a glorious mane.
Height: I see all your house-dust, above the places where you could reach. Also your dandruff and down your neckline to your nipples, even meaning not to.
Happiest: Near water.
Hate: Do I hate anything? Caraway seeds, but we covered that. I hate being lied to and being ignored.

I
Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Mint Oreo, or whatever you are serving at the moment. Except bubblegum. Ew.
Instrument: Piano. Guitar. Voice. Mind.
Idols: Barbara Kingsolver. Carl Sagan. Stephen King.
Independence: Does not come easily. Value the work that went into it.

J
Jewelry: Silver mostly. Almost never a watch. Dragonfly necklace.
Jail: A great place to meet guys. A fun place to learn how to take what you're dealt. In my opinion, you've made some really big mistakes if you end up incarcerated. Easy for me to judge, living on this side of the law & my good luck.
Jenga: I really hate this game.
Jammies: 24-7. Unless I need to go out.

K
Kids: Are really cute until they are about 9.
Karaoke: Is for drunk people & people who can actually sing.
Kicks: Soccer, rugby, climbing, swimming
Kiss: Would be nice.

L
Longest ...: Night of my life --- lost in the woods in Ontario, sleeping on a granite rock, in the pouring rain.
Love: What else is there?
Life: Just this one time around. Don't f*** it up.
Lost: Something important that I thought was dispensable, at the time.

M
Milk: Icy cold, with hot fresh brownies. 2%.
Miss: Noun: My title at work ("Miss G"); verb: a daily emotion. Miss my cat, my childhood, my old house, my grandfather, my old boyfriend, my old room, a certain tree, the way the sky looked that one day.
Movies: Not as fun as they used to be because most people are assholes.
Memory: The fox that ran across the road and pounced high into the air then straight down, both paws on a mouse.

N
Nails: Short as I can stand them
No: To skydiving. I don't care if I should do it once. I will never do it. What? I'm a wuss? Fine. A wuss who loves & respects the inevitability of gravity. See how I lie on my belly and kiss the ground. Ooooh, sweet gravity. Come here & lay a big dirt smooch on me.
Name: Muthana
Never: To hang-gliding either. See above.

O
Ordinary: My expectations regarding most things.
One: The number of times I will let you hurt my feelings.
Office: The best show on TV.
Only: A word that helps me to expect less and to be patient.

P
Pet Peeves: Huge gums. Snapping gum. Cracking knuckles. Tailgaters.
Primal urge: to break something so utterly that it can never be repaired.
Personality: so much more important than anything else.
Pain: An everyday reality.

Q
Quick: to laugh, to judge, to respond, to change my mind, to smile, to think of an alternative
Quirk: I suck rocks for the salty taste.
Qualms: About staying put. About changing.
Quest: To leave a thumbprint on your life.

R
Reason to ...: forgive. That we're all just doing the best we can.
Reality TV: The bane of intelligence, and my secret pleasure. Yes, I watched every single episode of Temptation Island.
Rage: A blinding red streak that I have not seen in a very long time.
Regret: Why does this one always come up? Just one, I said.

S
Song: My body sings my soul.
Season: Autumn's first crisp chill.
Shoes: Bare toes, painted watermelon.
Silly: The child in us.

T
Time: Don't bring work home so that your time at home is your own.
Ticklish: Trained myself not to be ticklish on the bottoms of my feet because I used to lie on my stomach and read with my feet in the air; my dad would tickle them when he went by, and I liked that he did that. I didn't want to flinch.
Taste: Very Pottery Barn, very Pier 1. Also, I love toile, but don't have much in my house.
Torment: Sleeplessness. Looking at the clock, knowing I have to work in 4 .. 3 ... 2 hours.

U
Undress: The minute I get home from work, and put on my PJ pants and tank top.
Unpredictable: Most things strike me as funny, and I laugh at the wrong time.
Unfortunate: I got the job and you didn't. Doesn't mean you have to be mad at me.
Unforgettable: It started to drizzle as we walked through the rhododendrons, and you reached back through the leaves for my hand.

V
Vegetables: Anything but okra.
Virgin: Olive Oil
Vacation: Tuscany
Voice: Alto

W
Worst Habit: Sleeping too long; soaking dishes instead of just washing them already
Wish: World peace, of course. Are we almost there?
Waste: I don't like to throw things out, so I give them away.
Wander: Paralyzing fear of getting lost as I drive in the car. To desensitize myself I drive and get lost on purpose, then find my way out. I don't think it has helped much.

X
X-Rated: Porn is gross.
X-Rays: It freaks me out that you can see people's bones, and a nail in their head.
X-Men: Still waiting for the first one to get here from Blockbuster.com so that I can watch 2 and 3 and see what all the hype is about.
X-marks the spot: I hide dollars from myself in the pockets of my winter clothes, to find later.

Y
Year born: 1968
Yes: to cheese.
Yellow: and orange, two colors I don't wear.
Yearn: secret words whispered into my hair at sunset

Z
Zoo Animal: Tiger
Zodiac: Scorpio. Ain't it obvious?!?
Zealous: about Mozart. If you love him too, then you understand.
Zzzz: My bed is the best place in the world.

1460 Days

Oh yeah, I just remembered it's my 4th sobriety anniversary. Yay me! Here's a little more about all the "fun" I used to have.

Ready for Auction

At choir camp, we have a silent auction. Last year, I just contributed a Black & Decker coffee grinder. This year, I decided to make a wine-cork corkboard. I also attached some pewter wine-themed pushpins. I'm quite happy with the results, and it only took one hour!

The frame for this corkboard, as well as other wine gifts, can be purchased at Wine Enthusiast. A few years ago I fancied myself a wine enthusiast; really it turned out I was just really enthusiastic about drinking it. I still enjoy making the corkboards, and I always ask for corks when I go out to dinner. I also have a few suppliers in my family, who store them up for me and then mail them to me.

As hobbies go, this one is quite fun, and in a very short time you can have a beautiful object!

In the pink

So what happened was I suddenly got really busy, and it's like this crazy manic energy that keeps me just running running running like a hamster in the wheel I can't really spend a lot of time on creativity because all my energy is going into the projects, these amazing projects the kids are turning out which are due in two days and after that I will just crash, maybe. One day last week we had a really fun day that included a 12-on-12 tug of war and food, there was cake, lots of it. And of course it is so lovely outside the trees are blooming and dropping all their petals it's like a giant pink snowstorm so every day I go out and sweep my driveway of the petals. I wish I could box them up and send them to you but they wither so very quickly. I had a giant party for Cinco de Mayo lots of people came and I bought booze, actual booze, from the alcohol store for others to drink for the margarita punch, the booze store where I felt like a fish out of water funny when I used to make that stop every week, twice three times sometimes and they knew me by name how sad is that? Now if I could just find my Zen place I will turn to my former state of bliss and maybe some ideas will come, I'm a bit blocked in my writing. I think if I did this sort of thing more often then ideas would come. Oh and I still love you, I didn't forget you know.

Y'all pull up a stool and set a spell.

'Cause I got stuff to say. And when I say it, I want you here listenin'.

I actually have a cowgirl outfit quite similar to this.

The Blogging thing is hard for me sometimes; in the beginning it was easier to be honest on my blog and to say how I really felt about things, but as more and more people have started reading it (including family and close friends), it gets harder to do that. It’s like when you go to a new city and in the beginning you can act like a big asshole because nobody knows you; but as you become a member of the community, you reel it in a bit. At least I do. Either that or move to a new town so I can keep being an asshole.

Mostly, my creativity gets in a rut sometimes; I just don’t have enough feelings about things to be able to write well. I find I need to be angry or humorously annoyed to be able to write really well. When I’m just plodding through my relaxing summer, there isn’t much to say. Then one day I wake up & realize that my blog feels like a chore, and that is when I take a break. Or post really simple stuff, or dwell in my childhood by revisiting Sesame Street episodes that make me happy.

While on my short break, I discovered that I am seething with feelings! Yes, it is true! At the moment, I find myself mostly pissed off. Here are some of the things I am pissed off about:

 The stupid 20 year old girls in choir who won’t shut up and even have the nerve to talk on the cell phone. DURING REHEARSAL!

 The teacher on my team (who brought the dog to work) who won’t shut up when I am trying to run a meeting, and the other teacher who sits across from her and shouts back at her. It’s like Cage Match, and I’m the referee.

 The way Shepherd Boy appears in my dreams unexpectedly, and then acts like we’ve been talking for the past 13 years instead of this void of silence that I hate so much.

 I’m mad at alcohol, because why does it have to be something that is so nice and so fun and oh, this red goes so nicely with the veal, and then suddenly one day you wake up more hung-over than you have ever been in your life and realize it’s a problem for you? Why couldn’t it just stay fun and easy? And I can’t ever go back to fun and easy, because I am past that. Fuck you, ETOH!

 When I wrote you the long email about my MS diagnosis, this comment, which I guess was the best you could do: “Wow, that is a lot to digest.” Yeah, sorry my multiple scle-fuckin-RO-sis is so hard for you. Guess I overestimated you. Don’t talk to me; if you do, I’ll just pretend I was talking about someone else.

 Although I feel like I have a right to make jokes like this, and that makes me happy.

Now if I can get a few scary dolls, teddy bears, or thumb-sucking teenage girls (my best rant ever, and worth the click) back into my life, I’ll really have some fodder for the mill.

Until then, please just lie on top of me and wiggle so I can feel better and release some of this anger.

The Alphabet Meme

I borrowed this idea from my secret lovah, but I also changed it rather drastically because some of the terms restricted me too much. Like my breasts, my ideas need to be free to bounce. Maybe this meme will spread across the internets and I will be famous!!!

I doubt.

But here it is, in all its glory!

A
Always: Trying to live my best life, my most authentic and honest life.
Average: In most ways, except for intelligence and beauty, wittiness, talent, and charm. Otherwise, I'm in the 50th percentile.
Annoyance: People who walk around with their wireless headsets on. Especially if they are talking into them. Today, on my errands, I became one of those people. I hate myself.
Age: Physical -- 37. Mental -- I'll forever be 17.

B
Best Friends: My sisters, San-San, and Elle. Fabulous girls who bring out the best in me.
Beer: Never again.
Birthday: 11.5
Boast: I can play the Bumblebee Tuna Song on the harmonica; I taught myself.

C
Crush: My favorite song by Dave Matthews. Also, Johnny Depp. Also, Jamwall and Jiggs, the bread in my SG-n-cheese sandwich.
Car: Noisy, necessary.
Candy: Not a fan. Cheesecake? Yes.
Cry: When I need to, usually into my pillow.

D
Days: Spent out of doors remind me that I am alive.
Dream: Of swimming underwater, breathing. Of flying, low to the ground, after a running start. Then crashing into a shrub.
Dare: To cross Long Island Sound in a 6' rowboat; to jump from a 40' cliff into the Ligurian Sea. To travel for weeks at a time. To fly in a hot air balloon. To go on safari. To live in Australia. One of those I will never do, and all of them I will tell my mom about long after they happened.
Drug: Of choice --- cheddar. Drugs are bad! Listen to Nancy Reagan! Never was into powders, pills & plants smoked or otherwise imbibed. Alcohol? Ask me later and I'll tell you the story again.

E
Easy: To see the positive in almost any situation.
Eggs: every day, almost. Hard boiled, on toast. No, scrambled. Oooh, with cheese & tomato.
Email: constant.
Envy: A sprite with short blond hair and a boyish body. Why is that?

F
Flavors: fresh herbs, good balsamic vinegar, sea salt.
Favorites: at the moment ... toast with jam and James Blunt. My kayak. My black sandals. Spray tan.
Flaws: Temper, venom, pride.
Finicky: about seeds. No caraway, please. Flax? Too slippery. Poppy? Maybe. Sesame!

G
Grateful: To be fully & wholly alive.
Gifts: Music, humor, the written word.
Gum: Orbit. Trident. Altoid peppermint.
Gross: The squished mouse on the road, the drowned earthworm on the asphalt. Bear smell. Dog shit.

H
Hair: I should shave it off to curb my own vanity. As if I could. It is a glorious mane.
Height: I see all your house-dust, above the places where you could reach. Also your dandruff and down your neckline to your nipples, even meaning not to.
Happiest: Near water.
Hate: Do I hate anything? Caraway seeds, but we covered that. I hate being lied to and being ignored.

I
Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Mint Oreo, or whatever you are serving at the moment. Except bubblegum. Ew.
Instrument: Piano. Guitar. Voice. Mind.
Idols: Barbara Kingsolver. Carl Sagan. Stephen King.
Independence: Does not come easily. Value the work that went into it.

J
Jewelry: Silver mostly. Almost never a watch. Dragonfly necklace.
Jail: A great place to meet guys. A fun place to learn how to take what you're dealt. In my opinion, you've made some really big mistakes if you end up incarcerated. Easy for me to judge, living on this side of the law & my good luck.
Jenga: I really hate this game.
Jammies: 24-7. Unless I need to go out.

K
Kids: Are really cute until they are about 9.
Karaoke: Is for drunk people & people who can actually sing.
Kicks: Soccer, rugby, climbing, swimming
Kiss: Would be nice.

L
Longest ...: Night of my life --- lost in the woods in Ontario, sleeping on a granite rock, in the pouring rain.
Love: What else is there?
Life: Just this one time around. Don't f*** it up.
Lost: Something important that I thought was dispensable, at the time.

M
Milk: Icy cold, with hot fresh brownies. 2%.
Miss: Noun: My title at work ("Miss G"); verb: a daily emotion. Miss my cat, my childhood, my old house, my grandfather, my old boyfriend, my old room, a certain tree, the way the sky looked that one day.
Movies: Not as fun as they used to be because most people are assholes.
Memory: The fox that ran across the road and pounced high into the air then straight down, both paws on a mouse.

N
Nails: Short as I can stand them
No: To skydiving. I don't care if I should do it once. I will never do it. What? I'm a wuss? Fine. A wuss who loves & respects the inevitability of gravity. See how I lie on my belly and kiss the ground. Ooooh, sweet gravity. Come here & lay a big dirt smooch on me.
Name: Muthana
Never: To hang-gliding either. See above.

O
Ordinary: My expectations regarding most things.
One: The number of times I will let you hurt my feelings.
Office: The best show on TV.
Only: A word that helps me to expect less and to be patient.

P
Pet Peeves: Huge gums. Snapping gum. Cracking knuckles. Tailgaters.
Primal urge: to break something so utterly that it can never be repaired.
Personality: so much more important than anything else.
Pain: An everyday reality.

Q
Quick: to laugh, to judge, to respond, to change my mind, to smile, to think of an alternative
Quirk: I suck rocks for the salty taste.
Qualms: About staying put. About changing.
Quest: To leave a thumbprint on your life.

R
Reason to ...: forgive. That we're all just doing the best we can.
Reality TV: The bane of intelligence, and my secret pleasure. Yes, I watched every single episode of Temptation Island.
Rage: A blinding red streak that I have not seen in a very long time.
Regret: Why does this one always come up? Just one, I said.

S
Song: My body sings my soul.
Season: Autumn's first crisp chill.
Shoes: Bare toes, painted watermelon.
Silly: The child in us.

T
Time: Don't bring work home so that your time at home is your own.
Ticklish: Trained myself not to be ticklish on the bottoms of my feet because I used to lie on my stomach and read with my feet in the air; my dad would tickle them when he went by, and I liked that he did that. I didn't want to flinch.
Taste: Very Pottery Barn, very Pier 1. Also, I love toile, but don't have any in my house.
Torment: Sleeplessness. Looking at the clock, knowing I have to work in 4 .. 3 ... 2 hours.

U
Undress: The minute I get home from work, and put on my PJ pants and tank top.
Unpredictable: Most things strike me as funny, and I laugh at the wrong time.
Unfortunate: I got the job and you didn't. Doesn't mean you have to be mad at me.
Unforgettable: It started to drizzle as we walked through the rhododendrons, and you reached back through the leaves for my hand.

V
Vegetables: Anything but okra.
Virgin: Olive Oil
Vacation: Tuscany
Voice: Alto

W
Worst Habit: Sleeping too long; soaking dishes instead of just washing them already
Wish: World peace, of course. Are we almost there?
Waste: I don't like to throw things out, so I give them away.
Wander: Paralyzing fear of getting lost as I drive in the car. To desensitize myself I drive and get lost on purpose, then find my way out. I don't think it has helped much.

X
X-Rated: Porn is gross.
X-Rays: It freaks me out that you can see people's bones, and a nail in their head.
X-Men: Still waiting for the first one to get here from Blockbuster.com so that I can watch 2 and 3 and see what all the hype is about.
X-marks the spot: I hide dollars from myself in the pockets of my winter clothes, to find later.

Y
Year born: 1968
Yes: to cheese.
Yellow: and orange, two colors I don't wear.
Yearn: secret words whispered into my hair at sunset

Z
Zoo Animal: Tiger
Zodiac: Scorpio. Ain't it obvious?!?
Zealous: about Mozart. If you love him too, then you understand.
Zzzz: My bed is the best place in the world.

Check Out This Asshat.

... or, "why I hate turning off word verification."

I would never find this stuff if my comments didn't come into my email inbox. Yesterday, when I had word-ver turned off for HNT, some assclown leaves some spam waaaaayyyyy back in this post. Here is the text of the spam:

At March 23, 2006 7:23 AM, mike said...
Hey!! Very nice blog :0) I just got inside from washing and waxing my truck. It is my baby. Took me 2 hours though. So I settled down into my basement and started doing some web surfing. Anyways I am in the process of grabbing my masters degree and have spent the last 6 months researching suited poker chips. In the midst of my surfing I landed smack dab in the middle of your blog. I hope you do not think I am intruding but I must say it is great blog. Even though your blog is way off base from suited poker chips I found myself cruising through your blog archives for the last half hour :0) You have some nice blogging friends. Anyways, I need to get back to my mission. I wrote down your url and feel free to visit me here at http://www.the-poker-outlet-sucks-sow-teats.com/. I am so busy so I can only update my site monthly. Keep up the great work.

I have several issues with (& comments about) this spam. Besides the obvious, that it is littering MY blog with his stupid poker crap.

1. Your truck is your baby? Washing & waxing it is your major activity in life? You obviously have PDS (penis of diminutive size), or you would get a real hobby, like physics or rugby.
2. You web-surf in your basement?!? How much kiddie porn do you actually have on your hard drive? Is it because your mom is upstairs watching Ellen reruns and you don't want to disturb her? Is it because you want to keep an eye on your death's-head moths to make sure they don't escape to the outside world?
3. Anyways? Anyways?!?!? What are you, 6 and three-quarters?!? Next you'll tell me that I'm not the boss of you.
4. Grabbing your master's degree? Yeah, that's the terminology we use in post-graduate studies. Did I mention I yanked a second master's a few years ago, and will one day pluck a PhD? Fuckin' retard.
5. 6 months researching suited poker chips? Ummm, yeah.
6. You landed smack dab in the middle of MY blog researching suited poker chips? Glad it led you to my heartfelt post about combating my little fascination with alcohol. Since I have never mentioned poker on my blog, maybe it was me saying I "FLUSHed" all my old booze down the toilet that led you here. Welcome, scumbag!
7. Emoticons do not have noses. Please use :) , not :0) in any future correspondence with me.
8. Yes, I do have nice blogging friends!

BabyJewels once had a great post in which people wrote fake spam in her comment thread. If you feel inspired, I'd love to see what you come up with! Otherwise, just tell me what you think of the asshat. But please remember: he is a human being. With feelings. Which means he can be slowly tortured and feel each & every sensation on his screaming flesh.

913 Days, But Who's Counting?

This is a repost, marking two and a half years since I decided to give up alcohol.

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to be funny. These things are only funny to me because they are all true, because I did them, and because I salvaged my poor gin-soaked soul on August 6, 2003. If you think you might have a problem, consider these points or take this quiz. I took it 14 times before I realized that cheating on the answers didn’t make them any less true.

Image respectfully borrowed from BeerStuff

You Might Have a Little Bitty Problem With Alcohol If…

• You make three separate trips to the recycling center because you don’t want anyone to see how many bottles you have, but you still care about the earth.
• You carry your trash really carefully when your landlord is around, so he doesn't hear the clinking.
• You remember 1 bottle of chardonnay, but in the morning you see 3.
• You go to at least 3 different liquor stores because you don't want to be seen going so often; nevertheless, all the owners greet you by name.
• You drunk-dial your friends and then tell them the same story several times, in almost the exact same words. When they call you on it, you say, "oh, I've told this story so many times I don't remember who I told it to." (this doesn't work very well when it's the same person, in the same phone call)
• You make elaborate plans with friends and family, and then don’t remember a word. The next day, when your friend says, “so what time should come over?” you pretend you know all about it to cover your ass. Later, when your other friend calls (with whom you also made plans), you cancel because of an “appointment you forgot you had”.
• Your first words in the morning, every morning for 2+ years, are “Oh, shit—not again.”
• Your coworkers ask you why you look so tired, or if you are sick (answer: both). Your answer: trouble sleeping (also true).
• You wake up at 3 AM every night in a shame spiral, and wonder how & when you got to this point. You’re an intelligent, beautiful, self-aware woman, dammit—you can’t be a drunk! (you can be both; nobody sets out to have this affliction on purpose, ya know. Duh.) (By the way I sometimes dream that I went on a drinking binge & wake up feeling utter despair at having failed, then relief that I’m still OK. And if I did fail, I hope I’d have the strength to pick up where I left off).
• You bring your own magnum of chardonnay to the party because they probably don’t have what you want (or enough of it); you offer to open it for the hostess. You drink most of it.
• You order a whole bottle of wine at a bar and the bartendress keeps it on ice for you and all the friends you intend to share it with. Most of them don’t have any.
• You decide that a mandarin Absolut & tonic (m.a.t.) is OK at 10 AM; it’s citrusy, like orange juice. That's breakfast, right?
• You decide that grocery shopping is so much more fun with a buzz on, so you have one m.a.t. for breakfast & then put one in a sippy cup for the road.
• The following activities are drinking triggers: talking on the phone, sitting at the computer, watching TV, driving home from work. Also breathing, eating, sleeping.
• You’ve rationalized that you’d better switch to vodka since it doesn’t smell (as much—enough of anything and your sweat still smells like skid row).
• You lie to your best friend on the phone that the reason your speech is slurred is because you are wearing a Crest White Strips on your teeth.
• You decide to drink only on weekends, then drink on a Thursday because that’s close.
• You decide to drink every other day, and then fail after 2 days.
• You decide not to drink one morning, and then change your mind on the drive home. You haven’t done it yet, you could still stop it, but having made the decision in your mind it is already too late.
• You decide to drink just 2 glasses of wine, but glass 3.5 kills the bottle (you have biiiig glasses), so why stop? Wine goes bad if it sits.
• Wine never goes bad in your house.
• You wonder aloud about your drinking habits with all of your drinking friends, and say things like, “it’s not as if I’d drink something else if there were no wine in the house” (this was before I discovered the m.a.t. and the no-smell-vodka secret)
• There is always wine in the house.
• You actually think to yourself, who needs friends when I have this?
• You choose a night home with a DVD and 2 bottles of wine over a night out with friends (rationalization: cheaper, and then I don't have to drive drunk).
• You wonder aloud whether a life without wine in it is even possible. All those dinners out, and no wine? (it is possible, and the peace of mind that comes from a sober life far exceeds the enjoyment of a fine chardonnay. Although sometimes I still imagine the molten-gold flavor of it going down my throat, and I feel a lust unlike anything I’ve ever felt).
• You finally resolve to quit drinking, but you can’t “officially” quit until all the booze in the house is gone, so you make a list of everything you need to consume, including that nasty bottle of Pimm's and the Smuggler whiskey your dad brought over for a party once (happy ending: upon realizing the huge volumes I’d have to consume, I gave all my top-shelf vodkas, gins, scotches & rums to a friend for her huge summer bash, and poured the rest of it down the toilet on August 7, 2003. Funny, I didn’t feel bad about wasting it, even though I was raised not to waste nutrients. I figured those kids in Africa didn’t need to become boozehounds).
• You check out the AA website, just to see what it’s all about.
  

• [note: I am not made uncomfortable in any way by the mention of alcohol, the presence of it, or when my friends around me order it at the dinner table. I am happy to discuss it and proud of my sobriety. It’s not a word that needs to be whispered, like cancer or prison. I am not offended by anyone’s drunken audio post, or mention of drunkenness in this virtual (or any other) world. The only thing that upsets me is when I meet/see people who are obvious alcoholics; not because I judge them but because I know the place they are in, and it is not a good place. I questioned my drinking for 8 years, and experienced out-of-control drinking for about a year and a half before I stopped. I still question exactly how I got to that point. I can only hope that suffering alcoholics find solid ground, as I did. Thank you for reading.]

Layers of a Funyun

It's fun peeling away the layers to get to know someone. Don't you think? It's also fun to do when you are feeling creatively dry on a Wednesday. Try it!


Layer One
Name: Spinning Girl
Birthdate: November 5, 1968
Birthplace: New Jersey
Current Location: Connecticut
Eye Color: Blue-Gray
Hair Color: Blondina
Righty or Lefty: Righty
Sun Sign: Scorpiette
Innie or Outtie: Innie. But I was an outie 'til I was 10, then suddenly it popped in one day.

Layer Two
Your heritage: 100% Estonian, and damn proud of it (we are a small, but proud nation)
The shoes you wore today: Dansko clogs, in black
Your hair: Medium long
Your eyes: umm, hello, still blue-gray. What more do you want? OK, there is a brown speck in the right one.
Your weakness: Any man who gives me a dazzling smile / wasabi peas (tie)
Your fears: Drowning, Dying a childless old maid, having my face eaten by a mountain lion like that lady in the Reader’s Digest Drama in Real Life, going blind, having my legs amputated, and finding a spider at the bottom of my tropical drink.
Your perfect pizza: Mushroom, fresh tomato, and meatball
One thing you'd like to achieve: A published book / burp the alphabet (tie)

Layer Three
Your most overused phrase: What the hell?!? / Throw down your digits & we’ll parlay (tie)
Your first waking thoughts: What the hell?!? / mmmm, coffeeeee (tie)
The first features you notice in the opposite sex: Smile, eyes, butt
Your best physical feature: Hair
Your bedtime: 10:30 – 2:00 (sliding scale)
Your greatest fear: Being left in the world completely alone
Your greatest accomplishment: Getting the best job ever / Ditching my alcohol habit / Switching from Velcro to laced shoes (3-way tie)
Your most missed memory: Childhood at my grandparents’ farm

Layer Four
Pepsi or Coke: Dr. Pepper
Single or group dates: huh?
Adidas or Nike: New Balance
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Harney & Sons loose Black Tea with Apricot, brewed in a press
Chocolate or vanilla: Twist. Must I choose?
Cappuccino or coffee: Coffee.

Layer Five
Smoke: Only woodstoves
Cuss: Yes. Mostly while driving. Excerpt: You stupid f****** numb c***, don't you know what a g**d*** turn signal is?!?!?
Sing: Lots
Take a shower everyday: Nope. Alternate shower, bath, basin splashing, dust bath
Have a crush: No
Been in love: Of course
Went to college: 3 times. And finished each time, too! Yay me! Where do I hang all these things?!?
Liked high school: I think I did. Not that much, though, come to think of it.
Want to get married: Someday
Believe in yourself: Yes. or no. Do I?
Type with your fingers on the right keys: Well, My thumbs and index fingers hit all these answers correctly, right? Watching me type is like watching a piano player play Flight of the Bumblebee.
Think you're attractive: I am f***ing fabu. Also humble. I don't know; all joking aside: I am enough.
Think you're a health freak: Yeah, healthy stuff freaks me out. Seriously? OK, I will try. I eat mostly healthy things, with some splurges. I eat too much.
Get along with your parents: yes.
Play an instrument: Piano, guitar, vocal cords

Layer Six
In the past month, did you...
Drink alcohol: No
Smoke: No
Do a drug: No
Make Out: No
Go on a date: Was that a date? Oh. Then no.
Eat an entire box of Oreos: No. p.s. have you ever read those ingredients? bleah.
Eat sushi: Yes
Been on stage: No
Been dumped: No
Gone skating: No. Not on purpose, anyhow.
Made homemade cookies: No
Fall in love: No. Well ... no.
Go skinny dipping: No
Dyed your hair: No
Stolen anything: No

Layer Seven
Have you ever...
Played a game that required removal of clothing: No. A game? Not exactly, no.
If so, was it mixed company: n/a
Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: yes
Been caught doing something: no
Been called a tease: Hellz no. I deliver. Ha ha! Just kidding, Mom!*
Gotten beaten up: no
Shoplifted: no
If so, did you get caught: n/a
Changed who you were to fit in: Mmmm, changed who I seemed to be, maybe.

Layer Eight
Age you hope to be married: Alive
Numbers and Names of Children: What? Children I know? I have known thousands, and I can name them all.
Describe your Dream Wedding: Barefoot on a beach, pig roast, raw bar, lobster bake, volleyball, Levi’s and white t shirts for everyone, sunset, swimming, tents.
How do you want to die: Quietly. Hopefully with no toothed predators nearby.
What do you want to be when you grow up: a teacher
What countr(ies) would you most like to visit: Italy, Estonia (again); Spain, Scotland, Ireland, Africa

Layer Nine
Number of men I have kissed: None; they were boys at the time.
Number of boyfriends you've had: one at a time.
Number of drugs taken illegally: all my drugs were prescribed by a licensed physician (in Mexico).
Number of people I could trust with my life: 4
Number of CDs that I own: 300
Number of piercings: one in each ear
Number of tattoos: none, unless you count lick-on, stick-ons, then twelve.
Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: numerous
Number of scars on my body: Two
Number of things in my past that I regret: Just the one.

*psst, see me after.

Pet Sitting: The Tale of Miss Shelly

I used to babysit for a dog named Shelly. Shelly was half Border Collie and half tumor, and she was terribly old. Her owners would go off on one-month excursions in the summers, leaving me to take care of Shelly and their plants. Many plants died under my watchful care, but luckily, Shelly never died … until once. But that comes later in the tale.

The first time I babysat Shelly, her owners went to Australia. Within three days of my arrival, she developed a hot spot on her cheek that she kept scratching and scratching. She would scratch for hours. I finally took her to the vet, and he gave her some ointments for her cheek, and fitted her with the dreaded Cone.

Shelly was very ashamed of her new bonnet, and walked around with her head hung low for two days. When she discovered that the cone doubled as a megaphone, however, she held her head high, munching her kibble for all in the world to hear.

In addition to her cheek ointments, Shelly had lots of medical needs. She had some sort of growth on her eye, which looked like the pink end of a pencil eraser. I would have to put ointment on this growth twice a day, and also swab her eyes in between, because her tear ducts weren’t working properly. I think it might have been because they were clogged by 2.5 pounds of extra eyelid flesh? Just guessing.

All of these are things I would willingly do for someone I loved; I did not love Shelly, so I was loath to do them, but I am a compassionate person.

Also, I got a cold grand every time I babysat this dog.

Shelly also had a very demanding vitamin routine. With her morning and evening meals (canned duck), I would have to give her no less than 9 different capsules, including fish oils, thistle seed, and flax seed oil. I don’t know why.

Shelly never did learn where the edges of her cone were. She would walk around the house, crashing into walls and lamps with the edges of her new hat. I would wake up in the night to the relentless scraaape, scraaaape, scraaaaaaaaaaaaaape of her insomnia.

When she got older, she didn’t have the cone anymore, but she did fall down the stairs once and scared the crap out of me. Luckily, what it scared out of her was just a little urine, easily picked up with 16-17 sheets of paper towel at 2 AM.

As Shelly got older and deafer, shaking the can of pennies wouldn’t still her incessant barking.

One day, the growth on her eyelid was gone. What a relief! Later, I found it on the kitchen floor.

Another time, I found what I thought was a large, juicy grape on the floor. As I bent to pick it up, I saw its little legs waving and realized it was a tick.

After I cleaned up my vomit, I went out and got a tick collar for Shelly.

Each summer my friends would ask me to dog-sit again, and I would grudgingly agree, because they were my friends, and they were desperate, and poor little Shel knew me already.

Oh! There were also two finches in a cage, one of which was blind. But I’ll leave those out of the story.

And I didn’t kill the orchid, I swear. I didn’t even touch it. It just dropped all its blossoms because it missed you guys. I missed you too, and that’s why the orchid and I shared a bottle of Southern Comfort in your honor.

The last time I babysat Shelly, she had had a few strokes and couldn’t hear, and was fairly blind in one eye. Since she couldn’t manage stairs anymore, we let her crap all over the deck. Luckily, it was winter. On that last stay I swore it would be the last time. Money or no, I couldn’t handle it.

But they asked me again, and I said yes. When I got to the house, I couldn’t find Shelly anywhere. I searched all her favorite hiding spots … the crawl space behind the dryer, under the deck, in the garage … nowhere. After half an hour, I found a note from her owners: Dear Spinning Girl, Shelly is not at home. Please call for details …

I called my friends in Martha’s Vineyard, and they told me Shelly was buried under the hemlock tree in the back yard. She had died that very day. I could stay the weekend anyhow, since we had agreed on it and they’d still like the house watched. I spent the next day planting flowers and mourning my little old friend, shaking the can of pennies and wearing her old cone. I still wear it, when I have an unbearable itch somewhere and I don't want to bite it.

How I miss that old girl.

Some of the Morals of the story:

• I will care for you tenderly, tumors and all.
• Ticks make me vomit.
• Plants do not like alcohol.
• The cone shape is a deterrent to tearing up one's own flesh.
• I will do just about anything for a cold grand in cash.